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Jed reaches into his pack off the side of the camera’s view and tugs out a pair of black glasses, a thick pair of gloves, and two long, handheld objects, which he sets on the ground.

“What’s this?” The camera lowers as Six kneels beside the objects that I can’t even begin to identify.

“Thermal erosion cutting torches. Each of these sends a blast of flame--a blade, more, or less--that reaches over five-thousand degrees farenheit. It was used by military and law enforcement to breach barriers.” He twists back toward Six, lifting one of the sabers into his hand. “You might want to step back.”

The camera moves away from the door, while Jed lines up the first saber along the frame of it. The sound of forced air accompanies the bright orange flare of light, which Jed slides down the edge of the door. He then grabs the second torch and does the same to the other side, signaling for Six to approach. The camera draws near, and Jed jerks his head. “One good kick oughta do it. Figured you pack more power in your legs.”

Bracing his hands at either side of the frame, careful to avoid the charred edges that might still be hot, Six lifts his leg and slams his boot against the center of the door. Once. Twice. The seemingly impenetrable door tips backward like a fallen opponent, and a crash echoes through the tunnel. I slap my hands to my ears with the sound of it, my heart picking up its pace at the thought of all those mutations rising out of their slumber with the ruckus.

The men pause for a moment, not bothering to rush inside.

The hallway stands dark, but with an arc of the flashlight, I can make out the surrounding destruction.

“Fucking reeks down here.” Tinker’s voice somewhere beyond the camera’s view feels unfitting for the unsettling view ahead--a breath of familiarity in the bowels of hell. “It’s like … rotted meat.”

“Please be careful.” My whisper is so quiet, I wonder if Six even hears it.

Light from the flashlights bounce over stained white walls that’re streaked in a deep crimson red I’m certain is dried blood. A door hangs from its hinges, and beyond it, lies the destroyed remains of a laboratory. Equipment scattered about the floor mingles with broken glass and tattered papers. Errant drops of deep burgundy is undoubtedly more blood. The camera latches onto feet sticking out from the side of a bench, and approaching it reveals the skeletal remains of a body. The labcoat bears a nametag, and Jed kneels down beside it.

“Marcus Turner. I didn’t see him in the evacuation group. Wondered if he had gotten out.” He clambers back to his feet. “C’mon. The samples we’re after are in the lower levels. We need to find them as quickly as possible.”

The group exits the room, and once again, the dark hallway lies ahead. Every nerve in my body is flaring with the fear that pulses through me in waves, twisting knots in my stomach. My muscles are as poised as if I’m walking alongside them through those halls.

The sound of distant screeching brings the group to a halt, and Jed turns around to face the screen, eyes wide, the light from the camera illuminating his face.

“There’s something I failed to mention earlier.” He glances over his shoulder, as if he senses something behind him. “Unlike the Ragers we’ve come to know, these more primitive species hunt in packs. They will share the spoils of their kill, which means you will be torn apart alive, if they get their hands on you.”

“Fucks sake, man. I’m already on the verge of pissing myself over here.” The camera swings to Tinker standing alongside Ratchet, whose eyes scan over his surroundings.

As the camera’s view turns back toward Jed, it catches movement, and my heart leaps into my throat.

Silvery eyes watch them from the darkness beyond.

Chapter 21

Cali

There’s a chill on the air, the kind that penetrates beyond the skin and down to my very bones, like death trailing our footsteps. Titus leads the group through the tunnels, which stand eerily quiet and empty. I recall the story Cadmus told us a while back about being sent down here.

The air got thinner. Colder. By the time I reached the bottom, I swore I fell into winter. I unhooked the line and turned the brightness of my light up. At either side of me were long stretches of dark concrete tunnels that just seemed to go on forever.

Seems an accurate description for the long corridor that appears to stretch well beyond my flashlight, making me wonder if he really was sent down here. I thought it nothing but a mind trick, more of Calico’s mental torment, but perhaps it was all real. Perhaps the new scars on his body really were put there by something that lurks down here.

I twist just enough to catch sight of Cadmus bringing up the rear. He still seems lucid, as he casually strolls along, eyes wandering the tunnels. Although, his sudden nonchalance doesn’t make sense. Surely, just being in this place would act as a trigger for him. I didn’t even see the things he’s seen, yet walking these tunnels makes me edgy and uneasy.

A relentless tremble vibrates beneath my skin, the deeper we venture, and if not for the two Alphas boxing us in, I’m not certain I’d have the nerves to keep going. A constant thread of anxiety hangs on the air, threatening of death and agony, or perhaps it’s just the overwhelming scent of rot clinging to my nose. There’s something down here, though. I can feel it.

Titus comes to a stop beneath a long silver shaft, connected to the ceiling about six feet overhead, and from his pack, he removes one of the flares. Jed gave us some minor instruction in their use, and Titus goes right to work, snapping the cap off one end and striking it against the end of the stick. A bright light illuminates the dark tunnel on a hiss of flame, which soon becomes white noise as he props the flare on the ground by its steel prongs.

Inside the shaft above us, metal rungs stick out along the inner surface of it--a ladder--but getting up to them seems to be the challenge. Titus waves Cadmus over. “Give me a boost, will ya? I’ll find some rope, or something, to send down.”

“What’s above us? Do we even know?” I peer up into the endless silver abyss that darkens to blackness beyond.

Scratching his face, Cadmus snorts and walks past me, toward Titus. “Depends. You could take this shaft all the way to the roof. There’s a big ass vent in the specimen storage room, though. That’s where they sent me down from.”

I focus on him, taking in the air of humor in his words, this sudden strange behavior in him, as if he’s completely unaffected by our surroundings.

Beside Titus, he locks his fingers together, on which Titus plants his boot, and Cadmus hoists him up into the air. Reaching out for the bottommost rung, Titus pulls himself up into the wide shaft, and as it swallows him, we watch his feet disappear beyond the ceiling.