Instinct: A Chess Team Adventure - By Jeremy Robinson Page 0,70

before.

“Great,” Rook said, heading for the open doorway, keeping watch in all directions. He could see them now, faintly in the green glow of the chamber, moving in and out between bone huts: climbing roofs, scaling walls, advancing like a horde of mutant ninjas. But he held his fire. Missing was not an option. The killing would be up close and personal. Damn, I wish Queen were here, he thought.

Rook reached the darkened doorway and cast his penlight inside, moving it side to side. The hallway stretched on beyond the reach of his light but two positive things stuck out. First, the grade of the hallway moved up. Up was good. Second, he didn’t see any yellow eyes or orange fur.

A roar turned Rook around. The creatures emerged into the open one by one; their bodies, short but massive, made them look like hellish imps in the green glow.

Bishop leaned Somi against the edge of the doorway and joined Rook. Twenty of the creatures stood around them in a semicircle, rocking on their heels, waiting. “Not good.”

Rook looked back at Somi. “Go ahead. Get the hell out of here. We’ll catch up.”

“No,” Somi said, standing. With her energy flowing from her body along with her blood from the deep leg wound, she wasn’t going anywhere . . . not fast enough, anyway. She hobbled up next to Rook and looked at the waiting gang. “Give me your gun and go.”

Rook scoffed. “First Knight and now you? He will get out of here in one piece. You’ll be torn to shreds. Now get—”

Somi began pulling down her pants on one side.

“What the hell, Somi, you—”

Rook froze when he saw a brand marking her thigh, a star with a skull at its center.

“I led them to you,” Somi said. “I let them take Sara.” Somi looked down at the knife wound. “This was my reward. They bought me with my father’s love, then my silence with a knife.”

Rook’s face turned bright red. Few things stung a soldier more than betrayal.

“Rook,” Bishop said, his voice tinged with concern. “They’re coming.”

The half circle closed in slowly. The creatures meant to overwhelm them, give them too many targets . . . but they were still wary of the guns. They had to know some of them would die. What were they after that they would risk their lives to get? It couldn’t be food. They had plenty hanging in their meat locker.

Then it occurred to Rook. The one that had attacked from above and torn open Somi’s leg could have easily taken off his head instead. But it chose to attack her first. Looking at their bodies closely, Rook saw that they were all females.

Oh, hell, Rook thought. They were after him and Bishop. And they wanted them alive.

He stepped back, away from Somi. “Bish, time to fall back.” Bishop stepped back and the creatures started growling loudly. Some began to hoot.

Somi stood limply in front of them, facing off against twenty of the creatures. She looked back at Rook, guilt washing over her. He’d kept his gun, and for good reason. Why would he trust her after what she’d revealed? She was his enemy. As Rook’s and Bishop’s bodies slid into the darkness, Somi said, “You’re a good soldier, Rook.”

Rook didn’t reply, but a moment later a single Desert Eagle slid out of the dark and bumped against her foot. She reached down to pick it up as the creatures flew into a flurry of activity. Some beat their chests, angered by the men’s disappearance. Others paced anxiously. And then, as Somi stood again, Desert Eagle in hand, one of them charged. Somi fired two shots. It fell at her feet. Two more charged, their screams issuing forth as much spittle as volume. Somi dropped the first and jumped to the side as the second attacked. It bit into her leg before Somi shot a point-blank .50-caliber bullet into the side of its head. The creature’s skull exploded, but its teeth remained buried in her leg.

Somi didn’t wait for any more attacks. The creatures were close enough. She opened fire, squeezing the trigger four more times, killing two more of the creatures, leaving fifteen very pissed, very unsure beasts left standing. Then came the click.

Out of ammo.

The creatures were smart enough to realize this, too. All at once they raised their hackles, roared, and pounded toward her. Somi waited for them, standing still, clutching the handle of the knife in her belt—the source of