“Tanks?” Zorn asked.
“No. Tank. Singular. It’s our people, Zorn. They came through for us! The Ton is here!”
He opened the door a crack and looked out into the hall.
“Coast is clear.”
They tiptoed out of their torture chamber, making sure to drag Tre’s body into the hall, a tempting morsel for any beast that might try to follow them. The wing in which they found themselves was unfamiliar, but the sound of the battle gave them a beacon to follow. They turned at random, heading ever towards it, hearts pounding down empty corridor upon empty corridor, until they finally turned a corner and skidded to a halt behind a group of the monsters busily munching on a body. Shawn, or thing that used to be him, was there, the butcher’s knife still sticking out of its back.
“Just back away,” Topher
