A slender sheet of metal fluttered high above Davidson for a moment, held aloft by its surface area. But Davidson, whose reaction was to flinch away and raise his hands, remained in the same position as the metal sheet tilted to one side and slid down like a guillotine. It sliced off his hand at the forearm. He opened his mouth to scream, but the sheet then struck between his shoulder and neck, shaving off a side of ribs and penetrating down to his gut. The weight of the giant metal playing card pulled him over. King saw the man, nearly cleaved in half. Davidson was dead.

“This way!” Alexander shouted, leading the team out the back as a very large, unseen attacker pounded through the roof and made short work of the lab beneath.

They exited through the back door into an alleyway where a very out of place black Mercedes waited for them. A moment later, the back wall of the warehouse fell in. King looked back to see a golem, constructed from a mishmash of metal from the warehouse, a car, and chunks of pavement, rise up, ready to strike the building once more. “In!” he shouted, opening the Mercedes’s back door. The team piled in and Alexander had them screeching down the alley in moments. The golem, as big as it was, would never catch them.

Alexander stopped the car at the end of the alley and looked back. The golem was trying to force its way through the tangled ruins of the warehouse. He took a phone out of his pocket and dialed a number. He looked back again. A moment later the golem disappeared in a ball of fire that consumed the entire warehouse, destroying everything inside—the samples, lab equipment, and Davidson.

As they drove away, King took a moment to mourn the death of Davidson, who had lost his life for something that wasn’t his problem. Then he focused on the nagging question that entered his mind the moment the attack had begun: How did he find us?

The answer came quickly. He turned to Alexander. “Check your pockets. Your phone. Everything. One of us is being tracked.”

Alexander pulled the car over. Despite the strange scene of two men patting themselves down by the side of the road, no one paid them any attention. All eyes were on the rising column of smoke.

King had searched most of his body when he realized that the only article of clothing he had yet to change since his search for Fiona had begun was his cargo pants. He’d checked the pockets first, but neglected the cargo pockets lower on his leg. He could feel the aberration as he reached for it. He took hold of the small object and pulled it from his pocket. It was the size and shape of a Tylenol capsule.

Alexander saw him holding it. “Destroy it.”