Forty-Two
Ryann couldn’t auto-trigger.
The monster wore clothes. She didn’t know why she noticed that, but it looked almost dressed, where the others had simply wrapped torn fabric around themselves. She recognised trousers, and a jacket. It even had a name sewn over the right breast pocket.
The beast fell too fast for Ryann to read it, but she caught a glimpse, and she knew the name.
But that was impossible.
Ryann squeezed the trigger. Tension grew in her finger, and she felt the tiny piece of curved metal move.
She pushed with her lattice, and there was a barrier under the thing’s hide. She’d felt that barrier before.
Then the shade—the infected—was past her, rolling on the ramp before rising again.
The shade that had been attacking from her front was nowhere to be seen, and
