Skull peeling away from its torso until the entire top half of its body has opened up like some awful flower, ready to swallow me whole.
I’m pinned in place by the horror of it, five meters away now, and I can’t help but screa—
BAMF.
The chimp-thing pops like a water balloon, Tyler’s disruptor blast knocking it sideways and spattering it across the undergrowth. As the blood touches them, the plants shiver and sigh, but Zila blasts them to ashes before any of them can move to attack us. My heart is thunder inside my chest and my legs are shaking and I’m looking for something bitchy or sassy to say, but I can’t quite manage it anymore. Ty’s already up and moving, Cat back in his arms. I can see the blood on her biosuit, the patch job over the tear, the blue pollen clinging to the silver.
As Ty wipes at her faceplate, I can see her eyes are blue, too.
They used to be brown.
“T-Tyler,” she moans. “They’re c-coming.”
“Scar, we need to move,” my brother says. “Now.”
His voice is like iron, but I can feel the fear in him. We’ve known each other since before we were born. I can read him better than anyone. And I know that under the facade, beneath the even tone and steady hands, he’s terrified.
For us.
For her.
I blink hard. Nod once. And then I’m up off my knees, moving quick. We run through the overgrown streets, through the swaying fronds, the med center finally looming up ahead of us.
We have to blast our way past the vines to get in through the entrance, but I’m not sure what he’s hoping to find here. Even if the place wasn’t being swallowed by this … infection, the facilities are two centuries old. It’s only now, up close, that I’m realizing how desperate and hopeless this plan is.
The insides of the building are dark, the windows covered with growth, the power long dead. We arc up the searchlights on our biosuits, bright beams cutting through the gloom. The place is completely overrun—the floors carpeted in moss, the walls crawling with creepers and sticky flowers.
“Zila, what do we need?” Tyler asks.
The girl shakes her head, looking at Cat. Through the visor of her biosuit, I can see our Ace’s blue eyes are open, eyelashes fluttering. Her skin is covered in sweat. I swear I can see a faint silver sheen on it.
“I am unsure, sir,” Zila replies. “I have never seen symptoms like—”
“Improvise,” he snaps. “You’re my Brain. I need you now.”
“Medical storage,” she says. “I do not know what chemicals they had here, or what will be unspoiled after two centuries. But I may be able to cobble some kind of antibacterial agent or suppressant if we find a supply cache.”
“Right.” Tyler nods. “Let’s move.”
We stalk off through the dark belly of the med center, footsteps squeaking and squishing on the carpet of plant growth. Every surface is covered with it. The heat is oppressive, like the inside of a sauna. I can hear Cat’s shallow breathing, my heart thumping inside my chest. We check room after room, but everything is overgrown, useless, unrecognizable. Vague shapes of maybe-beds and possibly-computers, tiny motes of luminous blue pollen dancing in the air.
Cat reaches up in Tyler’s arms, grabs his shoulder. “Tyler …”
“Cat, you just relax, okay?” he says. “We’re getting you out of this.”
“Y-you …” She shakes her head, swallows hard. “D-don’t under … stand.”
“Cat, honey, please,” I beg. “Try not to talk.”
“I … see,” she whispers.
“What do you see?” Zila asks.
“G-men.” Cat closes those new blue eyes. “C-coming.”
“The shuttle we saw.” Zila looks at Tyler. “Survivors from the Bellerophon.”
“Zila, what’s happening to her?” I ask.
Our Brain’s brow creases in thought, her lips pursed. I can see that genius-level IQ at work behind her eyes. Her detachment bringing a clarity I can only envy. I wonder what it was that made her like this. How she got to be who she became.
After a moment pondering, she turns and fires her disruptor at the wall—when all else fails, stick to what you know, I guess. The blast burns a section of the overgrowth to cinders, the blue-green leaves reduced to ashes. Just like when we killed the chimp-things, the rest of the plant life around us ripples, whispers, shudders. And, my heart sinking in my chest, I see Cat shuddering, too.