Theseus took another step back, bile rising in his throat. His stomach was too weak for this sort of shit. The blubbering mass of hissing, dripping flesh heaved and pulsated in the circle as if someone had tried to mould a beating heart from living bodies. Rogue limbs protruded from the surface next to stretched faces, mouths caught in perpetual moans, eyeless sockets dripping grey brain-matter. In one place it looked as if the collected innards formed an obscene mouth, lips quivering. When they parted in a toothless, fleshy roar that sounded like a chorus of Hell, Theseus could no longer hold back and stumbled against the nearest wall, retching. Before he’d even had the chance to gasp for breath he felt a tugging at his shoulder, and found himself praying it wasn’t one of those twisted limbs reaching out to drag him into the bloody orgy.

“W-we’ve gotta get out of here,” said John, his voice a trembling whimper. The others had already made their flight into the labyrinth, untouched by the same paralysis of guilt that gripped Theseus’s limbs like a thick swamp. He could have stopped this.

Ms Anderson stood by the arched entryway, loading some bullets into her archaic revolver with a strange calm, almost as if she were used to things like this. Theseus pushed himself away from the vomit-stained wall, choked back further bile, and stumbled towards her, secretly ashamed of his cowardice. His teacher was only four years his senior.

As they approached she cocked her gun and fired two shots towards the monster, handling the weapon like a natural sharpshooter. Theseus couldn’t help his eyes wandering to the pouch of bullets by her side. If she’d had ammunition, why hadn’t she used it earlier? Why had Faye insisted he do the killing? Ms Anderson must have noticed his gaze.

“I’ve run out of ordinary slugs,” she explained, the usual singsong happiness is her voice dimmed by the sombre situation, “Those ones just now were magical. They’ll stop that thing from doing much – for a minute or two at least. We should get moving,”

As if to urge him onwards, the chamber shook with another gurgling wail. Further explanations could wait.

Gibson, Byrne and Katrina were a short distance ahead, waiting around a turning in the maze for their fellow students. Joel’s fractured wrist was held up in his damp shirt, his guitar-sword held tight in his free hand. Katrina had, for the first time since they’d met that evening, put her camera away. Lyra, still pale and dark-eyed from exertion, looked to be running on adrenaline alone.

“Phoe and the others are getting the captives out,” explained Katrina, “Faye said we should split up. Act as…” She trembled with fear, her cheeks still wet with tears over her first kill. Theseus didn’t need her to finish. He knew what had been asked of them, and he didn’t like it.

“What the hell’re we doing?” he said, as much to himself as anyone else.

“Getting used by higher powers,” said a droll Lyra, “You got a better plan?”

Theseus looked at John, who shrugged, then down at the loyal robot standing oblivious at their feet. Its back was still open, displaying the array of weapon supplies inside, from the RPG launcher to the plasma cannon and a variety of laser-trip traps they’d salvaged from the tunnels.

“You think it’ll cut it?” asked John.

“You think I have a clue?”

Chapter 54
Previous / Continue
(page 1; 2; 3; 4; 5; 6; 7; 8; 9; 10)