“Not one for more than a kilometre. Is there a problem?”

“Let’s find out.” Mitzi beckoned for her team to follow her.

They inched their way down, taking much more care than before, breathing shallowly so they wouldn’t obscure any sounds. After ten steps, Mitzi held out her arm, drawing her small team to a halt. “Silence,” she hissed.

A new sound, quiet and indistinct, was mixing with the dripping. It reminded Mitzi of fingers rubbing over stone.

“What’s that?” Mir hissed, grabbing Mitzi’s arm and pointing. Mitzi followed the finger and saw a large shadowy spot in the corner of the landing. She squinted at it, trying to make out what it was, but the glowing-green night vision obscured any identifying features.

Mitzi signalled for her team to retreat, then she remembered they wouldn’t understand her hand motions. “Move back, all of you.”

The shape shifted, seeming to turn towards her, rising to shoulder height. It was large, black, and sluggish after days of hibernation, but it seemed to shiver when Mitzi stepped closer.

So this is what a Cymic looks like, huh?

Mitzi unhooked her flamethrower’s gun, and the monster twitched in response to the noise. She’d heard they could respond to vibrations in the air, but she hadn’t expected them to be quite so attuned. She raised the nozzle at the Cymic, aiming carefully. Don’t want to stuff up the first shot.

Then she abruptly found herself on her back, gasping from surprise, her companions’ shocked cries filling her helmet. The alien had moved with lightning speed, shooting out thick tendrils to smack her off her feet. Only the suit had saved her from broken ribs and ruptured organs, but she was still winded.

The Cymic was on top of her, and her vision was filled with its multitude of flailing limbs, which poked at her suit, tugged at her, and tried to worm their way between the plates. Mitzi struggled against it, trying to wriggle away, but the monster was at least three times as large as she was, and it had her pinned.

A roar came through her helmet’s speakers, making her wince. She tilted her head back and saw Adam was charging towards the monster, head down and flamethrower nozzle held ahead of him like a lance. He hadn’t pulled the trigger, though, and the black metal nozzle remained cold. Mitzi grimaced. What the hell does he think he’s doing? He’s not… oh, jeeze, he is. He’s going to try to use his flamethrower like a sword, isn’t he?

Motion to her right caught her attention. “Watch out!” she yelled, a second too late as a thick tendril smashed into Adam. It threw him off his feet and slammed him into the wall, and he tumbled to the ground, chips of broken stone raining down on him. Mitzi felt her blood run cold at the sound, and she could only pray his suit had protected him from the worst of the damage.

The monster was tugging at her, trying to peel her suit away, and to Mitzi’s horror, she heard the squeal of bending metal. Please, please let that be something non-vital. She pressed her left hand against the monster and felt around her neck for the button that would activate the electricity pads in her suit’s palm. One of the tendrils lay across her neck, keeping her head down, and she couldn’t get her hand under it.