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process, before he’d thrust it out of range. An earth shattering boom erupted from his right as the stalker skidded backward.
    The shirt that the stalker had been wearing blossomed with red and fell away from Sarah’s shotgun blast. The stalker staggered for a moment, blood splattering the ground as it regained its balance.
    Percival didn’t give it time enough to make a second attack, or to dart off into the darkness once more. He lifted his pistol and fired three shots. New plumes of blood erupted from the beast’s chest from his first two shots while his third put her down for good. Brain matter and blood painted boxes of files.
    Percival glanced down at his leg.
    “Fuck.” His jeans had nice little rips in them. He didn’t feel any pain, but all it would take is a scratch from one of those claws. He dropped to his knee and put his flashlight and gun down. “Light!”
    “Why? Did it…” Sarah trailed off as she panned her light to Percival’s shredded jeans.
    Percival hurriedly yanked his jeans up to the knee, well past where the rips were. He turned and twisted his leg. He didn’t see any sort of wound or blood or angry, red, scratch marks. He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding as he shoved his jeans back down and picked up his gear.
    “I’m fine, no scratches.”
    “Don’t worry me like that!” Sarah looked near the brink of collapse.
    “I don’t intend to do so again,” Percival said.
    “We’ve got trouble,” Evan shouted from down the hall. He and Karl had apparently retreated as Percival checked his leg.
    Percival nodded to Sarah and took off at a jog.
    “What’s wrong?” Percival asked. He could guess, however, since Karl had his hand wrapped around the doorknob and shoulder pressed against the door, holding it shut.
    “Fuckers know how to open doors. Are you?” Karl muttered, bracing the door as a stalker bashed into it.
    “I’m fine, no injury.” Percival looked around. “Find a chair or something to brace the door with.”
    “That won’t keep them from knocking this door in,” Karl said. A bang followed his words as a stalker rammed the door again. “They’re strong too.”
    “Do it,” Percival ordered.
    Evan and Sarah immediately broke from what seemed to be a trance and ran into the next room. Percival jogged back down the hallway and began searching the file room. He shook his head, and frowned. Three rolling chairs and no boxes that seemed heavy enough to brace the door later, he ran back to the door Karl was still bracing.
    Evan brought a spindly, wooden chair.
    Sarah came back with a key. “This came from the office of somebody with the title of ‘Head Accountant.’ Does that door have a lock?”
    “Doubt it’ll hold for terribly long.” Karl shifted so they could see the doorknob. It had a keyhole in the middle of it. “What’re you waiting for?”
    Sarah stepped in and slotted the key into the door. She twisted it and Karl let go of the knob, but kept his shoulder braced against the door.
    “Evan, shove that up under the knob and tell me you two have good news.” Percival pointed at the chair, then at the door.
    “Like what?” Sarah asked.
    Evan shoved the chair’s back under the doorknob and braced it as good as he could.
    “A second exit would be nice to hear about, for starters.” Percival led the way away from the door. The next room was a simple mail room, complete with desk radio and meter machine.
    “There’s two.” Evan pushed past Percival to lead the way.
    Percival didn’t stop him. He followed the youth past cubicles and a couple doors. Everything was nondescript in the twilight created by their swinging flashlights. Tiny offices with computers and sometimes files scattered around them drifted past as Percival moved after Evan at a half run.
    “This is one. It leads back to the front. The other is over there.” Evan pointed down a makeshift hallway created by cubicles and the wall of the building. “That one