“Roger,” Sho replied.

  “Fifty meters,” Caleb said, giving her the position. There was a slight angle to the corridor ahead. “We need to get around the corner before they do.”

  “On it,” Sho said, sprinting forward. Caleb sped up after her, feeling the pushback from his body immediately. He wasn’t so far removed from his injury that he could go all-out without complaint.

  It didn’t matter. This was his duty, and he would fall flat on his face and die before he would let Sho make that turn alone. He growled softly as he pushed harder, his slightly wobbly legs supported by the combat armor’s artificial muscle.

  They reached the corner, turning only a few seconds ahead of the trife. The demons were so close to Sho that Caleb had a moment of terror, certain they were going to cut her down.

  Gas spewed from her P-50, washing them in heat that burned the skin from their muscle and the muscle from the bone. Twenty trife dropped in a second, the others hissing and screaming and trying to back away. Caleb raised his rifle and fired into their backs, cutting them down before they could escape.

  “Alpha, we’re closing on your position,” Wagner said. “Picking up trife coming out of the walls behind you.”

  Caleb checked his HUD. The trife had approached from an access tunnel, trying to ambush them from the rear. Didn’t they know the Raptors were further back?

  “Raptor One, hold your position!” Caleb shouted. “Wedge up; you’re in the crosshairs.”

  “Say again, Alpha?”

  “They’re boxing you in. Wedge formation, full retreat. Circle to the central lifts and take them down to Deck Twenty, we’ll rendezvous at the mess outside Metro.”

  “Roger that. We’re… Raptor Two, watch your six! Flores, coming your way!”

  Caleb quickly brought up the vitals of the Marines under his command. Raptor Two had gone red. Damn it!

  “They’re tearing us apart,” he said. The trife were outmaneuvering them at every turn, using their ability to accurately locate them in the maze of corridors to pick them off. He had thought the confines and corridors were giving his Guardians the advantage, but now he realized his mistake.

  As deadly as the trife had been in the open spaces on Earth, they were much more deadly in here.

  Chapter 40

  “Should we help them?” Hafizi asked.

  “Negative,” Caleb replied. “We need to get to Deck Twenty. If the trife overwhelm Metro, it’s all over for all of us.”

  “Roger that.”

  They regained their formation, rushing toward the stairwell. Caleb kept his attention on the HUD, monitoring the Raptors’ retreat. He opened the feed from Wagner’s helmet camera just in time to watch the team run past a suddenly opening hatch to their left. Wagner spun around, shooting the first trife out of it before spinning back. Muzzle flashes and the sound of gunfire echoed off the walls. Wagner ran full-ahead, Raptors Three and Four behind him, getting ahead of the ambush.

  “Raptor One, you have permission to use secondary ordnance,” Caleb said.

  “Roger that, Alpha,” Wagner replied. “Raptor Four, blow them to shit.”

  Wagner spun back again, giving Caleb a view of the destruction as Flores pulled the secondary trigger and sent a silver ball into the midst of the trailing horde. He felt the vibrations in the floor as the round went off, putting a quick end to the chase.

  “You called it, Alpha,” Wagner said. “How did you know?”

  “Intuition, I guess. Meet us on Deck Twenty.”

  “Affirmative, Alpha.”

  The Vultures reached the stairwell, pushing through and onto the steps. “Sho, switch positions with me. Wash, swap with Haffy. Armor in front and rear.”

  “Roger,” they replied, updating the formation. Caleb eyed the tactical, waiting for targets to come into sensor range. They started down the narrow stairwell single-file.

  “Craft, we’re dropping to Deck Twenty. What’s the situation?”

  “Sheriff Aveline is reporting a broken seal in one of the engineering maintenance corridors. They’re doing their best to hold the trife back, but they’re losing ground. They’re going to solder the secondary hatch between the city itself and the passage, but it can’t stay that way forever. The corridor leads to the water filtration units.”

  Caleb didn’t need Craft to explain what that meant. He already knew. If the units were to break and the engineers couldn’t fix them, the entire city would die anyway.

  “We’re almost there,” Caleb said, dropping to Deck Seventeen.

  The Vultures kept going, racing downward. Caleb’s tactical updated with new targets as he reached Deck Fifteen, the trife joining them on the stairwell from two decks above.

  “Haffy, watch your tail,” he warned.

  “On it, Alpha,” Hafizi replied. “Don’t slow down.”

  Caleb didn’t, dropping the last set of risers to the hatch on Deck Fourteen. He glanced at his HUD. The trife were pouring into the stairwell like water, from each of the doors above them, at least a hundred of the demons in all. How many of the creatures were in here? They had estimated the number at six hundred, but it seemed like there were more.

  A lot more.

  Caleb grabbed the handle of the hatch, turning and pushing it. His shoulder slammed into the door when it didn’t open.

  “What the?” He turned it and pushed again. The door was jammed. “Shit!”

  Sho nearly collided with him, expecting him to be through the hatch and into the corridor. “Alpha?”

  “Haffy, we’re jammed up here. Hold the rear. Wash, hold the rear. Switch to conventional.”

  Caleb heard the bullets start flying a moment later, a long burst that cut into the trailing trife. He turned back to the door. Why was it stuck? He was starting to feel like the Deliverance had it in for them.

  The firefight intensified behind him. He took a step back, and then lunged at the door, kicking it right above the handle. Something cracked and snapped, and the door flew open.

  “We’re through!” Caleb said, moving into the corridor. His ATCS lit up to his right, a massive blob of red. Craft hadn’t been kidding when he said all of them. He quickly checked on the Raptor’s position. They were nearing the central lifts.

  “Alpha, there are too many,” Hafizi said. “Where are they all coming from?”

  “We’re clear,” Caleb said. “Get down here, and we’ll seal the stairwell. Move it, Marine!”

  Caleb turned in the direction of the trife. The demons were facing away from him, toward what he assumed was the corridor leading to the broken hatch. They started shifting as he moved aside. Sho shouldered up next to him with her P-50.

  “How many are there?” she asked.

  “Too many,” Caleb replied, glancing back. There was a corridor a few meters behind them. “We can go around.”

  Washington came out of the stairwell with them.

  “We need to wait for Hafizi,” Sho said.

  The trife began their charge, rushing them from thirty meters away.

  Caleb looked at the stairwell and then checked the tactical. Hafizi should have been right behind them, but he was still in the stairwell. His vitals were orange from a wound to his leg. He had gotten hit and hadn’t said anything.

  “Shit, Hafizi’s down,” Caleb said. “Break down the corridor and wind your way back. Use the urine to throw them off. You need to get back to the seal – ”

  “Alpha, I’m down,” Hafizi said. “Leg is done. Can’t run. Get out of here.”

  “Haffy, I’m coming.”

  “No you’re not. Fire in the hole!” Hafizi shouted.

  “Run!” Caleb shouted, turning and sprinting away from the stairwell, Sho and Washington right behind him.

  Caleb heard the explosion, felt the vibration and then the heat as the grenade went off, blasting out the side of the stairwell and into the chasing trife. They hissed and screamed and died, their brethren behind them momentarily distracted as they stumbled over their dead and dying. Caleb lowered his head, only able to spare a moment to mourn the loss of another fellow Guardian.

  The three remaining Vultures ran along the adjacent corridor. Caleb kept an eye on his HUD. Some of the trife were still coming, but others had turned back to focus on getting into Metro.

  “We can’t even get close,” Sho said as they neared another intersection, turning left and continuing along the corridor. “They always know where we are.”

  “They didn’t know where you were before. They tracked Hafizi and me.”

  Washington came to an abrupt stop.

  “Wash, what are you doing?” Caleb said, stopping and turning.

  The big Marine thrust his finger out at him, shaking it forcefully.

  “What?”

  Washington approached him, tapping on his helmet, and then on his back where the ATCS power supply was located.

  Caleb stared at him. Of course. He was an idiot. The battery pack was using energy. Creating heat. Not to mention sending all kinds of radio signals. The trife were picking up one of those things, or maybe both of those things. They were drawn to the SOS. They would be similarly drawn to the CIC, the bridge, or Metro.

  He looked past Washington, raising his rifle as the trife approached, firing into them. He cut them down in a long burst, killing nearly a dozen and leaving them free and clear, at least for the moment.

  “Raptor One, sitrep.”

  “We’re in the lift, Alpha,” Wagner replied. “On our way to Fourteen.”

  “Roger that. I’ve got new orders, and they’re going to sound a little crazy, and it’s going to make things even more challenging, but it may be the only chance we have.”

  Chapter 41

  Sho and Washington helped Caleb out of his combat armor, leaving him in only a pair of boxer briefs and a t-shirt, both of which were already soaked with sweat from the exertion of the fighting. It was impossible to keep wearing the SOS without it powered up, the armor plating too heavy for him to carry without the assistance of the artificial muscles. The boots were part of the SOS as well, and his bare feet quickly grew cold on the metal floor.

  If there was any good news, it was that his headache was returning, which also meant his finer motor control and strength was coming back with it, the medication he had taken earlier wearing off.

  He missed the ATCS immediately, both in his inability to communicate with the Raptors and the loss of the positioning of the trife within the sensor grid. He wasn’t thrilled to lose contact with Craft either, but there was no other choice. They had to take the trife by surprise, and they couldn’t do that when their equipment was telegraphing all of their movements. He could picture the Raptors standing in one of the lifts stripping out of their SOS. He had heard of Marines who went naked beneath the combat armor. He hoped none of them fit into that profile.

  Caleb finished undressing and then grabbed the MK-12 and the P-50, slinging the plasma rifle over his shoulder. He had no way to carry the laser pistol, so he left it in the small storage compartment they had slipped into.

  The door slid aside, offering them exodus back into the passageway. Caleb took it slow, pausing in the frame and scanning both sides of the corridor, MK-12 up and ready. He missed the targeting reticle of the ATCS too.

  “Clear,” he said, moving out into the hallway. He had checked tactical before shutting down, and he knew which way they had to go. He led the Vultures down the passage to the next intersection and turned left, followed that one past three adjacent corridors and turned left again, stopping at the corner.

  The trife assaulting Metro were gathered there, still hissing at one another as they waited for the group up front to pierce the city’s defenses. Craft had said the engineers managed to get the secondary hatch sealed and fused, stuck closed until they undid their work, which would only happen when someone in the Guardians gave the all clear.

  Sho handed him one of their urine traps. He unscrewed the top and threw it straight across the intersection. A dozen heads turned the moment it hit the ground and spilled.

  Caleb ducked back, and the three Vultures retreated a few meters down the hallway, waiting for the trife to start turning the corner.

  They didn’t wait long.

  A group of ten demons moved to the intersection, turning in the direction of the urine, hissing to one another when they saw there was no one there.

  It didn’t matter. It was already too late for them. Sho and Washington both fired their plasma rifles, cutting the aliens down.

  “Clear,” Sho said.

  Caleb ran forward, watching where he placed his bare feet as he stepped over the freshly killed trife, their melted bodies still steaming hot. More of the demons turned away from the Metro hatch, reacting to the death of their brethren. Louder hisses rose from the group, and a larger mass charged Caleb.

  “Get ready,” he said, firing a few potshots into the group. Then he broke to the right, toward the spilled urine, hopping athletically over it.

  Sho and Washington pressed against the sides of the hallway, and they waited for the group of trife to turn the corner and begin chasing Caleb before moving into the open. They fired their plasma rifles into the backs of the demons, killing them before they had any idea what was happening.

  Caleb stopped and turned around, shooting one demon who managed to escape the plasma stream. He waved to Sho and Washington, who flashed him a thumbs-up. Clear again, all three of the Vultures moved back into position near the intersection, looking down toward the outer hatch.

  The trife were gone from the passageway, the group waiting in the back already dead. Caleb could still hear their hisses echoing from ahead of the primary seal, but they were fading moment by moment.

  “They’re on the move, Sarge,” Sho said.

  “Trying to find out what’s going on without staying in the open,” Caleb said. “Wash, are you keeping time?”

  Washington nodded.

  “How long?”

  The big Marine let the plasma rifle hang from its strap and put up both hands, lowering his fingers one at a time. A few seconds after he reached zero, a whistle sounded from the other side of the corridor.

  The Raptors.

  “Full assault mode,” Caleb said. “Hard and fast. This is going to get ugly. There’s no way around it.”

  “Roger that, Sarge,” Sho said.

  They had gotten as many of the trife as they could to break ranks. While the demons were currently moving into the vents and access tunnels, they would come back once they saw what they were dealing with. The unarmored Guardians would be surrounded, and they would have no other option but to fight their way out of it.

  In a sense, it was their last stand against the creatures. Except it wasn’t. Even if they survived, they still had the queen to deal with.

  Caleb whistled back, signaling the Vultures were ready.

  “Here we go, Marines,” he said.

  “Oorah!” Sho replied while Washington pumped his fist.

  Then they charged.

  Chapter 42

  The Vultures joined with the Raptors as they reached the outer seal, which had been lifted away from the ground by the trife, using a strength Caleb couldn’t believe they possessed. Claw marks scored the narrow slot in the floor where the hatch rested when lowered closed. Even with the malfunctioning locking mechanism refusing to engage, the demons had done what the strength of a hydraulics couldn’t. They had clawed at the bottom of the hatch until they managed to force their claws beneath it and lift its great weight. It was an unforeseen failure for a relatively simple design. But it didn’t matter now. What was done was done.

  They just had to undo it.

  The six remaining Guardians moved through the broken hatch without comment, quickly organizing into a formation with a pair of plasma rifles front and back, and two MK-12s in the middle. They were expecting the corridors immediately beyond the passage to be crawling with trife, but they were surprisingly clear.

  It was so surprising that the Marines slowed to a stop a few meters in, looking both ways down the passage.

  “Where the hell did they go?” Wagner asked.

  “Wait,” Caleb said. “Listen.”

  The Marines stood in silence, listening for the trife. Caleb could hear clinking and thunking in the walls in both directions. The trife had moved into the ventilation shafts, but where were they going?

  “Which way to Metro?” Shiro asked.

  Caleb took a moment to recall the layout of the ship. “I’m pretty sure Metro is that way,” he said, pointing to the right.

  “What’s that way?” Wagner asked, motioning left.

  “Craft said the city was cut off from water filtration,” Caleb said. “It must be in that direction.”

  “Do you think the trife know what will happen if they destroy the city’s water supply?” Sho asked.

  “They can’t be that smart,” Wagner said. “They’re stupid bugs, like roaches.”

  “They aren’t stupid,” Sho said.

  “We can’t risk it,” Caleb decided. “Come on.”

  “You’re sure it’s this way, Sarge?”

  “Fifty-fifty chance. Move it, Guardians.”

  They turned left, running along a curving corridor that sloped downward. They passed a few hatches leading into other areas marked as water control, emergency cutoffs, and waste filtration. They slowed at each to see if the trife were there.

  They weren’t.

  The Guardians continued down the corridor, following it to an open hatch labeled as water filtration. A trife was standing guard directly inside it, and it hissed at them as they came into view.

  A single bolt from Sho killed the trife, setting off a chain reaction of hisses in the room behind it. Caleb looked down as a trail of water came around the corner and spilled out along the floor. He looked up again, able to make out the shadowy forms of multiple water tanks in the background, the trife slashing at them with their impossibly sharp claws.

  “Son of a bitch,” Wagner said, noticing the water. He raised his rifle.