Get to the ship. Get off the planet. Warn Central.

CHAPTER TEN

Charles ran as quietly as she could manage, not bothering to try any of the hallway lights. Her heartbeat throbbed in her head as she struggled to control her panic. The station felt different, in a strange, cold way, now that she was the last human within its metal walls. The air had become thicker and staler.

The airlock was empty, at least. Charles shoved open the door, slid into the room, and scrambled to pull on her suit. She couldn’t remember which cables Jay had used to close the doors and depressurise the chamber, but that didn’t matter: all she needed to do was suit up, break the external door open, get through the sea of diamonds outside to the ship, and get off the damned planet.

She’d just wriggled her first foot into its boot when she heard the smooth whoosh of closing doors behind her. Charles jumped backwards and swivelled in the same motion, knocking over one of the shelves.

Ellan stood against the opposite wall, having just reconnected the plug to lock the interior doors. She smiled at Charles. It wasn’t a nice expression. “Hello, pretty.”

Charles didn’t hesitate to raise the gun and open fire. Five rounds hit Ellan squarely in the chest and face, but she didn’t even flinch. Instead, her grin widened as the front of her suit split open. Black tendrils poured out, moving at an incredible speed. They picked up one of the tall metal shelves and hurled it at Charles. She ducked, but the shelf’s corner grazed her shoulder, sending her tumbling to the ground with a gasp of pain.

Another black tendril darted towards her. Charles was too slow; a tendril snatched the gun out of her hand and flung it against the opposite wall with enough force to shatter it and leave a chip in the concrete.

“You shot my sisters,” Ellan hissed.

Charles felt her breath freeze in her chest as she watched the bullet holes in the other woman knit together. Skin fused to skin, leaving Ellan’s face smooth and blemish-free. “They were the firstborn of my colony, and you shot them.”

Charles struggled to keep her face impassive as she crawled backwards, placing as much distance as she could between herself and the inhuman woman. She’d been in a lot of stressful situations, including a couple of close calls during her short military service. Once, her teammate had fumbled and dropped a ticking grenade at her feet, and during another incident, her crew had forgotten about her and nearly left her on a remote planet with no oxygen. But for the first time, she was truly terrified. Not of what the monster was, but of what it could do to her.

It wants to steal my skin. Turn my body into its home, absorb my memories, mimic my mannerisms, use my face as a mask. Would it hurt? Would I feel it as its black tendrils wriggle through my flesh, melt into my organs, infiltrate my brain? How long would I be aware?