CHAPTER TEXT

My theory turned out to be true. Something about having Isra so close by my side, maybe even just the weighty pressure or the consistent warmth we shared, had somehow suppressed any unwelcome dreams during that night. The rhythmic rising of her massive body, the hard but smooth scales against my skin, all combined into a mixture that sent me into a deep, comfortable sleep. Sure, a tint of lasting fear managed to get ahold of me when she initially began to encircle me but one look into her sky-blue eyes exorcised this caution in an instant and I leaned back against the surprisingly soft muscle of her tail.

I awoke in the same, reflecting warmth that had lulled me to sleep. There was no tension in my body, my eyes didn’t frantically scan around for threats, I was...relaxed. It’s been a while since I could have truly said that. I felt almost lighter, my thoughts acting more organized and coherent.

My vision caught the signs of early sun and cold air sneaked through the coils. I suppressed a shiver and groggily blinked my way back into reality. And that reality was Isra’s face laying directly next to mine, atop the coils on my chest. The line of her jaw, which ran all the way to the end of her cheeks, twitched slightly and I felt the viper squeeze in random intervals around my leg. Sure, it was still strange, this enormous alien sleeping so peacefully and using me as a makeshift pillow. But she was warm, I enjoyed the feeling of her scales slowly shifting against me, and we had both admitted caring for one another just hours ago.

Yet I still didn’t fully understand how I could - or if I should - proceed. I liked her, more than any human I can think of but what did that truly mean? Allies of circumstance, definitely. Companions for the time being, perhaps. Friends? She must understand the concept of friendship, that much she had implied. But would it end there?

A question I had refused to ask myself up until now. Was I scared of an answer or did I just already know it and was too scared to admit it? Because, in truth, I cared for her more than I would for a friend. She meant a lot more and I could no longer envision a life without her by my side. And not just out of curiosity of her nature and what she truly was. I just liked being with her. The only person I’ve been able to tell about my past, admit my fears to, be open with. I couldn’t let her go.

Her scales rustled my clothing and she drew a deep inhale through her nose, which sounded far too similar to someone pretending to hiss. I looked down and saw her eyelids stammer open, the blue color peaked from beneath them, and her otherwise long, slitted pupils looked massive for a second or so. The black line looked more akin to a human’s pupil, reflecting my own visage back at me. But only for a tiny moment. Quickly, it pulled in length and became the familiar, reptilian slit once again.

“Mornin’,” I smiled at her as she lifted her head above me.

“How long have you been up?” She asked, her voice sounding somewhat deeper, more throaty.

“A few minutes.”

“And you’ve just been laying there? Or couldn’t you move, I’m sorry,” her eyes went wide in an instance and I felt a lot of weight lifting from my body.

“No, no, it’s fine,” I said quickly but it was too late and the undeniably comfortable snake-blanket was pulled from me.

She unwrapped from my torso, peeled off of my leg, and untied the loose coils all around me. All parts moving independently, she slithered away from me and rested against one of the many intertwining roots. I leaned back on my arms and just sat, as the cold air was finally able to get to my entire body, sending goosebumps over my skin, making my hair stand up.

“Are you still cold?” Isra asked with a sideways expression.

I shivered, “A little, but my clothes aren’t wet anymore. You’re pretty comfortable to sleep on,” I chuckled a little.

She looked down and her hood twitched slightly at its peak. “Thanks, you’re warm and soft, too.”

“Soft?” I raised an eyebrow.

“When sleeping, yes. Your hair also feels...strange against my scales. Strange but nice.” The long line of her jaw pulled up and revealed the pink gums of her mouth.

“The more often I see you smile, the more I like it.”

Her eyes went wide and she flicked between my eyes, her tongue slipping out at a rapid pace. The smile pulled wider - cute.

Before I could continue to admire the serpent, a deep, drawn-out yawn interrupted me. I felt my jaw almost dislocate and had to squint. But, through my half-closed eyes, I saw a sight I hadn’t expected. Isra was yawning as well.

Now, her mouth was obviously much bigger than mine but this was the first time I had seen her make complete use of it. And the comparisons with earth’s snakes only continued to grow, as her jaw fully unhinged, safe for the very back of her face where a purple bit of sinuous flesh connected the lower half, which now hung almost down to her neck, to its top. The small teeth, shorter than mine, only sharper and pointy, that I had spotted while she ate, lined the edges of her maw, stopping only at the front to let the tongue slither unimpeded.

Overall, the color was similar to the edges of her gums, though slightly more pinkish in hue. The bottom still had that sheath - her Orla as explained - though I could see now what it looked like with her tongue outside of it, as the flat tip floated in the empty space. Both in the roof of her mouth and in fleshy pockets at the bottom, I saw the tips of white fangs, peeking out. They moved slightly as if shivering but never showed their true length. The dislodged bottom pulled at its edges and shifted as if there were no bones present.

It was a little creepy, sure. But also amusing and intriguing to look at. Amusing because it came from the fact that she probably yawned because I did so first. And intriguing because it was a gesture I had associated with only humans; never had I expected such a mannerism to carry over, no, not carried over instead, exist independently in a species unrelated to anything human.

But, before I could continue to stare into her wide-open maw, she pulled it back up and seemed to smack her thin lips. Her eyes, which had closed during her deflating yawn, fluttered back open, looking at me with a curious expression. Her head leaned to the side.

“Something funny?” She asked a little bit of joking offense in her voice.

“Never seen a snake yawning out of empathy,” I replied with a scoff.

“Empathy, I learned about that, it’s been a while though.”

“What did you learn about it?” I crossed my arms over my chest.

“The sectoids. When Advent conquered their planet, inhabited with beings capable of producing strong, natural psionic energy, it was first put into my mind. There, the network was always active and strong, to protect us from their mental attacks. And in turn, to defend ourselves, we learned their weaknesses. Empathy works to unionize, to band under commonalities like suffering or motivation. It’s something beings of decent intelligence seem to possess but it isn’t very common among units, the faceless, for example, don’t.” Her eyes wander upward and she speaks in a fluent tonality.

“Huh, so that knowledge also transfers to humans?” I surmised.

“Mostly, yes. The elders see it as an exploitable weakness. Strategies included sending in covert units to gather sympathies and help topple whatever social hierarchy was in place without struggle. The sectoids were, like many others including humans, not willing to give up without a fight.”

“Did they do better or worse than us?” I ask in an entertained manner.

“Better in terms of longevity, “she responded in a similar tone. “But they didn’t resist afterward, they assimilated far quicker than humans. But their planet was a lot more hostile than earth, dangerous light from above, thanks to a supercritical sun, cooked things alive if they tried to leave the atmosphere. They had little technology but tapped into psionic energy to progress instead, they couldn’t have left their planet in the foreseeable future either. Maybe they wanted to join Advent with the promise of space-faring, I know it was an allure for my species.”

“You left your planet because you wanted to explore?” I asked with a curious expression.

“It was mostly because our brood mothers agreed to it and no one questioned their orders. I suspect they were influenced by psionics but that’s beside the point. I wanted to see the stars, closer. It was enchanting, watching them pass, seeing what a galaxy looked like for the first time, observing the stars that floated around our sun from a spaceship was beyond my imagination. It was impossibly beautiful. But it was ripped from me.” Regret sounded in her voice, sorrowful remembrance.

“How long did it take before you were put into this psionic network?” I pushed a little further, infatuated with her tale.

“I measured time differently back then. Our way of keeping track of things revolved around the rotations our stars made around our sun,” she explained, returning to a more enthusiastic tone, before turning inward again. “I don’t know how long I spent with Advent before I stopped thinking. If I remember, I will tell you.”

“Stars visible enough to count rotations on,” I lean my head back and imagine the scene of a clear sky, the sun a little bigger, and two glowing orbs rotating around it. “That sounds nice.”

“It was. I dreamed of it again, I almost want to go back to sleep for that.” I hear the smile in her voice.

“Almost?” I look back at her.

“I don’t think I’d like it anymore.”

I wrinkle my brow, the question is already obvious. “Why?”

“Earth is...more alive. It’s not land my species is adapted to conquer, it exists outside of everything. It’s an enclosed circle and just...exists. I find that far prettier than the endless vastness of my old world,” she preached, her voice sounding hopeful, yet an underlying somberness influenced her speech.

“I wouldn’t mind seeing your planet, it sounds exotic, nice,” I said while still deep in thought.

My stomach growled and we were ripped from our train of thought, both realizing how hungry we were.

“You said you can hunt, wanna put that to the test?” I challenged.

Her eyes glimmered and her posture shifted around. “Of course. I can do so while you travel and I'll return when I find something.”

“Because I’m that slow?” I asked sarcastically and rose to a crouched position, using the roots around me as support.

“Yes,” came from Isra, showing no sign that she caught my tonality.

I rolled my eyes and huffed. Then pulled my way through a gap in the roots where we had come in. I emerged into an overcast sky. The light was mute and had no distinct direction of origin. Rather, the clouds formed one continuous ceiling of light-grey colors. No shapes, only tiny trails that dipped lower, and the only indication that it was morning rather than evening was a glowing spot behind me.

“These trees, I don’t believe they are native to earth, do you know what they are?” Isra asked and slithered with great elegance and swiftness through gaps in the roots, that looked far too thin for her wide body.

“They’re not, a side-effect of certain chemicals in cities and mutations in the genome made a lot of new species. The whisps and these ones, which we call snake trees, are a few examples. But it’s also changed normal trees, like pines, making them bigger and changing the seasons they thrive in. Animals have been affected, too,” I explained while balancing over the brown bark.

“Advent kept preaching that nature was recovering under their rule, that they saved the planet. I never understood that,” Isra spoke absentmindedly.

“Humans don’t have the best track record of keeping nature in a good state. Our use of fuel and other energies caused the ocean to be filled with waste and dangerous substances and people kept throwing trash wherever they wanted. Add rapid deforestation to that and you’ve got maybe a few more decades until we would have destroyed ourselves,” I scoffed.

“Why did humans do that?” I heard the confusion in her voice.

I shrugged. “Because we could. Because we put humans in the position to say ‘hey, this is enough,’ but they never acted on that. We tried to put regulations in place but they weren’t enforced, well, not really.”

“Humanity is a strange civilization. You are smart in theoretical sciences and have a long history of steady development. But are also on the lower scale of technological advancements. You were only at the beginning stages of space travel, your medicine had many faults, and your history is filled with wars against one another. Your race was too busy fighting amongst each other than be concerned with expanding.”

“Yeah, you hit the nail on the head. But that’s what we’ve done for centuries, I think people just forgot it could be different;” my tone turned somber.

“Stop,” Isra suddenly stood completely still and put an arm across my chest to halt me as well.

I immediately halted and held my breath for a moment. Her flat tongue tip snaked out of the slit in her lips, then zipped up and down rapidly for a split second. A tiny bit of micro emotion pulled at her cheeks. On that note, micro emotion was hard to spot on her otherwise still scales, so I had started paying much more attention to her lips, hood, and eyes.

“I smell something, an animal,” she stared in the direction of a thick bush, though I couldn’t see anything. Her eyes looked wide, her tongue continued to lap up scents, and her hood twitched with seeming excitement.

“The town is maybe half an hour further away. I’ll continue to walk and you can go take care of it.”

“Alright,” Isra nodded and swiftly dropped to the floor. Despite the massive frame and thick coils, she made only the faintest of rustling noises as she disappeared into the underbrush. I watched the tip of her brownish tail vanish and the sounds of her movement fade out.

I continued to walk, being a little more careful to not make too much of a tumult. Walking still wasn’t entirely pain-free, climbing overtop branches, and pushing through clinging thorns cost more effort than I let on. The fog of early morning condensation covered many of the sights and even obscured the skyscraper-like trees above me. The bases of these were thick and their bark looked almost like dried out mud, with the lowest branches easily a few dozen meters from the ground.

Walking alone through the forest brought back tiny flashes of memories, those of my escape into the forest thirteen years ago. I discarded my gear during my walk, tore away the insignia of my old life, threw down what connected me to it. And yet, I still felt the same. I still felt like I was that person, one who would kill without regard, abuse my knowledge of human communication to my advantage. Back then, it was useful for survival. But now I feared what would happen if I were to slip back into that mindset. Because that man would destroy whatever I had or could have with Isra.

I heard rustling and a familiar slithering sound, that of shifting scales. I turned over my shoulder and spotted the pattern of beige, yellow, and brown, along with the deep, blue eyes. She rose from her lowered position, a sight even closer to the movements of a snake, as her upper body now replicated the winding movements. When she did, I saw that she carried a fuzzy, brown-pelted animal. Its size was reminiscent of a smaller dog, not anywhere near what you could have expected from a regular rabbit. But its long ears, short snout, and springy legs assured me that this was probably just another effect of the aliens’ presence.

“Damn, nice catch,” I complimented her.

I looked a little closer and spotted four holes in the mammal’s neck, red color mixing into the ruffled fur.

“Thank you, they were not very fast.” She placed the corpse on a flat part of the ground.

“You found more?” I asked and lean against a tree.

“Yes, three. I ate two already,” she explained. “This one’s for you.”

I caught a glance downward and make out a small bulge on her tail, a meter or so below her waist.

“Well, that’s nice and I appreciate it. The only problem is that I can’t eat raw meat,” I admitted, looking down at the rabbit.

I saw her features drop a little, realizing the mistake she’d made. “And we can’t make a fire to cook it,” she exclaimed in frustration.

“It’s fine, once we get to the town, fire won’t be much of a problem. We can just cook it there,” I assured her.

True, the remaining journey would have only taken about thirty minutes. But it didn’t, of course. Thanks to my inability to keep a steady pace, my chest refusing to expand without pain, and the constantly shifting terrain, it took about an hour. The clouds above continued their endless wall of white color that hurt to look at for too long. Isra seemed content with slithering next to me, despite my speed, just shifting her vision around the area, surveying for any interesting sights.

The environment’s plants slowly sifted out and the trees became pines once more. The ground was covered in short grass, beneath which lay simple dirt. A short bit of elevation brought us to a hilltop, from which we could oversee what laid in front of us.

Just as Isra had said, the town was completely taken over by nature. The town, whose name was plastered onto a yellow sign, looked to be a rural, residential area. Only three or four buildings even reached past the height of the trees that grew amongst the concrete roads. Like massive webs from spiders, cracks ran along the long discolored and splintered road, cars stood still on the side, all looked to be destroyed. I spotted a supermarket, many houses that harbored a few apartments, all of which had shattered windows and vines climbing up the side of them.

Some had collapsed and displayed the insides, most of which only carried destroyed furniture and yellowing walls. The skylight to one of the stores, which had an incomplete and falling apart sign, labeling it as some sort of building supply, was also busted open. The side of the building was entirely overgrown, green leaves from many different plants, that used this structure as support, covered the otherwise open shopping windows. All being fairly close together, I could envision a path to possibly get on top of it.

The bigger buildings looked to be residential, one holding onto the, long powered down, neon letters of M and t, with enough space to make out the word of motel. Another appeared to be the ruins of a school or university, more wide than long, with the many dorms and classrooms laying open for display through opened walls and ceilings. I saw the thick trees, their tops lined with many leaves, that took over the building’s roofs but didn’t recognize what species they belonged to.

“Where do you suggest we go?” Isra asked after a moment of us both assessing the sight to our front.

“I’d like to see if there’s anything useful left in those stores down there,” I motioned to a street that was lined with a few more buildings that looked to contain shopping fronts.

“How much time do you think we have to prepare before they get here?”

“I doubt we have more than a day at most. But they’re cocky, they know we’re unarmed, meaning they’ll be predictable. We just need to find a spot to hold on in and pick them off, take their guns and fight back.”

She took the plan in for a moment, then tasted the air. “I don’t smell any humans around here, we’re alone.”

“Good, then let’s go.”

Our first destination was the supply store, a faded bit of decor, displaying a hammer and a wrench, marketed this as some home improvement store. The automatic glass doors were stuck in the middle of their final opening, a few splintered remnants of glass hanging in the frame. I climbed through the gap in between and Isra was forced to push it open further.

A broken tube light hung from the ceiling, shelves were upturned and emptied, and foliage grew in almost every corner, blurring the line between the tiled flooring and the grass outside. The register was busted open, though I saw little reason for people to have stolen money. I perused the separate corridors, the shelves at about head level, and inspected the remnants of the shop’s wares.

I didn’t find much, but also a lot, considering the fact that it had been open to raiders for the past decade. In total, I gathered two packets of nails, a half-used tape cutter, its blade a rusty piece of thin metal, and a lighter. I flicked the ignition and a few sparks fluttered out, though the tank seemed empty and refused to ignite.

“This room is locked,” Isra noted and I rounded a corner to see her at a metal door. The sign read ‘employees only.’

“Let’s see what they got in there,” I approached the door.

Sadly, without my lockpicking set, this would be difficult. I kneeled down and checked the lock and handle, wiggled it a few times, then pushed against the door experimentally. The hinges didn’t give one bit but the handle seemed somewhat unstable. I looked closer and found the cause, one of the screws that held it in place wasn’t entirely in.

“We can maybe get this open if we find something solid enough to use as a screwdriver,” I said and turned back around, hoping to find that something in just a quick glance.

“That knife doesn’t work for that?” Isra asked and pointed to the box cutter in my pocket.

“These blades are thin and designed to snap off when they get dull. This one’s already almost done for, I doubt it would survive the pressure,” I explained.

“Hmm,” the viper mused and looked to the ceiling. “Oh, wait -” she announced and lowered herself with the lock, extending one hand. She folded her fingers except for the one next to her thumb and put the long, black claw into the middle of the star-shaped screw. I didn’t think it would work but that was quickly proven false and I watched with an impressed expression as she turned her finger over and over again. Eventually, the metal was winded out far enough to be grabbed and she pulled it out, holding it up demonstratively.

“Well done,” I commented and began pulling the handle off.

Without the second lock attached, the hinges proved more fragile. “Can you try hitting it with your tail?”

Isra motioned for me to get out of the way and I stepped back. She positioned herself sideways, pulled her tail closer, and, snapping like a whip of pure muscle, slammed against the door. It resounded in a bending crack, as the door bent inward first and snapped from its frame entirely the next second, landing inside the small storage room.

An old computer sat atop a desk and chair. Dust lined the interior and spider webs hung from the ceiling, no one had been in here for quite some time. An old uniform, its yellow and red colors having faded long ago, hung from the backrest of the chair.

“I wonder if we could get that thing powered,” I mused and entered the room, just pushing on the power button out of curiosity.

“Unlikely, the power lines outside are broken on many occasions,” Isra shot the idea down.

I went through the jacket’s pocket and found an old packet of gum, while Isra pulled open cabinets. Papers flew across the room as we turned the room upside down in search of anything useful. And we eventually found something, a map.

It lined out the city’s road, houses, and even underground trains.

“This could be important,” I commented and inspected the slightly yellowing and crumpled paper.

“If this map is accurate, we could use it to set our ambush in strategic positions,” Isra suggested, her eyes flying over the colorful outlines.

“Definitely. This street for example. If we set up some sort of distraction for them, we could funnel them into a chokepoint. Depending on the things we find, this could work to separate them.”

With the supplies in pocket, we scavenged the next stores. First up was a simple convenience store. Of course, all the food items had either been taken or expired. I checked behind the counter, hoping to find perhaps a firearm there but found nothing of the sort. This one had a secondary storage room, which was already unlocked. I peeked inside and immediately caught the shiny reflectivity of glass. I rummaged through an old cabinet and found a silvern bottle with fogged glass, vodka.

I grabbed it and headed back out, finding Isra looking at a propped-up sign, advertising hot dogs for one dollar. She glanced down at my hand and raised a curious eyebrow at the bottle.

“What’s that for, smells awful.”

“Alcohol, it’ll be useful for cleaning wounds, but I think this one could also ignite. And for a little afterward,” I chuckled to myself.

I saw an idea flash across her mind but she didn’t speak it out loud.

Lastly, we climbed through the busted window of an otherwise sealed building. From the outside, it looked more akin to residential housing. But Isra insisted that she smelled something inside. It turned out to be some sort of animal or pet shop. A line of freezers occupied most of the smaller space, the contents seemed long thawed. Meats, bird seeds, and similar canned food appeared strewn about, none were of real interest. But I spotted a leash, one that could extend out of a plastic handle. I took that.

“That should be all,” I concluded. “Now to find shelter and then we move on to setting up.”

“The school, it’s big enough to at least have some rooms that should be intact. And it’s far enough up to have a vantage point,” Isra suggested as we stepped back out into the street.

I agreed with her and we walked to the abandoned building. While on the road, I looked through busted windows of cars, carefully eyed the many places one could have taken cover in, and saw Isra tasting the air frequently. I trusted her senses but still found myself unable to let my instincts rest.

The building, at least from a bird’s eye view, was of square construction. A courtyard lay in the middle, fences, that used to contain a small park, had been ripped out or consumed by wild plants. We entered beneath into the middle through a long corridor. The walls were painted with cracking facades and ruined concrete, grass and plants sprouting from every corner. I looked around and into the many windows, or at least the remaining frames and shards. It appeared to be a school, rather than an university like I had initially suspected - I suppose Isra’s eyesight helped her in that assessment.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

“If we had any long-range weapons, we could rain down fire through all of those classrooms and from the roof.” Glancing around, this would have been the perfect place for an ambush.

“You said you wanted to pick off some of them and take their guns,” Isra commented.

This inspired an idea within me. “Oh, yeah, of course!” I smacked myself on the forehead. “If we take one or two, we can create a fall-back position. We feign a retreat and, when they chase us, they walk directly into a death-box.”

“That sounds smart, but do you think we will be able to attack them in singles and then also fall back? I fear that we might be caught out in our retreat.”

I pulled my head back a little and chewed on the inside of my lip. Her worry was solid. This strategy was one of the reasons my squad had succeeded in many missions, developed by myself. But it was a different kind of battle back then. I had technologies, resources, and intel. Here, I carried none of those. I didn’t know how many there actually were, only that they were more than eight. Neither could I have reliably predicted when they would arrive and what kind of equipment they carried. Falling back allowed us to control the environment and pacing of the encounter. But we were also vulnerable to flanks and cut-offs.

The last factor that had me pause in this was Emir. The man is...strange to me. He always seemed like someone with experience, a composed attitude, and an uncanny ability to inspire. He was passionate about keeping our new ways of life steady and was always present during festivals. Sociable, kind worded, and an obscure past. The only thing I remember hearing directly from him was that he apparently served in Ohio until the end of the invasion. Everything else was hear-say or people making up stories.

My own suspicion? Hmm, I suppose some kind of spec-ops, perhaps CIA. But sometimes, he just came across like military police.

The danger he presented was an unknown factor. I didn’t - and still don’t - fully know how much tactical knowledge he possed. On one hand, he often asked for my help in strategic matters, especially when he didn’t have much time to do so. On the other, he is the only human in twenty years to have successfully lied to my face.

“You’re right, it’s not a flawless plan. But it’s the best I’ve come up with thus far, I’m open to suggestions,” I replied.

She waited for a second, trying to think. “I don’t have anything. Tactical decisions were never asked of me, I just followed orders. And they were often not more than simply charging at the enemy.”

We walked and slithered through the garden-like courtyard of the school and made our way into the building through an emergency exit. The staircase winded upward at a sharp angle, long hallways leading away from it and toward the main building. We reached the top and pushed open the door to the roof.

Gravel, interlaced with grass and various types of ferns, painted the rooftop and crunched beneath my feet. Isra seemed to have trouble moving on this particular ground but managed fine regardless. From up here, we could overview the entire town. The sun had risen higher, though still concealed by a blanket of white clouds. Behind them lay the burning yellow orb, drenching everything in a glowing light.

“Can we cook this now, I don’t want to carry it around anymore,” Isra said and lifted the rabbit up by its feet.

“Yeah, there’s some tables and chairs we can use as firewood.”

The necessary supplies were gathered easily enough. We broke off legs from desks and collected old assignment papers. Isra seemed to take interest in a few books, their covers long faded and pages tainted in yellow, the paper beginning to curl inward. I checked out the view from the fourth floor and was satisfied that, if my plan worked, this would be a very advantageous position.

With enough material, we went back upstairs and, using the sparks from the lighter on thin strips of paper, lit a fire. It took a while for the wood to catch but when it did, it burned brightly. I began to take the rabbit apart, slicing thigh, chest, and flanks with my cutter.

With my butchering completed, stripped, and attached to a broken piece of wood, I glanced back toward Isra. She was hungrily eyeing the carcass.

“I’m not gonna eat all this,” I argued and pointed to the remains of the animal. Enough meat for at least another person was on it but nothing I could really cook without some contraption. The pieces I picked out were long enough and had straight cuts, making it easy to skin hide from flesh. “If you’re still hungry, there’s no reason to keep quiet now.”

“Yes, I would like to eat more. But only if you are already full, you need to recover,” she added quickly.

“I’m honestly surprised you didn’t go for a boar or something. But, while we’re on that topic, How did you eat those rabbits?” I asked while hanging the chair’s leg over the fire.

“I just at them whole,” she explained nonchalantly.

“Like, swallowed? With bones and everything?” I looked back with wrinkled eyebrows.

“Y-yes. I did it away from you because...I thought you’d be disgusted by it, I know it’s unpleasant to look at,” her view met the floor, staring over the ledge of the roof.

“Honestly?” I turned to face her. I sought her eyes but she refused to look up. “I want to see that.”

“You what?” Isra suddenly shot upward and stared at me in utter bewilderment.

“You’ve been chewing your food until now, I found that strange. But I’ve always wondered what it looked like, you know, when you’re just...acting normal. I don’t want you changing up the way your life because you think it’ll upset me,” I explained and adamantly gazed back into her eyes.

Her expression continued to shift, going from confusion to a doubtfully scrutinizing look, and finalizing in a self-contemplative mien.

“Really?” She tried calling a nonexistent bluff one last time.

“It’s going to waste otherwise, dig in,” I encourage her and turn the meat, checking how much of it was done.

Isra lowered herself next to me, coiling around herself and collapsing like a spring. She tentatively picked up the body and looked down at the meat I was cooking.

“Are you sure you don’t want to eat first?” She was clearly still unsure.

Instead of answering, I just turned to her and bit off a chunk from the thigh piece I had cooked. She seemed to get the idea that my curiosity superseded any worry I had. And it was just that, I wanted to know more about her, become acquainted with every aspect of her. I noticed her eyes occasionally flicking back to me, as she lifted the remaining meat above herself. And again, her jaw almost completely detached, hanging open like a gaping pit, into which the entire body was promptly dropped.

I watched with a sideways cocked head and an inquisitive look on my face. The bulge traveled down her gullet and long neck, while she kept her head pointed upward still. It quickly disappeared into her chest and stomach - or rather belly. But it didn’t stop there, it continued to move, pushing a small outline along her tail and ending about a meter into her length.

“Where’s your stomach?” I asked during my chewing.

“Down here,” she lifted part of her tail, then motioned along the length, maybe three meters or so. “All the way until here.”

“And what’s in your belly, then?” I glance down to the lean, hourglass figure of her abdomen.

“Lungs and muscle,” she pocked above her pelvis and I saw her scales push inward.

“And the rest, like your liver, heart, you have all that, right?” Suddenly I grew very uncertain in my understanding of her anatomy.

“My heart is in my chest, everything else you are familiar with is also folded in my tail. Only about the last two meters don’t have anything in it,” she brought her tail up to her hand and displayed it for me.

“So that’s why your body heat depends so much on your tail,” I concluded and she gave me an acknowledging nod.

She lowered her head down onto her tail and gazed out into the distance while I finished my meal. Slowly, the clouds began to filter out, coming together in bigger clusters and allowing the blue sky to show behind them. With the sun sinking at an angle, its bountiful rays colored the greens of the dilapidated town in deep colors and provided draw-out shades to every reflective piece of glass.

The smoke from the fire rose above and I watched the last embers glow for a long while; sparks fluttered from it and the wood showed darker signs of cracking cinders, increasing in luminosity whenever a gust of wind blew by. Neither had mentioned this short break we were taking. Maybe it was for digestion, maybe we just wanted to enjoy a moment of peace before a battle neither could avoid. My reason was unsure, though I didn’t mind being able to see the brilliant manner in which Isra’s scales shined in the light.

When the last few bits of orange glow receded out of the burnt wood, I rose from the floor. Isra noticed my movement with a sideways glance and uncoiled herself as well. It was a strange silence, neither wanted to truly acknowledge our situation and its likely futility. Even if we managed to fend off Emir’s team, our lives would not find peace for a long time. Our hope for a simple time, away from conflict and just with one another, with an infinity to ask questions and conversate, would simply not be a reality for the foreseeable future. But we were willing to fight for it. And there wasn’t much more that we could do than hold onto this foolish desire.

“For the initial attack, we need to strike first. I would suggest we find a hiding place, let them pass, take one or two out close range, and retreat after. We then fall back to this location and rain down fire from the windows.” My plan had flaws in the form of unknown factors, such as the number of hostels, their approach to trying to find us, and the potential of getting spotted too early. But Isra didn’t object and I had no better alternative.

I tossed a few more wooden pieces of furniture onto the heated embers, making sure that the fire would stay lit for an hour or so. The smoke rose high, hopefully, visible from every corner of the town. I took the found supplies, as Isra informed me that she’d be better of using her claws, fangs, and venom. Next, I unscrewed the cap of the vodka bottle, took a small sip, and poured some of it onto an old, stiff rag - presumably used to wipe chalk. With the makeshift molotov cocktail prepared for our hopeful return, we headed out.

We made our way down the building and scouted the surrounding streets. We settled on an avenue that had plastic chairs, umbrellas, and tables, seemingly from an old cafe, on its sidelines. The buildings along the road were decrepit, their walls looked as if concrete had turned to wood, bending and leaning. Some had collapsed walls, others had cracked with time. Doors had broken inward, windows had shattered, plants grew from every spot of dirt, and vines slithered up the facades like tentacles from a sea monster.

“How far can your tongue reach, I’ve heard stories from others but I don’t even know if they’re true,” I said Isra, my gaze wandering the windows of some of the upper floors.

“Fifteen meters. But...it’s dangerous to do,” she sounded almost guilty for saying it.

I turned back to her, wrinkles scrounging my features. “Why?”

“I...know of some that lost their tongue doing that. It’s not something really suited for combat, at least not with humans. And it doesn’t regrow. So, unless I’m going after a singular person or am certain they don’t have melee weapons, I would much rather not do it. In Advent, I didn’t have that choice, I did it because I couldn’t worry about it. And just because it’s not cost me my tongue yet, doesn’t mean I want to tempt that.”

“Hmm,” I gave acknowledgment. “Then you shouldn’t do it, doesn’t sound worth it.”

She lingered on me for a moment, the black slits shifting for a moment - uncertain whether she should talk or not. “I...Luis, are you scared?”

“No,” I responded immediately.

“Really?” She breathed out in disbelief. “How, why?”

“Because it’s either this or death. That we either succeed fully or die in the process. There is no third option, there is no truce we can strike, no magical resolution. It will be risky, it’s not likely to go down smoothly. But it’s victory or death, and that is a choice, one we both will make many times in the hours to come.” Sometime during my explanation, I forgot I was actually talking. This speech, this type of goal-setting, I had done many times before.

She took in my words in silence at first, then her eyes trailed to the floor. “It’s just...I’m scared something will happen. I’m scared of being shot, scared of the pain...And I am terrified to lose you.”

The moment weighed heavily on my mind, realization washed over me in dark, ominous waves. “I don’t want to lose you either,” I admitted to both myself and Isra.

In my earlier life, I performed this kind of speech and believed every word of it. It was glory or death, it was simple. With the mortality rate of that particular profession, rising by ten percent with each year you survive, I had to come to terms with the likelihood of dying early. Perhaps that aspect just stuck to me, the chance of simply getting shot by a stray bullet, your head being popped open like a watermelon from someone hiding behind a wall with a shotgun.

Death was a constant, chilling, creeping companion for those years. And here I was again, his shadow looming above me, testing to see if I’d finally slip up. But I hadn’t noticed up until now. It was...a familiar sensation, one that brought - in some twisted way - comfort. Because it was something I could rely on, something that I could look at and believe to have control over the situation. I was trying to become that person again, I wanted to be Key because he would have handled this.

But was I able to just do that? Was I even capable of doing those things again? I had felt my aim waver over the years, my body becoming sluggish with the many abrasions I had simply endured the years prior. When I had shot the three agents that night, I had aimed for the second man’s head but landed in his jugular instead, allowing him to unleash another spray of bullets.

What if this dissolution about my own capabilities would cause me to be reckless? What if my lack of forethought would get Isra killed?

“You should also be concerned for yourself, I am. I know what you said to me, I know you don’t fear death. And I am afraid it will lead to doing something stupid for the sake of protecting me. And I will tell you this now; I do not want that.” Her voice sifted through my thoughts, allowing me to return to reality and to the sight of her sapphire eyes.

A thorny line of thinking, a realization that always felt so close but never crossed the line to develop into a singular thought. I didn’t care about my life, it was something I had forfeited a long time ago and ended up becoming only something I was not militant enough to end. It was means to an end. I kept it because Isra didn’t let go, pesky as I found it at the beginning, it convinced me to indulge in learning about the viper. But it was different at this point.

For the first time in over twenty years, my life had value to someone else.

Someone cared about me. Someone needed me. Not because I was being useful, not because I was in a position of power - getting rid of me would have been easier than keeping me around. Rather, she wanted me around...just because.

That’s all I could really think of when she said that. It was a tiny moment in time but it meant so much. It put the risk we were going into, into perspective. If I’d lose her here… If she lost me here…

The knowledge that the trepidations, concerning my fear about losing Isra, that had bore themselves into my thoughts were shared by her. It put terror into my heart; a feeling I had almost forgotten existed in such masses.

An overwhelming wave of this feeling hit me. It made me feel cold, unprotected, and so tiny in the world around me. The tears in my pants, the half-ripped sleeve of my shirt, the many spots of cacked red, and the drilling pain in my entire body. I was a dead man walking.

Surviving years of doing the most stupid shit, thinking myself invulnerable. No, not invulnerable, I was very much aware of my mortality, I just didn’t care. But they left me with knacks in my body, internal wounds that could tear, bones that had broken many times. And I had been shot thrice in the past week, knocked my head on a rock, probably still suffering from a concussion, and eaten fewer calories than what was needed to sustain my body. The fact that I wasn’t dead yet was nothing short of insane.

And here I was again, throwing myself into conflict like I had air support and an entire squad to back me up. I had a rusted knife, a dog leash, and a few nails to my name.

“Why did you have to say that?” I closed my eyes shut.

“W-what?” Isra stammered out.

I didn’t know why this was the first thing I gravitated toward, blaming her. It wasn’t her fault for telling me this, hell, it made a part of me feel good that she trusted me to voice her fears. But it still didn’t help my mind.

“I...I can’t. If I start worrying about what happens if I die here, then we’re already dead, both of us,” I said, my eyes staring through the figure in front of me.

She opened her mouth to speak but nothing emerged. She looked me in the eyes, her head level with mine. “Luis, I want you to know I care about you. Whatever happens in the next hours, I...— “

Suddenly, her head whipped to the side, her hood pulled tight and lunging at me. Within the same millisecond, but still later than her reflexes, I heard the thundering crack of a gunshot.

Isra’s body impacted with mine and I was pushed to the ground beneath her, her arms wrapped around me. As I fell, I saw the streak of gold pass where I had just stood a moment ago. It rang in my ear, even before I hit the ground and the shock of adrenaline coursed through every single one of my cells.

But Isra didn’t just let me go. We were out in the open, we needed cover. She picked me up like a sack of potatoes and slithered at incredible speed to the entrance of the cafe. I had a moment to look toward the direction of the shot and spotted the glint of a reflection; a scope, trained in on us. They were about to shoot again.

“Down!” I yelled and grabbed overtop Isra’s shoulder and forcefully pulled her neck down.

She reacted as well and dropped so low to the ground that I feared she’d have to drop me. But, displaying the uncanny strength in her upper body, supported via her tail, she held me horizontally straight, as we passed the overturned chairs and tables. Another echoing beat, this time more clearly identifiable as a sniper rifle, rang out, the high-caliber bullet resonating off of a nearby wall.

We burst through the door, Isra’s face pointing straight forward, focused. As soon as we were clear of the wide-open entrance, she let me go and I skittered across the floor from the extra momentum.

I rolled upward and jumped over the counter, an old display case, its glass long busted. While Isra stayed beneath the frame of the long side window, her long tail pressed all along the floor.

“We’re trapped in here, we need to go and wait for another opportunity, this is a kill-box!” I exclaimed toward the serpent, taking quick peeks out of the many open areas, hoping to spot where they were.

“How do you think we can do that? They’re everywhere, I can’t believe I hadn’t smelled them!” Isra sounded in panic.

“Can you make another cloud, like at the waterfall?” I asked hurriedly.

“Yes, but only once.”

“Cut the line of sight, we need to get distance. If we can get to the rooftops, they’ll have to come up to chase us.”

She nodded and peeked over the frame. Another shot, though this time it was a different weapon. Magnetic in nature, as indicated by the quiet ejection, coming from what I identified as an assault rifle. Isra luckily dodged down in time, slithered along her cover, then took a deep inhale. She shut her mouth close, gave me a look that asked: Ready? I nodded and she corkscrewed upwards, releasing a spray of steaming liquid out the window.

I jumped over the display case, taking a split second to look at the man who had stepped into the sitting area. I didn’t recognize him, a young, ginger-haired man. He had caught the side of Isra’s fuming spit and began choking and gaging. His posture slouched and he grabbed at his mouth and throat, trying to scream but failing to make any sound besides gurgling.

The thick, vapor-like cloud of toxic purple fumes acted like a lingering smoke grande, creating a barrier between the sniper and us. No one to the other side, so I sprinted out, Isra following a second behind but catching up quickly. While she headed straight for a fire-ladder, I pulled out the carpet knife and rushed at the coughing man.

His eyes were tearing and he was desperately trying to cover his mouth but he had already inhaled a lot of it. I held my breath once I got close and squinted my eyes. In a full run, I tackled him to the ground, kneeled on top of his chest, brought the knife up, then stabbed it into his neck. The feeling of tearing, cutting through flesh with momentum was disgusting, a rip along the length of his neck, the sudden spurt of blood was endless, and his desperate clawing at my arms let me feel his strength wavering.

I pulled it back out and went for his left chest. Again, I reared up and brought the cutter down. But, on the way into his heart, it must’ve caught the edge of a rib, which ripped off the already fragile metal. Still, I saw the copious amounts of red gush from the wound, signaling I had hit his heart regardless. His struggle was cut short by this, though it didn’t stop his body from trying to draw another breath through the gash in his neck.

I left the cutter in him. Quickly, I undid the straps of his gun, grabbed two spare magazines from his pouches, and snatched the handgun.

A sudden noise of static came through as I was about to leave. He had a small, blinking button on his ear.

“Ramirez, did you get them?” I immediately recognized the voice, Emir. “Ramirez, do you copy?” More urgently this time.

I pulled the bud from and held it to my mouth. “Come and get me yourself, motherfucker.” Then threw it to the ground and stomped on it.

Quickly, I rushed after Isra, who was already partway up the ladder. Now, seeing her climb was bizarre. Her massive tail wrapped around the metal so tightly I feared it would bend under the pressure and her hands made lunging grasps, pulling her up at, quite honestly, incredible speed. Still, I waited until she was almost all the way up, concerned with the maximum weight of this ladder.

I climbed after her, using one hand to hold the rifle, with the pistol shoved into my belt. At the top, a scaled hand reached out to me and I grabbed onto the cold, texture palm, being pulled to the roof quickly after.

“Take this,” I pressed the pistol to her and she undid the safety.

“Where do we go?” She tried her best to remain calm, though it wasn’t working very well.

“The school, we have weapons now, we can do this. Isra, we will do this.”

“There!” She suddenly called out and spun to face an opposite roof, where a man had just reached the top of a ladder. She leveled her pistol with him, shot twice, hit once. I brought my sights up and pulled the shoulder-rest against me, squinted an eye, and pulled the trigger once. Blood splattered from his shoulder and head, his body not resisting the velocity and falling back down the roof, his limply falling corpse hitting the floor with a squelch.

“Go, now!” I called out and Isra began slithering. I still had my sights scanning the roofs but spun around and sprinted after her.

The next minutes blur together into a constantly moving mass of grey, splitting concrete and mossy, slippery beneath. I looked over my shoulder every few seconds, checking the access points for emerging hostiles but it seemed they had been discouraged by the initial encounter. Still, I caught the edges of an outline, one peeking around a corner, another reached the top of a ladder and dashed for cover. I turned on the spot and shot at the latter one's leg, a splatter of red emerging from his knee, the person fell to the floor a second after. But, before I could finish the job, another shape entered my peripheral vision, standing straight and their posture aimed at me.

Instinctively, I dodged to the side and behind a chimney, a cloud of dust being whirled up next to my head. I waited for a second, making a mental map of their positioning, then pushed off the cover and fired in small bursts.

My first target, the shooter, had been in the middle of running over to his injured compatriot and wasn't ready. Two in the upper chest, another in the head as he fell. The man on the ground screamed something and reached for his pistol. Even if he had made it there, I doubt he could have hit a shot from that distance. He was dispatched with a singular shot to the head, his outstretched hand going limp.

With the coast clear, I ran after Isra, who had made quite the headway. We came to a roof that connected to an office building, which had no way to cross onto its roof. But the many floors with identical cubicles, all wrecked with time and sprouting nature, were close enough to potentially jump. Isra waited at the edge, shifting her eyes from potential escape route to me as I arrived.

"Can you make that?" She asked, motioning to the gap.

About five meters and a little bit of elevation would be necessary to clear the fissure and land safely inside the open window of the sixth floor. I looked over the edge, it went straight down into an alley.

"Yeah, can you?" I returned the question, speaking with more confidence than I truly possessed at that moment. Isra scrutinized me.

"Luis? I'm not scraping you off the floor, can you make it or not?" She must've caught my lie.

"I don't know, with enough speed, sure," I resigned.

She looked backward and judged the amount of runway I would have. The building we were on was an apartment complex, thin and tall. The only problem, it was partially collapsed, a wall had given way to a plentiful amount of plants and leveled with the ground. I had maybe ten meters of solid ground to run on.

"Do it, I'm going to push you," Isra suggested and slithered to the edge.

I contemplated for a second but saw no better way out. We could've dropped into the apartment below and hoped that the stairs were still intact, or perhaps looked for another fire exit further back, but I heard the scraping of boots against loose concrete.

I handed Isra my rifle and she gave me a silent nod. Like a sprinter, I got down on all fours, raised my behind, and raced toward the ledge. I felt my heavy boots dragging me down slightly and my ribs stung with every step. The last foot was placed on the slightly elevated ledge and I brought my feet upward. At the same moment, I felt a heavy force in my back and experienced an increase in momentum mid-air. I had a second to look down at the ground before I landed on the opposite side, skidding across a floor littered with rubble.

Isra tossed the guns over and I rose to my feet, only to watch something unnervingly fascinating. Rolled into a ball, Isra's tail remained on the opposite side and, like a floating rope in a magic show, her body just kept hovering over the edge. Just horizontally floating, she made it about three-thirds of the way there. Then she pulled back slightly, brought her arms to the side, and thrust forward. I had to quickly dodge, as the serpent flew right by me, easily clearing the gap and then some.

"Damn," I let out, handing her back the pistol.

Something buzzed in the distance like a heavy motor activating. I looked out the windows and saw the school, catching a sliver of silver at its peak, but it disappeared and I dismissed it as a reflection of the sun. I glanced down and planned a route through the splitting asphalt street below. Cars laid still on it, dead and many dismantled for their parts. I described the path I imagined to Isra.

We took a fire stairway down and rushed out into the street, then ducked behind the cover of dead cars. I peeked out from the busted window of a van and spotted one more of the darkly dressed humans. Hastily, I brought my gun up and shot a small tap-fire through the gap, hitting him in the chest and shoulder. He collapsed shortly after, groaning loudly before he was pulled into cover by another hand. I heard the click of an empty magazine and discharged it.

Isra meanwhile advanced further and reached a sports car, that had crashed into a streetlamp. I saw the way in which her body swayed back and forth, her tail swiveled up and down, and her grip at the pistol adjusted every few seconds. Unease, that much was obvious, mixed with a certain readiness, anticipation. But I was also proud, glad that she was ready to go. I locked eyes with her and gave a firm nod.

I pushed out into the open, walking backward toward Isra, vision trained through the metallic scope, scanning the area. No one tried to take a shot at me as I moved between the cars and backed away toward the school. I spotted the end of a barrel from around a corner and shot at the alleyway to discourage whoever was behind it. The person flinched away and didn’t show again, as the spray of loosened concrete created a cloud.

“Luis, come on!” Isra yelled to me and I took a quick shoulder glance to see her standing at the entrance. Certain that she had me covered, I whirled around and hot-footed to her. She fired at someone behind me, I don’t know if she hit, but it kept me clear of getting shot in the back.

I didn’t stop once inside and continued to dash up the stairs. Isra, still faster than me, caught up quickly and used the railing to accelerate even further. I heard my heart in my ears, drumming a steady, if quite frantic, beat into my thoughts. The adrenaline coursing through me caused the pain of my body to vanish and become replaced by a familiar focus.

We stormed up to the top floor, where the stairs ended. To get to the roof, we would need to cross a sky-bride, leading to another section of the school. The rooms’ doors, although many had been ripped from their hinges, counted upward the numbers of 407-D, 408-D, etc; meaning we were in the D-tract. The door to the roof was in the opposite building, the B-tract. But that didn’t mean we couldn’t use the many windows.

Rushing into one of the rooms at the end of a hallway, next to the sky-bridge, we took place beneath opposite sides of the room. I glanced overtop the open sill and looked down into the overgrown courtyard. I spotted five people, though it was too quick a peek to make out their exact shapes. I turned back to Isra and held up three fingers. She nodded and, simultaneously, we sprung up, resting our guns on the frames.

I aimed at the ones in the back, making one of them out as a woman carrying a heavy-looking sniper rifle. I steered my sights over her, then froze. Sahra. Her short frame was instantly recognizable, her blond hair peeked from beneath her helmet in a bun, and then her bright eyes connected with mine. My finger rested on the trigger, the crosshair was perfectly aligned, but coldness dug itself into my ribcage. She yelled and pointed at me, all the others reacted.

Isra began firing. One got hit in the upper thigh, then chest, and began groaning in pain, clutching both. Another, who had tried to dive for cover, left the very top of his head exposed behind a concrete flower pot, which was promptly taken off like the top of a coconut. Red splattered out behind him, both blood and brains.

But I hadn’t even shot. My sight was on Sahra, as the woman desperately tried to get out of the open. I had to shoot, she was a legitimate threat with her rifle, even up here. But my finger didn’t budge. A sudden click to my side.

“Luis!” Isra called out after she tried to shoot again - her weapon jammed.

“ I’m sorry,” I whispered to myself and brought the barrel a little higher. I took a breath. And squeezed.

Her sprint was cut short and her body tumbled from the remaining inertia, doubling over itself and coming to a rolling stop. Her rifle hurtled away from her and skidded into a bush.

Shot in the fucking back while running. She didn’t deserve that.

The last guy had disappeared somewhere into the foliage, out of sight.

Isra had ducked down already, attempting to fix her weapon. I saw the way the slide was locked in place, recognizing it as a bullet had lodged itself between the sliding piece. I scrambled over to her and held out my hand. She gave me the weapon and peeked over the frame once more.

I pulled the slide all the way back and turned the gun upside down. When nothing emerged, I shook it a few times. This did the trick and a golden 9mm bullet clattered from the ground. As she had no extra magazines, even a single bullet would be valuable. So I hastily popped the magazine and tried to insert the bullet into its top. But my fingers felt freezing cold and my mind wasn’t doing me the courtesy of holding still, so I dropped it once or twice before finally getting it in. I shoved the clip back in and handed it to Isra, her long digits wrapping around it, compensating for the lack of a fifth finger.

“We have to keep moving,” I said and got up toward the door.

Swiftly, we ran along the sky-bridge and to the opposite building.

The short stairway to the roof lay next to the end of the hallway we emerged into. We had left the door open. I rounded the corner and Isra was about to surpass me, bursting out into the open.

The door was closed.

“Isra, stop!” I hissed out sharply and the viper halted dead in her tracks, about halfway up the stairs.

“They’re already up there, do you smell them?” I asked intensely.

She looked confused for a second but slipped her tongue out regardless. Then her eyes went wide and she reflexively recoiled from the door, taking cover at the bottom of the stairway.

“How did they get up there?” She asked with panic in her voice.

“I don’t know but we can’t go through there, they’ll just shoot at the door.”

“But then we’re trapped, we can’t leave this building if they’re on the roof,” Isra voiced and I clenched my jaw upon reaching the same conclusion.

I huffed heavily, narrowed my vision, trying to think.

“If we get to another access point, we might be able to rush them. There’s practically no cover up there,” I suggest, recalling the layout mentally. “They had to either take the stairs separately or...or they have a hover ship. That’s our exit,” I said determinedly.

“There is a fire exit on the south side, facing the street,” Isra recounted.

Running over abandoned school bags, debris from collapsed walls, and splintered doors, we arrived at a thick door. Windows with busted glass but remaining wire, thick and metallic, stood in our way. I rattled the handle but it didn’t budge. Then I heard footsteps from one of the stairways.

“Isra, get this thing open, I’ll cover you,” I said to her and stepped out into the hallway.

Isra dropped her weapon and lunged at the metal grating, piercing her claws into them and creating holes. She grasped inside and dug her hands into the gap created, tearing outwards.

I kneeled down in the middle of the hallway. I was out in the open, I would have to shoot first.

The clanking of gears, voices trying to stay hushed while exerting themselves. Heavy breaths. I clicked the switch to full-auto. Then, the sliver of black cloth.

My body tensed and braced for recoil. My arms flexed and I held onto the barrel with whitening knuckles. Then my finger pressed down. Magnetic weapons didn’t have the same kick as regular rifles but still pushed into my shoulder with force. I leaned back onto my supporting leg, which I had turned sideways on the floor. I know I hit one directly in the head, another caught many hits on his chest, but it was too much to make out after that.

I could fire for maybe a second before it was immediately retaliated. Uncoordinated, wild, and high-powered fire emerged from the stairs and let dust and rubble rain from the walls and ceiling. But I held my spray steady, squinting through the hurtful fragments, and not drawing in a breath.

Upon the initial confrontation, the survivors, if there were any, appeared to retreat - trying perhaps to save the ones I hit.

“It’s open, let’s go!” Isra called out.

She had ripped the grating far enough to have brought her body into it and then proceeded to bend the door open. The gap was wide enough for me to easily vault through. But she became thicker as her tail progressed. At about halfway, her scales began rubbing against the metal and peeled off at many spots, leaving a gash of yellowish blood along her tail and up to her waist. I saw her wince in pain but she pushed through.

I shot her a worried look but she didn’t acknowledge the injury, perhaps also on the highs of adrenaline. Speaking of which.

“Luis, you’re bleeding,” her voice wavered as she rushed to me.

I looked down confused, then saw the growing amount of red in my right flank. It drenched through my grey shirt and I suddenly felt the gripping cold. I must have gotten shot in that hallway.

“It’s fine,” I dismissed immediately.

“No, it’s not! You can’t go up there, you’ll just get gunned down,” Isra grabbed the assault rifle out of my hands, I didn’t resist. “Here, you cover me, got it?” She pressed the pistol into my hand, then pushed past me and toward the stairs.