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I turned and sprinted like the dogs of hell were on my heels.

Seconds, I told myself. You have seconds before not one, but four Lestrium canisters go off.

The jungle line was in front of me. With every step, I got closer. A passing thought yelled at me. I put my gloved hands behind my head to shield me from the blast.

BOOM!

The canisters exploded in a wall of heat. For the second time in as many days, I was picked up off my feet and hurled forward. I could feel the heat touch my armor. The back of my head and neck not covered by the gloves I wore blistered.

As luck would have it, my landing pad was a thick tree trunk two meters in front of me. I flew through the air like some superhero still learning to fly. I struck the trunk of the tree with a thunk.

I fell backward, staring up at the night sky. At least I hadn’t lost consciousness this time. I couldn’t breathe. The blow from the tree, even with my armor on, felt like a punch in the gut from a heavyweight gladiator.

I lay on my back, just laboring to breathe.

Mutt appeared over me. He looked down at me, cocking his head to the side as if to say, “What are you doing? This isn’t the time or place for a nap.”

I didn’t have the oxygen to say something sarcastic back.

Get up, Dean, I said in my head. At least I thought it was my own voice. The tone in my head sounded very much like Natalie. Get back up.

I rose to my feet, testing my aching body. Oxygen was being forced into my lungs again. The back of my head and neck felt like they were on fire. The good news was my legs still worked, and that meant I could run.

I looked out at the beach in front of me. It was littered with dead and dying bodies. The infected still able to walk did so in my direction. I didn’t know how many were still left, but with a quick count, I saw there were dozens, too many for me to make a final stand against.

I hope I bought you enough time, I thought to myself, understanding all these events had probably only taken ten to fifteen minutes to pass. I can buy you a few more.

I wanted to give Boss Creed at least a twenty-minute head start to figure out how to power the crawler. I could buy him another five minutes, I hoped.

“I don’t even really know your name,” I shouted. I made sure my back was to the tree. At least they could only come at me from three ways now. “You were saying ‘we’ a lot when we were chatting. Should I call you ‘we’”?

To my left, a young man in his early twenties stepped out of the shadows.

Mutt’s hackles rose on the back of his neck. He lowered to the ground, ready to pounce.

“We are called by a name that your kind have no words for.” The man took a step closer. The light of the fire showed the same black inky veins on his face. “Legion would be the closest word for what we are.”

“And you’re some kind of plant or spore that infects its host?” I asked, trying to put rational thinking behind the nightmare I found myself in. “Like a parasite?”

“Nothing like a parasite.” The young man chuckled. “We have more of a symbiotic relationship. We were dormant, asleep until your kind invaded our planet. When we woke, we were overjoyed to find your kind provided the perfect vehicle for us.”

As we spoke, I noticed more and more of the infected coming out of the shadows. Just like I was using this conversation to buy more time, Legion was doing the same. In minutes, I would be completely surrounded with no chance to escape.

“You will all fall victim to us when we introduce you to the spore,” Legion went on. “You will all eventually be brought into the—”

I had enough of his talk and I sure wasn’t going to allow myself to get hedged in. I lunged forward with my left fist, planting a punch to his face that sent the knife on the back of my hand into his right eye. The blade sank deep. He quivered then fell to the ground.

The infected around us sprinted forward.

Mutt went to work ripping out throats and snarling like an animal possessed.

For whatever reason, whether they didn’t deem him a threat or realized if they killed me, he would go, they ignored Mutt and focused on me.

I sidestepped the first infected that lunged at me, sending my right fist into the face of the next infected so fast I broke his nose before he knew what was happening.

The knife on the back of my left hand worked better than I thought. I slashed out left and right, aiming for vital organs and killing shots that would put them down for the count.

I know it doesn’t sound like a long time, but anyone who’s been in the ring, or any fight really, will tell you even a few minutes of nonstop fighting is exhausting, and I was out of shape.

I fought, always giving ground to the superior numbered force in front of me. I retreated where I had to, struck out as much as I could.

“Mutt!” I yelled. “Let’s go!”

I turned from fending off my attackers and bolted into the jungle. To say I was tired would be an understatement to how I really felt. My body felt like a punching bag after a long day at the gym. The back of my head and neck burned along with my lungs. Trying to see anything past a few meters in front of me in the jungle was pointless.

I used what little light came through the thick jungle canopy to guide myself as I recalled David’s instructions.

What if you didn’t give them enough time? The voice in

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