No one moved.

  Just then, the single overhead light flickered. When it blinked back to life, a figure was standing just inside the outer doors. He remained there, unmoving, cloaked in shadows.

  Until the lights winked out again…

  After a few seconds, the fluorescents relit, but the mysterious figure was gone. Bowen stepped into the center of the room and splayed her penlight around the space, not finding anything out of the ordinary. Daphne, Goodrum, and Santos, likewise, lifted their lights to join in on the search.

  With a yelp and a flash of blinding, blue light, Santos disappeared from view behind one of the surgical tables. The attack was so close to Bowen and Daphne that it showered them in crimson. They were both slathered in Santos’ blood, and they quickly clutched one another in fright.

  A skittering sound picked up all around them, and it must have been too much for Daphne to handle. The younger girl squealed, shoved out of Bowen’s arms, and took off racing toward the front doors.

  The doctor’s eyes found Goodrum’s. Quietly, she reached a hand out but was likewise sprayed in his blood when he was ripped away from her, their fingertips touching one another’s. She and Daphne were the last ones alive. Whatever killed Abbott had come back.

  Daphne! Bowen thought, returning her attention to her frightened assistant.

  Another figure stepped into the room, directly behind the backpedaling Daphne. Tripping, she banged into the tall, broad man’s chest and cried out in fear. Turning quickly, she lashed out with her flashlight. The small, yet well-built Maglite, struck the newcomer in the temple.

  “John?” Daphne asked, putting a trembling hand to her mouth. “Oh, my God, I’m so sorry! I—”

  Bowen stumbled back when Nathan grabbed Daphne by the throat and plucked her off the ground with ease. He was much larger than the petite medical assistant, but no one should’ve been able to manhandle another human being with such ease—especially one that was thrashing as wildly as Daphne currently was.

  “What are you doing?” Bowen shouted, diving into her bag.

  She procured one of the scalpels, pulled off the blade’s plastic guard, and charged in to help her friend. Halfway to Daphne, Bowen was yanked to a stop by something behind her. Frightened and running on pure adrenaline, she spun and buried the tip of the instrument into her attacker’s shoulder.

  “Seth?” she asked, stumbling backward.

  Donovan was hanging upside-down. His clothes consisted of a pair of tattered pants, and nothing else—shirt, shoes, socks—all were missing. With his face impossibly close to hers, Bowen could do nothing else except stand as still as a stone, frozen in fear. Donovan wasn’t himself anymore. Something had happened to him during the accident.

  But I examined him, she thought, running through a hundred different possibilities.

  “What happened?” Bowen asked, choking back a sob.

  Donovan’s malicious grin widened.

  He replied in a chorus of harmonizing voices—Bowen’s team’s voices. “We were born.”

  * * *

  With Bowen’s scalpel embedded in the meat of his shoulder, and still hanging upside-down, Donovan gripped Bowen by the head and lifted her off the ground, his bare feet sticking to the ceiling without issue. Bowen’s eyes opened wide when his lower jaw dislocated, and the appendage that took the place of his tongue shot forward. As before, it buried itself deep within his target’s open mouth, and similarly, a gagging sound replaced that of the person’s screams.

  As he pumped the plasma into her body, the knowledge that he sought was swiftly transferred to him, transplanted into his brain by the shared consciousness of the organisms within his new blood. Those organisms were the ones that collected the data from within Lisa Bowen’s mind. With every passing second, Donovan’s hypothesis into the creatures, now living within him, became clearer and more apparent.

  The octopus was infected with a type of super-bacterium. It was a completely natural mutation and more unique than anything on his homeworld. He didn’t know how he knew that to be accurate, but it was. The conviction he felt, and the ease with which he believed it, confirmed as much.

  Before dropping Bowen’s lifeless body to the floor, Donovan came across a more recent memory, one that revolved around the captain’s daughter.

  “Interesting…” Donovan said, wiping his drooling mouth.

  “Yes,” Nathan, Santos, and Goodrum replied together, “very interesting…”

  The only one that didn’t speak was Daphne. She was dead. It saddened Donovan to know that she didn’t survive her rebirth. Apparently, and regrettably, not everyone was meant to.

  He released his hold on the ceiling and dropped, flipping in midair. He landed effortlessly, and without sound, on top of the nearest examination table. There, perched like a vulture, he beamed when Bowen stirred awake and stood.

  They had the knowledge of the ESD agents and the use of their weapons, and now they had the experience of the ship’s medical staff. There was only one thing left now that Donovan required to meet his goal—the Endeavor itself.

  They needed to overthrow the bridge and join with House and the rest of the crew.

  Then, they’d head for McMurdo Station.

  Command. Navigation. Engineering. Donovan smiled wide. Assimilation.

  13

  With Grigson still missing, and Abbott dead, and with no other leads to follow, House was forced to put the Endeavor on high alert. He made the call himself, overriding everyone’s comms unit to do so. Currently, House leaned on the rail that overlooked Navigation and Engineering. Just in case, he kept the fire axe handy, propping it up against a pole near his feet.

  Their biggest issue, besides having a killer on the loose and another sailor missing, was that they couldn’t dock yet. Sam was finishing up with a call to McMurdo now. House could’ve just as straightforwardly called them himself, but he didn’t. He honestly didn’t know what to tell them. Sam kept things professional and only stated the facts.

  “Okay,” the XO said, getting House’s attention. “See you at 0600 hours.”

  House stood straight and turned but didn’t remove himself from the railing. Solemnly, he folded his arms and sighed, waiting for Sam to inform him. But he already knew what the young man was going to say.

  “As we expected, sir,” Sam said.

  “6 A.M., huh?”

  Sam nodded. “I’m afraid so.”

  House met the XO’s eyes, feeling tired. “They’re getting whacked that hard?”

  “I’m not sure,” Sam replied, shrugging, “but I’d imagine it’s worse than what we’re experiencing.” He blushed, realizing what he said. “The weather, I mean… But there’s supposed to be a long enough break for us to make a successful approach. So, it’s not all bad news.”

  House patted Sam on the shoulder, making sure he knew that he understood what he’d meant. Turning, he looked back out over the three-story-tall room. If he leaned out far enough, he’d be able to see Buddy’s station directly beneath him, though House doubted he was actually there. The old mechanic preferred the engine room any day to his desk.

  Blinking hard, House yawned as he spoke. “Any…word from the ESD office?”

  “No, sir.” Sam looked worried.

  “What’s the matter?”

  The XO took a deep breath. “I can’t raise any of them, sir.”

  Just wonderful, House thought, cracking his neck. He picked up his axe. Better go have a look.

  “Need a hand?” Sam asked as he always did.

  House shook his head. “No, I’m good. Besides, this place would fall apart without you looking after it.” Sam rolled his eyes but smirked, nonetheless.

  Together, Gianna and Trip had gone back to her room while House made his way up to the bridge. He would’ve preferred his daughter stay in the bridge, but at least she wasn’t alone.

  Gianna said she was feeling queasy after her experience, and honestly, House couldn’t blame her. The hole in the back of Abbott’s head, combined with the look on his face, was a hard thing to get over.

  Or forget.

  No, this time, House would go at it alone and visit the ESD office and demand to know why they were ignoring his calls. Even they, “Becker’s Bunch,” could get written up for dereliction of duty. What good was having a security detail on board if they couldn’t be reached when in need? There were still two of them left—three if Grigson ever showed her face again.

  Even if her profile didn’t match that of a coldblooded killer, House didn’t know much about Grigson to begin with, although she was his prime suspect. The only other person that wasn’t acting like himself was Donovan. House almost laughed out loud at the notion of the sheepish scientist murdering someone with such ferocity. He was definitely the definition of “all bark and no bite.”

  House liked to think he possessed the perfect balance of both bark and bite. He might have to let that dog out soon too. If he found the other two ESD agents sitting on their asses doing nothing, House was going to go all Cujo on them and tear them a new one.

  He’d never had a major run-in with any of the ESD agents, but House did get a sense that they knew he held no real authority over them, unless you counted the paperwork he could file against them. While everyone else gave House their full attention—even Donovan, whenever he was present—no one within the ESD did. Again, it had yet to cause an issue, even after three months out at sea.

  My luck, House thought, shaking his head. Now, out of all the days, they get ballsy and act like pricks.

  The ESD office wasn’t far from the bridge, only a couple of minutes’ walk if you weren’t in a hurry, and since he’d been all over the ship in the last couple of hours, House was taking his damn time. His comms unit was wide open, and anyone could get a hold of him if he were needed.

  His mind wandered, and he thought of his deceased wife, and his rebellious daughter. Gianna had straightened her life up, but that side of her was still there. House harbored the same edge, but he managed to contain it, having the wisdom to understand a time and place to release it upon the world.

  Like now…

  He stopped dead in his tracks.

  The door to the ESD office was as open as his comms unit, something that never happened. They didn’t want anyone in their business and kept the door locked at all times. Besides, they were aboard to keep an eye out for any subterfuge amongst House and Donovan’s teams. He couldn’t care less if they kept the doors locked.

  With everything that had transpired since bringing that damned octopus on board, House decided it was time to let the dog out. Thankfully, this old dog still had a spring in his step and a little stealth up his sleeve. He used the latter to silently glide up to the agape entrance and snap his head in and out of the opening. In the millisecond it took him to do so, House got a look at the entire room.

  The square space was void of life; there had definitely been a struggle recently. The “vault,” as it was called, was wide open and empty. It wasn’t actually a vault, that’s just what the agents called their weapons locker. Regardless, it meant bad news. House had personally cataloged everything that was inside it, demanding that he at least know what was being brought on his ship. God forbid if something like a bomb got smuggled on board because one of the agents was a terrorist or something.

  Each of the four ESD agents had a sidearm, but there were also four Tasers and eight pairs of handcuffs. Oddly, the restraints were the only thing still present. Apparently, whoever took the weapons didn’t plan on detaining anyone.

  They plan on hurting people.

  Seemingly alone, House let his guard down and stepped inside. Passing across the threshold, he was bowled into with the force of a wrecking ball. He was thrown sideways, taken off his feet, straight into the left-hand wall. Whoever it was that hit him, they must’ve been incredibly stout to move him like that. House wasn’t a giant like Nova, but he still stood six-one and weighed a hair over two-hundred pounds.

  The axe clattered to the floor as he hit, but he kept his wits about him and quickly reacquired it. Shaking off the impact, he looked up at his attacker from one knee, stunned at who assaulted him.

  “Agent Grigson?”

  It was plain to see that she was well-built, but House easily outweighed her by more than sixty pounds. He slowly stood, towering over her by six inches. There was no way in hell that she should’ve been able to take him off his feet. Her sidearm was still holstered on her right hip, and she sported a sheathed combat knife on her left side next to one of the missing Tasers.

  “You okay?” he asked, knowing she wasn’t. “What’s wrong with your eyes?”

  They flashed and swirled with the same intensity he saw earlier down in the launch bay, only this time, it was confined to the woman’s eye sockets. He wasn’t aware of Grigson being involved in the creature’s acquisition, nor how it could possibly relate to her eyes now, but it was the only thing he could think of.

  “We are fine,” Grigson replied, smiling wide. It wasn’t a happy smile, either. It was one of a hungry predator. It looked as if she wanted to have House for lunch.

  “We?” House asked, needing to keep her talking while he came up with a plan.

  “Yes,” Grigson said, “we…”

  Without taking her focus off of him, she raised her right hand and pointed toward the weapons locker at the rear of the room. House took his eyes off the woman long enough to see something he had missed earlier. The back wall of the office was splattered with blood.

  She stepped forward, her eyes pulsating furiously.

  “I…I don’t understand,” House said, moving to his left, but keeping his shoulders square to her. He held the fire axe in both hands, keeping it between them. “Who is we?”

  She smiled as if she was sharing a joke with someone not in the room. Her lips opened and closed. It took House a second to realize that she was inaudibly speaking to someone. Grigson wasn’t wearing her earpiece either, so House had no idea who it could be, or how it was happening.

  “We…” Grigson replied. “‘We’ is all of us.”

  What the hell does that mean?

  House needed to come up with something fast! The office wasn’t huge, maybe twenty-by-twenty in size and it was filled with the everyday office essentials. Desks, chairs, filing cabinets… He wouldn’t have a lot of room to maneuver if he got into a brawl with the smaller, yet, seemingly powerful agent.

  “Who gave you the drugs?” House asked, feeling foolish.

  Grigson laughed, but it came out like a rasping hiss.

  She launched at him, and he reacted by bringing the axe head skyward in a rising arch. The blade connected and slashed Grigson’s flesh, catching across the left side of her face, jaw to cheek. Being unarmed, House couldn’t believe that she attacked him like that.

  Grigson hardly stumbled back, however. She didn’t bleed either.

  “What the fuck?” House mumbled, stepping back, dumbfounded.

  Grigson fingered the wound, sticking her index finger through her face and into her mouth.

  “Sorry, Captain,” she hissed, laughing as she spoke, “but the dead don’t bleed.”

  14

  The dead? House thought, trying to put two and two together. He was concentrating so hard on what Grigson said that he didn't get his hands up in time to block her next attack.

  Grigson was airborne, having leaped straight over a desk like an Olympic gymnast, striking House in the chest hard with her booted feet. Stumbling back, he tripped over something on the floor and fell.

  “Not…possible!” he grunted, shoving the axe handle sideways across her chest. She’d gone airborne again as soon as he went down, pouncing on top of him with hooked fingers and her teeth bared. He watched in horror as her mouth opened wider, and then, with a pop, her lower jaw unhinged. Out slid the most revolting thing he’d ever seen.

  “Oh, God!” he shouted, sneering in disgust.

  Her tongue, at least he thought it was her tongue, like her eyes, strobed and swirled just beneath the surface. The texture reminded him of sandpaper but slathered in snot.

  He put his prodigious upper-body strength to use and pushed against her slighter frame, bench-pressing her skyward. Locking out his elbows, House was able to get his feet between them and flipped the agent up-and-over his head. Grigson slammed into the rear wall head-first, denting the plaster with her forehead and shoulder.

  House took the respite to get to his feet and collect himself. He turned to face Grigson but stumbled again on whatever had tripped him before. He looked down and found Agent Dansby staring back up at him. It wasn’t the fact that he was dead that stunned House the most, it was how he had died.

  Oh, shit…

  House could see straight through the man’s open mouth and spotted the floor through the back of his busted-out skull. Then it dawned on him… Whoever, or whatever, killed Dansby also ended Abbott’s life.

  “You killed Abbott and Dansby?”

  Grigson didn’t respond. She just yanked her shoulder out of the wall and spun on House. She closed her spread fingers into fists and looked ready to launch herself at him once more. If she did, House was going to be prepared for it.

  Instead, the thing that now posed as her tongue backtracked into her mouth and her lower jaw snapped back into place. The sight and sound made House gag. She had to help her mandible at the end, twisting and pulling on it until it was back in place enough to speak.

  “Danthby?” she replied with a slight lisp. “Yeth…” She opened and closed her mouth a couple times, and her speech returned to normal. “He didn’t take to our joining. But, Abbott,” she smiled, “no, that wasn’t me.”

  House was done with the games.

  “Who killed Abbott?” he roared, gripping the axe handle so hard he thought he’d break it.

  What she said next both confused and shook House.

  “Seth Donovan.”