Greg and the others set off down the corridor, a tremendous, marrow-freezing roar suddenly loosed across the base. It was so loud and powerful that it froze everyone in their tracks and cracked several nearby windows.
“What the fucking hell was that?” Carter whispered, the terror obvious in his voice.
“ I heard something like that...back on Dis. Only it wasn't that powerful...I'd always thought it was a Berserker, but maybe it's something more powerful.” Greg murmured.
“ More powerful than a Berserker?” Campbell cried.
“ Yes...let's get the fuck out of here and hope we never have to find out.”
They set off again. Greg made sure to memorize the route through the headquarters and the actual layout of the place to the best of his ability, though he'd snagged an infopad with a map of the base just in case. The squad was silent as they traversed the ruined, derelict corridors of the building, listening to the haunting sounds of its new tenants. Greg tried not to think of whatever might be big enough to roar like that, but the notion wouldn't leave his mind and ideas of its size, shape, and lethality kept forming.
He tried to focus on the mission instead. The part they were looking for was in a storage bay in the first floor of the mining headquarters. The corridors would take them most of the way there, just a few twists and turns, but they had to pass through another warehouse to get to the room they wanted to be in, then they'd have to perform the now familiar process of hunting down a single piece of equipment amidst a field of crates.
Greg studied the others as they kept going. Kyra and Campbell looked solid, though tense, but the others looked shaken up. Even after all they had been through, Greg wasn't sure how much actual combat experience with the Undead Carter or Reed had seen. Thompson's death must be weighing heavily on them.
He understood. Death was pretty terrifying when it was so immediately obvious. It seemed way too easy to die in the situation they were in. One minute, Thompson had been alive, aware and fully functional. The next, he was dead. Just like that. And there was no coming back, no hope of saving him. He was wholly, absolutely gone.
And it could happen to any of them just like that.
Greg was still wrestling with this notion himself. He'd just had a lot more time and practice at keeping it off his mind.
As they navigated the corridors and came to the end of their journey, a new sound came to Greg. It was a curious, wet clicking, almost like some kind of overgrown insect. Greg shuddered at the noise.
“What is that?” Kyra whispered.
“ I have no idea, I've never heard anything like it,” Greg replied softly.
“ Great, another new one? Is that it?” Campbell asked.
“ Possibly. Everyone be ready. God alone knows what the fuck we might be facing this time around,” Greg replied.
They came to the end of the corridor they were in and halted before a large pair of doors that stood between them and the warehouses they needed to be in. Reed knelt by a battered, bloodied control panel and worked at getting the doors opened. Greg felt tense apprehension doing a slow creep up his body.
He studied the corridor they stood in, but it was vacant save for the others and the lonely solitude of corpses.
“ Got it,” Reed murmured.
The doors opened. Greg kept his shotgun tucked up tight against his shoulder, finger inside the trigger guard, ready for anything, as he stepped into the storage bay beyond. The room was a titanic area where every sound echoed and towering stacks of huge, rectangular, gunmetal gray crates hung over them.
There didn't seem to be anything unusual about the bay, and yet...that familiar sense of subtle wrongness of things hiding just of out of sight, lying in wait. The lights weren't that good, little more than distant bulbs high overhead. The dim luminosity created deep nests of shadows around the edges of the room, where anything might lurk.
“
“What the fucking hell was that?” Carter whispered, the terror obvious in his voice.
“ I heard something like that...back on Dis. Only it wasn't that powerful...I'd always thought it was a Berserker, but maybe it's something more powerful.” Greg murmured.
“ More powerful than a Berserker?” Campbell cried.
“ Yes...let's get the fuck out of here and hope we never have to find out.”
They set off again. Greg made sure to memorize the route through the headquarters and the actual layout of the place to the best of his ability, though he'd snagged an infopad with a map of the base just in case. The squad was silent as they traversed the ruined, derelict corridors of the building, listening to the haunting sounds of its new tenants. Greg tried not to think of whatever might be big enough to roar like that, but the notion wouldn't leave his mind and ideas of its size, shape, and lethality kept forming.
He tried to focus on the mission instead. The part they were looking for was in a storage bay in the first floor of the mining headquarters. The corridors would take them most of the way there, just a few twists and turns, but they had to pass through another warehouse to get to the room they wanted to be in, then they'd have to perform the now familiar process of hunting down a single piece of equipment amidst a field of crates.
Greg studied the others as they kept going. Kyra and Campbell looked solid, though tense, but the others looked shaken up. Even after all they had been through, Greg wasn't sure how much actual combat experience with the Undead Carter or Reed had seen. Thompson's death must be weighing heavily on them.
He understood. Death was pretty terrifying when it was so immediately obvious. It seemed way too easy to die in the situation they were in. One minute, Thompson had been alive, aware and fully functional. The next, he was dead. Just like that. And there was no coming back, no hope of saving him. He was wholly, absolutely gone.
And it could happen to any of them just like that.
Greg was still wrestling with this notion himself. He'd just had a lot more time and practice at keeping it off his mind.
As they navigated the corridors and came to the end of their journey, a new sound came to Greg. It was a curious, wet clicking, almost like some kind of overgrown insect. Greg shuddered at the noise.
“What is that?” Kyra whispered.
“ I have no idea, I've never heard anything like it,” Greg replied softly.
“ Great, another new one? Is that it?” Campbell asked.
“ Possibly. Everyone be ready. God alone knows what the fuck we might be facing this time around,” Greg replied.
They came to the end of the corridor they were in and halted before a large pair of doors that stood between them and the warehouses they needed to be in. Reed knelt by a battered, bloodied control panel and worked at getting the doors opened. Greg felt tense apprehension doing a slow creep up his body.
He studied the corridor they stood in, but it was vacant save for the others and the lonely solitude of corpses.
“ Got it,” Reed murmured.
The doors opened. Greg kept his shotgun tucked up tight against his shoulder, finger inside the trigger guard, ready for anything, as he stepped into the storage bay beyond. The room was a titanic area where every sound echoed and towering stacks of huge, rectangular, gunmetal gray crates hung over them.
There didn't seem to be anything unusual about the bay, and yet...that familiar sense of subtle wrongness of things hiding just of out of sight, lying in wait. The lights weren't that good, little more than distant bulbs high overhead. The dim luminosity created deep nests of shadows around the edges of the room, where anything might lurk.
“
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