She skidded to a halt at the entrance to the recreation room, fumbling to fit a fresh clip of bullets into her gun. The nearly spent flare continued to splutter on the floor where she’d thrown it, tossing a red glow across the overturned furniture. Jay lay in the middle of the room, spreadeagle, his legs twitching feebly.

“Jay?” Charles hissed, approaching him. She didn’t see Ellan. “Jay, can you hear me?”

His eyes were blank, staring at the roof, and his mouth lolled open. Charles pressed a hand to his chest. He felt cold. She gave him a gentle shake then pulled her hand back with a gasp as she felt his skin roil under her fingers. A tiny black tendril stretched over Jay’s bottom lip, tasting the air for a second before retreating.

“No!” Charles gasped. She clamped a hand over her mouth, smothering the wail building inside her.

The body in the sleeping quarters. The body that leaked inky black blood. It must have been changing. The final team member had seen it changing, and he shot it then hid in the bathroom and killed himself because the alternative was too terrible to stand.

Charles pressed her palms against her eyelids as bile rose into her mouth. What she needed to do was clear, but the very idea made her want to be sick. She’d become fond of Jay, despite his merciless flirting and teasing.

It can’t be real. He can’t be infested. He can’t be changing. He’s Jay, for goodness sake; he’s the ass who’s impervious to harm.

Still, she could see the black things crawling around his mouth, poking at his gums, and rubbing over his large teeth. Teeth like a horse’s and a mouth like a gate to hell.

How long had it taken Robin to change? It must have been fast; they’d found her within a couple of minutes of hearing the gunshots. And judging by the way Jay’s fingers twitched, he wasn’t going to stay still for long. There was no room for delay.

“I’m so sorry, Jay. You deserved better than this.” Jay’s head jerked at her voice, and his eyes rolled around in their sockets to fix on her. Something strange and cruel lurked there, and Charles knew she was no longer talking to her Jay. She raised the gun, aimed it at her partner’s head, squeezed her eyes closed, and pulled the trigger.

The crack echoed through the rec room. Charles held still for a moment, tasting the gun’s bitter propellant on her tongue, before opening her eyes. Jay was still. Her bullet had entered at his temple, and the hole was so small that she could almost pretend it wasn’t there, except blood, inky black, oozed out from under his head.

Charles pulled herself up. Her legs felt unstable, but she couldn’t stand being in the room with her dead partner for a moment more. She turned towards the hallway and started running, leaping over the toppled furniture and trying to make out a clear path in the dim light. She didn’t know where Ellan was, and she didn’t want to find out. She was the only member of her team left—and the only one who knew what had happened on Station 332.