Fireteam Delta J. Halpin (top 10 books of all time TXT) 📖

“Then what do we—” Summers stumbled as he spotted Asle running in their direction, coming from the same direction as the gunfire.

She was panting, with tears in her eyes.

“Help . . .”

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Asle told them what happened: Rhodes’s death, the weird, alien creature he’d been keeping, what it had done.

The more she talked, the more certain Summers became that he’d seen this creature she was talking about.

He’d seen it when he’d used the fog.

“We need to get out of here first,” Nowak explained. “If we get to the wall, we can at least get some weapons.”

“Or get the fuck out of here,” Cortez added. “Or both.”

Asle had been near panic as she’d explained what she did, convinced that everything the creature killed was blood on her hands.

That was something they were going to have to deal with later, however.

They heard a scream.

Summers flattened himself against a wall as the body of an elf came barreling down the hallway. A faint crunch punctuated the man’s short flight.

“What in the fuck?” Nowak looked back at the smear that used to be an elf, then to the room in front of them.

It was a massacre. Bodies were smeared against the walls, and piled upon the floor.

And then they saw it. The creature was nearly as big as the room itself, with multi-jointed arms as large as Summers was tall. Currently, it was bent over the body of a guard.

It was eating him, a mouth that seemed to continue well into its chest tearing entire limbs free, swallowing in an instant.

A servant taking cover in a nearby room must have thought the creature was distracted. She burst from her hiding place, heading toward Summers’ group.

One of its hands lifted almost lazily, moving to swat the woman.

Summers grabbed the spear of a dead guard at his feet. The creature hadn’t so much as looked in their direction before the projectile slammed through its chest, pinning it to the wall for just an instant.

The thing screeched with a primal ferocity, clawing at the shaft of the spear with six pairs of hands.

“Huh . . .” Summers stared blankly ahead as the woman ran screaming past them.

At some point, Cortez must have found a gun. A grenade impacted with the creature’s chest, blinding Summers for an instant and turning a substantial part of the monster into a smear on the ceiling.

Nowak and Logan soon followed, firing at a second head Summers hadn’t even noticed. A long arm shot out, swatting at the group. Summers moved to catch it, only to be slammed into the opposite wall. He felt his breath pushed out of him as a shelf crashed into his back.

He recovered long enough to feel the arm in his grip snap in two. He tore, and the creature screamed once again.

This time, it didn’t charge them. Limbs—entire sections of the creature—fell with the sound of wet meat hitting stone, squirming through the newly made hole in the wall.

It ran, leaving parts of itself behind.

The group just stared at the chaos left in its wake, the sound of distant crashing becoming faint.

“What in the fuck was that?” Summers looked to the others.

“Hamr,” Asle answered, eyes wide.

Cortez leaned down, unstrapping equipment from a guard dead at her feet.

Summers recognized the man as one who’d been in his squad for the first few days.

He’d never bothered to memorize his name.

“What do we do now?” Cortez looked to Nowak.

“I . . .” Nowak started, then swallowed. “I’ll be honest with you. I have no fucking idea. We can’t make it out of the city like this, guns or not. There’s an army outside, and whatever the hell that thing is inside. So, open for suggestions.”

Before they could answer, Summers heard something coming their way. Footsteps. A lot of them.

“Shit.” He looked to the others. “We got company.”

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Summers watched as Nisha approached, a small contingent of guards in tow. More than a few were injured, and Nisha herself looked to be bleeding from an eye.

She seemed surprised to find four rifles trained on her.

None of them had forgotten whose loyalties she’d chosen, or that she’d held them prisoner, twice. And so, they’d decided they were done taking chances.

“Was this your doing?” Nisha glanced down at their weapons. “Did you release this . . . thing?”

“I’m done playing,” Summers responded. “If you people want to do us harm, then we can end this right here and now.”

Nisha hesitated for only a moment before speaking to the guards at her side. Summers saw their hands twitch for their weapons for just an instant before—

“Wait.” Logan held up a hand. The man hadn’t found a gun. Instead, he walked forward, hands raised. His prosthetic tapped against the ground with every step. “We don’t need to fight, not now.”

Summers’ grip on his gun only tightened.

Logan noticed, looking him in the eye. “Is this really how you want to do things?”

Summers thought about that. There was fear in the guards’ eyes; they watched Summers as someone would watch a predator.

He could smell their blood, could feel the deep, gnawing hunger he’d pushed down.

He wondered how much it affected his thinking.

“Do you know what that thing is?” Summers watched the guards carefully, just in case one of them got any ideas.

“I know it can kill every man, woman, and child in the city. I’ve seen it happen,” Nisha responded. “Just leave . . . please.” She looked at them, her eyes pleading.

Summers considered that for a long moment before lowering his weapon. Truth be told, he was tired, the city had done no favors for him, and he desperately wanted to just sleep this all off like a bad dream.

But there