It was a good sign, but for some reason it only added to his nervousness. Surely the Organics had detected them by now, so what was stopping them from attacking? He had left Luke’s bunker prepared for a fight, and now he was getting anxious. Where were they?

He gripped the pulse rifle tighter, ignoring the pain shooting down his injured arm. Gritting his teeth, he pushed on, making his way to the edge of the road where it began its winding journey up the mountain. It was there he finally halted, struggling for air and watching Sophie and Bouma make their way up the incline with their precious cargo.

Overton looked up at the trail. “Almost there,” he said, smiling behind his visor. Sophie didn’t pause when she caught up with him. She continued up the hill at a pace that impressed even the Marine. He had always been a firm believer that people picked up speed in the last stretch of a race, especially when they could see a finish line. She was proving his theory to be true.

He leveled his rifle toward the ground and continued on, swearing that he would finally quit smoking. But as the blast doors came into focus, he was already imagining how sweet his next cigarette would taste. Then he noticed that something was wrong with the doors.

They were already open.

Chapter 21

CHAPTER 21

OVERTON slipped through the crack in the monstrous blast doors. Finley watched with his back to the rock, his foot tapping anxiously.

Several seconds bled by, and Sophie began to get nervous. All she could think about was Emanuel. The open doors meant one of two things: either the Organics had gotten in, or Emanuel and the rest of her team had left.

As she studied the blast doors from a distance, she realized the latter of the two possibilities was remote at best. At the base of the metal doors were claw marks, much larger than any of the spiders were capable of making.

Those are the small monsters. Jamie’s words echoed in Sophie’s mind. Reality set in; her stomach lurched, and the adrenaline mixing with her bloodstream clouded her vision.

“We have to get in there,” she whispered into her mic, setting Jamie softly on the ground. She jabbed her finger at the claw marks. “Check those out.”

“What the fuck are those?” Finley exclaimed, taking one knee to study the doors.

“We have to warn Sergeant Overton,” Bouma replied. He unstrapped the metal device from his back and carefully rested it against the wall of the door. “I’m going in,” he said, his weapon leveled at the darkness.

“Roger. I’m right behind you. Dr. Winston, stay here! That’s an order,” Finley said.

She nodded and crouched down next to Jamie. The child sat on the rocky ground, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “Are we safe yet?” she asked in a soft, innocent voice.