Chapter 19

Chapter 18

He half turned to the rest of the group and sighed as the lights cut out again. The attackers must have compromised the power grid.

"Sy, Tor, take point," he barked the order. Scout ahead, make sure the path is clear. And if you see anything that even looks like it might be a threat, take it out—hard and fast."

The two ferals nodded, their expressions grim as they moved to the front of the group, their claws at the ready. Banic turned to the survivors.

"You lot, spread out through the group," he ordered, his voice brooking no argument. "Everyone stay alert, and stay together. We're stronger as a unit."

The survivors nodded, turning to comply with his orders without argument. Beth watched as they fanned out through the group, weapons held tight and their expressions grim and focused.

"Keep the younglings in the center," he called back. "Surround them. For some reason these draanthic want them."

The newcomers nodded and closed ranks around the children, forming a living wall of muscle and weaponry.

Banic's gaze found hers across the crowd, his eyes softening for a second.

"And keep my female in the middle as well," he ordered. "She needs to be kept safe with the younglings."

"Make sure to keep close," she urged, gathering the youngsters around her. They looked dirty and tired, their eyes wide in the darkness, but they clustered around her like chicks around a mother hen. Hard-faced Izaean warriors surrounded them as they started off down the corridor again. Even though they looked like something out of a horror war holo-movie, she was glad they were there. She never wanted to see any of those tusked aliens again as long as she lived. Something was just… wrong about them… something off, and she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

They weren't different in the way the ferals were. Since she'd realized a chimera element was at play and that she might be looking at two distinct species working together in the same body, they didn't seem so odd at all. That wasn't the case with the tusk-faced aliens. Something about the way that they looked. The way that they moved hit her on a visceral level. Something was wrong there. She was missing something, and she hadn't worked it out yet.

The scientist in her wanted to get one of the corpses into the lab, take it apart, and figure out what was going on at the DNA level. They were humanoid but not human. Not Latharian. Not Izaean… nothing that was derived from the same base code as the three different variants were. They were something else. But she also got the feeling they weren't really what she was seeing. She had an odd feeling she couldn't explain. She worried at her lower lip with her teeth, trying to get her thoughts on the matter in order. She would figure it out, eventually. If the aliens didn't kill them first.

"Hey. Hey, come on… keep up," she said as one of the smaller children started to fall behind, his little legs slowing and his steps faltering. He had a large bruise on one cheek and was covered in dirt on one side, as if he'd been thrown against the wall or the floor. The aliens had wanted the children, but they hadn't taken care of them. Several of the youngsters were sporting visible cuts and bruises. She dreaded to think what the aliens had wanted with them. What they had planned to do with them when they got them. What they were doing to the ones they had already taken…

He looked up at her and tried to walk faster, tears welling in his eyes. The sight almost tore her heart right out of her chest.

"Hey… it's okay," she said, slowing down to crouch next to him.

"Come on," the nearest warrior growled. "Keep up."

"Just wait a moment," she snapped back, not intimidated one iota by the berserker. Not after dealing with panic. "Can't you see he's exhausted?"

She turned back to the boy and offered him a smile of encouragement. "What's your name?"

"Trayton," he muttered, rubbing at his eyes with small fists.

"Hey there, Trayton. I'm Beth. I'm kinda tired myself, and I need a big strong Izaean like you to make sure I keep up with the others. Can you do that for me?"

He looked up at her over his fists, and she saw the determination filling his eyes. His spine straightened, and his little chest puffed out with pride.

"Yes. Come on." Reaching out, he slid his hand into hers, and they started to walk. The warrior who had growled at them was just up ahead, turning to look into one of the side corridors and make sure nothing was trying to sneak up on them.

But then, without warning, hard hands grabbed her from behind, bruising her upper arms as she was yanked backward. She collided with something hard, the air knocked out of her lungs. Opening her mouth to scream, the sound was cut off before it could escape when a huge rough hand down over her mouth.

She whimpered in panic as her air was cut off, and she was dragged backward into the darkness.

This was it. This was how she was going to die.

?

Banic's senses were on high alert, his muscles coiled with tension as he stalked through the corridors of the underground complex toward the main hall. The stench of blood and death hung heavily in the air, a cloying, metallic tang that coated the back of his throat. It should have made his stomach churn, but it didn't. Instead, the creature inside him, the one that gloried in chaos and destruction, growled with approval.

His nostrils flared as he stopped at each intersection to scent the air, looking for any hint of the enemy's foul stench. If they only had that to warn them of attack, he was sure as draanth going to take advantage of it.

His head snapped up, his senses stretching out at the sound of movement further down the corridor. Narrowing his eyes, he scanned the darkness for any sign of the enemy. It was second nature to him. Before the mutation had been found in his blood, he'd been training as a krin hunter, his every sense and instinct enhanced to track down and kill the eight-armed, cannibalistic scourge.

He used all those instincts now, holding his fist up to stop the group in their tracks. Motioning to Tor and Sy, he sent them both forward to check. Not only could they see in the darkness, but their feral nature made them hard to kill.

Beside him, Zeke and Kal tensed and raised their weapons. The air crackled with tension, and his claws extended as he braced himself for the attack.

Before either of the ferals could take more than a couple of steps long the corridor, he heard the scrape of boots against stone and the clatter of weaponry. Up ahead, a group of figures emerged out of the darkness. He relaxed. They were Izaean, battered and bloodied but alive.

"Hold!" Banic barked out, stopping Sy and Tor from attacking. "They're friendly!"

The two ferals stopped, but they didn't relax, claws still in plain view as the small group of survivors walked between them. Tor's lips curled back from his teeth silently.

Banic snarled in warning, the sound low and deadly, forcing the youngster to focus on him. He squared up, his body language screaming challenge. It didn't matter that Tor was young; it didn't matter that he'd turned feral mere hours ago... He had to follow orders. Or Banic would have to put him down. They couldn't have an uncontrolled feral in the fortress, not now, not with an unknown enemy on the loose.

Tension crackled in the air as the new group eyed him and the others. The leader of the group, a grizzled veteran with a scar that ran from his brow to his chin, shrugged.

"Ferals? I guess stranger trall has happened," he said, turning to Banic. "This all you got? Where'd you come from?"

"From the labs. You?" Banic demanded, squaring up to the Izaean. Both stopped for a moment as they got each other's measure. The violence in his blood urged him to attack and assert his dominance in bloody and brutal violence. After a moment the other male looked away, backing down.

"Engineering detail," he replied. "At least, me and Renn are." He motioned to a heavyset male to his left. "The rest we picked up on the way."

Banic grunted and swept a critical eye over the new group. "What's the situation? Have you seen anyone from command?"

"Comms are down," the scarred Izaean said, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "We haven't been able to raise anyone on external channels. It's like the whole draanthing planet's gone dark."

He cursed under his breath. If the invaders had managed to take out the command center and cut off all communication with the outside world, they were on their own.

"Comms would've made no difference." Someone from the back piped up. "The aliens were in the corridors before the alarms went off."

Zeke shook his head.

"Not possible. They'd have had to get past the sentries on the surface. What about the main hall?" he asked. "Any word from the defenders there?"

The new group shook their heads. "No word from them at all. But the prince will have holed up there for sure."

One of the previous survivors stepped forward, his head held high despite the exhaustion that lined his face.

"He won't be. Most of the command officers are off the planet," he said. "Prince Isan took the warships to track down a lead on who's been taking the transports. The ones with the younglings that have just been registered with the Izaean mutation."

"But I saw the prince," an Izaean called out from the back of the group. "In the last hour, I swear it!"

Another Izaean, his face marred by a jagged wound that had blinded him in one eye, looked up.

"They can look like us," he rasped, his voice barely above a whisper. "I saw it before..." He gestured to his ruined face. "One of them changed right in front of me, cut me down, left me for dead."

Banic's blood ran cold. Shape-shifters. If the enemy could take on the appearance of anyone, they could infiltrate their ranks with ease.

"Draanth," he growled. "They're impersonating us. That's all we need."

The group shifted uneasily, suspicious glances darting back and forth as they eyed each other.

"How are we going to tell the enemy apart now?" someone asked.

"You don't need to." Banic's lips curled back from his teeth in a snarl as he gestured to himself and the other two ferals. "You can leave that to us. This lot stink so bad, we could scent them from the northern continent if we had to."

A ripple of laughter went through the group, easing the tension a little.

"We need to keep moving," he said. "Get to the main hall and regroup with the others. If we can hold that position, we might have a chance of mounting a counterattack. Stay close, stay sharp, and stay alive."

As they moved out again, he turned to try and catch a glimpse of Beth, to reassure himself that she was safe and sound, but the group had grown too large and she was too small in the press of bodies.

Cursing under his breath, he turned to Kal, pulling the young Izaean aside.

"Kal," he said, his hand gripping the boy's shoulder fiercely. "I need you to do something for me."

Kal nodded. He'd grown up abruptly in the space of an hour. It wasn't a youngling in front of Banic anymore but a warrior. "Anything. What do you need?"

"I need you to go back and check on Beth," he said, his voice low and urgent. "Make sure she's alright, that she's safe."

Kal's brow furrowed, confusion and concern etched onto his features.

"But what about Tor?" he asked, his gaze darting to his friend. "I can't just leave him..."

Banic's gaze flicked to Tor, taking in the feral gleam in the other boy's eyes and the way his claws flexed at his sides, the motion constant. He knew the danger that lurked within the young Izaean and the barely leashed violence that raged beneath his skin, demanding to be free. If Tor lost control, if he gave in to the beast that slumbered within... He would have to stop him. Permanently.

His grip tightened on Kal's shoulder, his gaze boring into the younger male's.

"I'll look after Tor," he said, his voice low and deadly. "You just focus on Beth. Understand?"

Kal hesitated for a moment, torn between his loyalty to his friend and his duty. Then he nodded, his jaw tight with resolve. "I understand."

Banic gave him a curt nod. "Good," he said, releasing his grip on the boy's shoulder. "Now go. And hurry."

Kal melted into the group, and Banic turned his attention back to the path ahead, his mind racing with possibilities and plans even as he kept an eye on Sy and Tor. They were both wildcards, and he wouldn't hesitate to put either of them down if he needed to.

Sy… he would have no problem with. The male was a seasoned warrior, he knew the score, but Tor had been little more than a youngling. Even so, of the two of them, he knew Tor was the more dangerous. No… he had that wrong. The thing inside Tor was more dangerous.

And that worried him more than anything…