It was worse than Lance had thought it would be.

They crawled out of the hideout, sneaked out the back door, and clambered up the fire escape to the roof of the neighboring building. They hopped rooftops until they had to climb back down, make a mad dash across the street, and start all over again. Derek and Rob jumped the gaps with no problem. Kaela and Lance took running starts and a lot of deep breaths to reassure themselves that they wouldn’t plummet to the unforgiving concrete below.

No civilians were around, just empty streets, police cars, and an occasional patrolling guard. Rob was right. They’d enacted a curfew.

They stopped on the roof of a pastry shop, where the smell of cakes wafted up to his nose. It was euphoric, after having to deal with the smell of dirt and body odor for so long. Lance stared up at the night sky, at the stars speckling the black canvas, and he breathed in the refreshing, pastry-laced night air.

A moment of calm before the storm.

Landreau Corp towered above the rest of the buildings in the city, its entrance closely guarded. At least five men stood at the glass doors, which were reinforced with iron bars. More men patrolled a closed-off pathway leading to the door. A few employees were leaving the building, all looking normal.

So none of the employees had been affected.

“Look over there,” Rob whispered, pointing at a small parking lot to the side of Landreau Corp.

A short brick wall surrounded it, just high enough that nobody would notice the two guards on each side of the back door.

“They’re completely out of sight, so taking them out shouldn’t be too hard.”

Derek hummed. “So how do we get a uniform so I can get in there?”

“I… procured one for you.” Rob stood and went to the stairwell door. Hidden behind it was a bag. He returned and promptly dropped it in front of Derek.

Derek reached into the bag and took out the helmet. “Lighter than I thought it’d be.”

“I know, right? The body was a lot easier to drag than I figured.”

Kaela crossed her arms. “And… where is this body, exactly?”

Rob smiled sheepishly. “Same place as the uniform.” Before Kaela could respond, he continued, “I wouldn’t go back there if I were you. It’s already starting to smell.”

Kaela groaned in disgust and walked closer to the edge of the building, probably trying to avoid the smell in case it wafted her way.

Derek was already putting the uniform on, cursing and stumbling as he struggled to fit into it.

“Yeah, it might be a bit small on you,” Rob said. “Try not to walk funny.”

Kaela dropped her head into her hands.

“How are Kaela and I going to get to that parking lot unseen?” Lance asked.

Rob followed Lance’s stare to the parking lot, where the two guards at the door stood like statues, watching for any movement. “Don’t worry, I have someone positioned across the street. They’ll make a distraction for you.” He stared down from the roof. “There’s a stairwell over here. Once the distraction happens, you and Kaela make a dash for it.”

“Okay,” Derek said, the entire outfit on except for the helmet, which he cradled in his arm. “How do I look?”

“Like a corrupt policeman,” Kaela said, “who gained some weight.”

Derek grimaced. “Har har.” He moved around a bit, then his grimace darkened. “This is squeezing me in all the wrong places.”

Kaela covered her mouth, a breathy laugh spilling out. Lance chuckled a bit as well, a welcome relief from the nerves, and seeing a hesitant smile grow on Derek’s face eased his nerves more. God, how were they smiling now when they were about to die?

Rob had a cool smile on his face. “Okay, not bad. I was following the guard before I took him out. Just tell the guards at the entrance that you’re done with your patrol. Now, get down there and get into the building.”

Derek secured the helmet on his head. “Is it that easy?”

“We’re about to find out. If anything goes wrong”—he patted the rifle secured to his back—“I’ll cover you.” He then reached into the bag where the uniform had been and drew a pistol, which he promptly tossed to Derek.

Kaela crossed her arms. “And once Derek gets in, Lance and I make a run for it?”

“Precisely,” Rob said, already positioning himself on the edge of the roof, rifle pointed right at the guards at the entrance.

Derek nodded, the action hardly noticeable with the dark helmet seamlessly blending with the outfit. He holstered the pistol. Not an inch of skin could be seen—perfect for hiding purple veins.

Or an intruder in the building.

Derek jumped down to the stairwell and descended to street level. He stepped out into the street and strode across to Landreau Corp.

Lance held his breath as one of the guards held a hand out and stopped Derek. He could barely hear the guard speaking, but he couldn’t tell what he was saying.

Derek said something back, and the guard leaned in closer, looking at Derek’s chest.

His badge.

The guard silently stared Derek down. Derek’s hand slid carefully to the pistol at his hip, and while the guard didn’t notice, all he had to do was look down at Derek’s hand to be suspicious.

Rob cursed, and his finger slid from the guard to the trigger.

The guard turned toward one of the others, waved his hand, and said something, and Derek relaxed. The rest of the guards nodded in response, and Derek was let by. Rob relaxed, and his finger returned to the guard. Lance allowed himself to breathe as Derek ascended the steps to the door, where two guards nodded to him. Derek nodded back and disappeared into the building.

“Okay,” Rob said, not looking at them, but adjusting the rifle toward the parking lot. “Go ahead. I’ll signal for the distraction.”

Lance gulped, and his heart skipped a beat. Kaela seemed confident, but her posture was rigid. She was nervous too.

Just like Derek, they clambered down the stairwell to street level. They eased to the edge of the alley, where Kaela eyed the guards.

“Wait for it,” Kaela said, but it seemed directed more at herself than at Lance. The guard that had questioned Derek turned away and walked to the other end of the building. The guards at the entrance scanned the area, left and right.

Lance surveyed the street for any sign of a distraction. “How are we supposed to know when—”

Before he could finish, an alley at the end of the street fizzled and popped and filled with smoke.

“Firecrackers,” Kaela whispered. “They’re not looking. Go!”

Lance and Kaela sprinted toward the parking lot. Lance’s stomach didn’t turn, and the calm didn’t settle over him. They were safe for now. When they reached the lot, both of them looked back, catching their breath.

“They shouldn’t be able to see us from the entrance now,” Kaela said. She turned toward the two guards at the back door. A man and a woman, judging by their frames.

“Copy,” one of them said. “A firecracker. Can you believe that shit?”

“Probably kids,” the other guard said. “I hate kids.”

A pause. “You have kids.”

“I didn’t say I hated my kids.”

Kaela and Lance shared a look.

Lance whispered, “At least they sound like they’re normal.”

“That’s a good sign, at least. Let me distract them while you sneak around those cars.” Kaela pointed at a set of three cars parked beside each other. “When I make a move, you jump in and finish them off. Ready?”

Lance nodded and ignored his dry mouth as he dug within himself, searching for that whisper, that calm that came over him in danger. He’d never tried to control it before. It usually worked the other way around. But as he searched, he found nothing—no twisting stomach, no whispering, nothing.

“Go for it,” Lance said as he sneaked around the car and waited.

Kaela stood, painting a worried expression on her face. She approached the guards.

Lance reached out for that feeling, but it wasn’t there. His chest tightened. It was as if it disappeared. What if he couldn’t fight?

“Hello?” Kaela said to the guards, keeping her voice fragile and worried. “I need help.”

Lance peeked around the car. The guards looked at each other before one stepped out to face Kaela, a hand on his pistol. Kaela’s body language screamed panic, and her face was ghostly white.

Quite the actress.

“You’re not allowed to be here,” one guard said. “You need to leave.”

“Please,” Kaela pleaded, “I need to find my daughter. We were walking home, and she disappeared. Please!” She leaned on the man’s chest, desperate sobs spilling from her.

The guard pulled her hands off his chest. “I said you need to l—” He stopped and looked at Kaela’s face in the light of the lamppost shining on the lot. “Wait… I know you. You’re one of the—” He was cut off as a knife found its way into his knee. He tried to shout, but Kaela ripped his helmet off and covered his mouth, falling to the ground with him.

Lance looked at the second guard, who pointed her gun at Kaela. He sprinted toward the guard, that calm refusing to grace him with its presence. The guard spotted Lance, pointing her gun at him instead. He charged into her, slamming her into the wall. The fact that the gun didn’t go off was a miracle.

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The guard grunted at the impact. Lance pulled the gun from her grasp and threw it aside. He was already out of breath. The guard cursed and drew a baton.

Finally, time slowed down. The calm washed over him, that stirring within the pit of his stomach. A voice whispered in his head.

Survive.

The smile that tugged at his lips unsettled him as much as it relieved him, and he kicked the baton out of her hand. The weapon flew into the air. She threw a punch at Lance, and he grabbed her arm, whirling her around and throwing her into the brick wall. The baton came down, and Lance caught it. He ripped her helmet off and bashed the baton over her head. She collapsed.

He turned toward Kaela. She made to pull the knife from the man’s knee, but he pushed her off. Kaela swiped the helmet from the ground and swung it into his head. Purple blood sprayed from his nose. Again, Kaela swung the helmet, over and over until he went still.

Out of breath, she sat against the wall. “Help me drag them out of sight.”

Lance and Kaela dragged their unconscious bodies into a dark spot behind a car and stole their uniforms. They stepped out from behind the car and looked around.

“That went easier than I thought,” Kaela said, adjusting a loose strand of hair in her eye. “Now, we wait for Derek to—”

Before she could finish, the door clicked and opened, revealing a uniformed guard. Lance and Kaela froze, but then the guard took his helmet off, revealing Derek underneath.

“Come on,” he said, and Lance and Kaela slinked inside the building, donning the helmets.

When Lance stepped in, he gawked at just how much he could see with the helmet. Even with the dark visor, he could scan the entire hallway in front of him without moving his head an inch.

The hallway was lit with bright white lights, similar to the sickening lights at their hideout. The sight of them nauseated him. Two shining silver elevator doors stood to his left, with a stairway at the end of the hall. Beyond that was a wall then a turn to the right, which likely led to the lobby. It was exactly as it was drawn on the paper back at the hideout.

Derek cleared his throat. “We’re taking the elevator to the top floor. Kaela, find out what you can from the guards.”

Kaela saluted him and, with sarcasm painted on every word, said, “Aye aye, captain.” She ended the salute with a wave and sauntered down the hall, taking a right at the end and disappearing around the corner.

“Ready?” Lance asked Derek as he pressed the elevator button.

Derek leaned against the wall. “Hmph. I was about to ask you that, actually.”

“What do we do if we find something?”

The doors opened, and they stepped inside, pressing the button for the top floor. Even when they were in the elevator, Derek spoke quietly.

“Hope and pray that we can escape.”

Lance rolled his eyes. “That’s comforting.”

It wasn’t, but somehow, the helmet was. There was no need to hide his facial expressions. He could roll his eyes, frown, or look anywhere he wanted, and nobody would know. That didn’t matter around Derek, but still, this past week would’ve been so much easier if he’d had a helmet like this one.

Derek broke the silence. “I wonder what we’re going to find.”

“I can’t stop thinking about what we’re going to do if we don’t find anything.”

The cheery elevator music did nothing to prevent Lance’s heart sinking into his stomach. They’d just infiltrated the most dangerous building in Arachna, and they were wanted by the police force guarding it. Taking out a guard at the back entrance was one thing, but if a dozen came flooding in after him, he’d be finished.

The remains of that calm stirred within Lance, like a parasite slithering through his body, hissing and snapping at anything that put its host in danger. He knew he shouldn’t ask the question floating in his head, that he should keep it to himself and not show that weakness, but as hard as he tried to shove it down, he soon sighed and went for it.

“Do you ever feel like you can’t control how you fight back… like you don’t have any control over your body? I feel this calm feeling when I’m in danger, and then… next thing I know, I’m alive and there’s bodies around me…”

Derek looked at him, though Lance couldn’t tell what expression he was holding. “That sounds like adrenaline to me. You’d be surprised the things you can do when your life is in danger. Sometimes, that’s just how surviving works. Time slows down, everything goes by in a blur, and you’re either dead or alive at the end of it.”

“I wish I had more control over it,” Lance said, more to himself than to Derek. His stomach turned, but it wasn’t the calm.

Derek was quiet for a second. “You will one day.”

Lance sighed, focusing on his feet. “I don’t know… It just feels weird, being able to do this. It’s like watching myself do it. I—”

“Lance…” Derek sounded frustrated. “You need to stop overthinking it. I made that same mistake when I started out as a fighter, and it only made things worse. Just do what you’re doing now. It’s obviously working for you.”

Maybe he was right, though Derek probably didn’t hear voices when he fought.

Maybe with all that was happening, he truly was losing his mind. With the drugs and the alcohol and the years in the slums, the possibility that he was just imagining things made sense.

The elevator reached the top floor, and Lance’s heart rose back up into his chest. When the doors opened, the duo tensed.

Three guards were facing them. For a moment of tense silence, Lance felt it again, that calm stirring around within him. Except no voice spoke to him this time.

One of the guards in the trio nodded, and Derek returned it. Holding his breath, Lance stepped out, shimmying between two of the guards entering the elevator. He didn’t allow himself a breath until the elevator doors closed behind them, and he and Derek were left in the hallway of the top floor.

Alone.

“Okay, you check at the doors on that end.” Derek pointed down the hallway to the left of the elevators. Then he pointed to the hallway to the right. “And I’ll search here. If you find something, just knock on the door loud enough for me to hear. I don’t want anyone to hear us calling each other, especially by name.”

Lance nodded. Derek was already looking at the slim golden tags placed at eye level on every door.

Lance turned and started the search on his side of the hallway. He muttered the name on the closest door. “A. James.” As he padded down the hallway, he read the tags on each one with a glance. “E. Newman. G. Hasan. M. Singh.” Lance searched until he came to the end of the hallway. “Aaand T. Banes.” He sighed. “Nothing.”

A faint sound perked Lance’s ears, a knock on the other end of the floor. He padded back down the hall. Derek was standing next to a door, his helmet raised as he scratched his chin. The tag read: M. Landreau.

“I found it,” he whispered as Lance approached. “Come on.”

Lance couldn’t suppress a few nervous glances down the hall. He racked his brain for some excuse he could use if anyone caught them up here. Derek cracked open the door, only worsening Lance’s nerves, and peeked in before slipping inside. Lance followed and shut the door behind them with a soft click. He felt along the wall until his fingers found a switch and flipped it.

Light flooded the room. Derek spun on his feet and flipped the switch back, plunging the room into darkness once again.

“We cannot let anyone know we’re in here,” he hissed. After a glance at the light under the door, he removed his helmet and began searching the room.

Lance removed his own helmet, standing perfectly still. He could hardly see anything in the darkness.

Derek padded easily over to one side of the office and ripped open a set of curtains. The moonlight shone into the office, casting the whole room in a dim white glaze.

“How did you—”

Derek shrugged. “I’m used to having to see in the dark.”

A fake plant sat next to the window, its shadow casting the shape of a monster on the floor. Derek looked out the window, down at the streets below, and just stood there for a few seconds before he stepped quietly around the desk and set his helmet down.

Lance set his own helmet beside Derek’s.

“Looks like everything is calm down there,” Derek said as he opened a drawer and rifled through it. “You hid the bodies behind the building well, right?” He paused. “Did you kill them?”

Lance hesitated then shook his head.

Derek cursed. “Then we have a stricter time limit than I thought.”

“Sorry,” Lance responded, locking the door to the office and stepping around the desk like Derek had. But while Derek was focused on the contents of the drawers, Lance found himself drawn to the bookshelf standing tall and proud behind it.

He tapped his finger on each of the books, the titles all referring to medicine, biology, or chemistry. Lots of books on chemistry, Lance thought as he continued down the shelf. One book in particular looked worn, the spine loose and scratched. He slid it out from between its brothers and let it fall into his hand. He thumbed through the book, finding notes scrawled across each page. A few pages had been torn out. Lance continued flipping through the book, watching as the notes transformed from meticulously written words to nearly incomprehensible scrawls, like a madman had scribbled them.

MUST BE BETTER!

The words were circled and underlined. Lance flipped through more pages and found one that was entirely scrawled out, the words barely visible any longer. At the top of that page, written in a different color ink: FOOLS!!!!

Lance stepped closer to the window and squinted at the words at the top of the page, the moonlight providing him some assistance. Unlike the red ink used for past notes, this one was in a purple ink. Or…

“Derek,” Lance whispered.

The rifling stopped.

“What?” He was already behind Lance, looking over his shoulder at the book. He swore when he saw the scribblings.

“Is that…” Lance couldn’t make himself finish the sentence, but an odd smell emanated from the purple ‘ink’. He turned toward Derek, his face twisted in disgust.

“Keep looking,” Derek said.

Lance turned the page again, then again. The scribblings lessened, as if Malcolm had entirely lost interest in making notes in the book. He flipped the pages faster and faster until he reached the very end of the book, where one last sentence was scribbled on the inside of the back cover. It was difficult to read, but he could just make it out:

I was careless… FOOLISH! Just like them! Must go back to the church! Must continue my research!

Derek took the book from Lance and reread the page. Lance leaned against the window and looked down at the streets. From where they were, the guards were like ants, guarding the entrance to the building, completely unaware of the intruders crawling around in their nest. He looked at the rooftop where Rob was positioned, but he was nearly invisible. The darkness hid him well, as if he could manipulate it at will. This was the company Lance kept now, and with his current predicament, that didn’t seem so bad.

God, this view. The whole city was laid bare before him. Even the slums were visible from here. Under any other circumstances, Lance would’ve killed to sit against this window and stare out at the city forever. Kaela would love it too, he thought. No wonder she loved that hill so much.

“So now what?” Lance asked through a breath, somewhat comforted by the moonlight shining down on him.

Derek ripped out the page mentioning the church, closed the book, and slipped it back into the shelf. He took the ripped-out piece of paper and tore it to shreds, pocketing the pieces. “I suppose we go to the church… wherever that is.”

“There’s only one church in Arachna that I know of.”

“Maybe he left something there, some clue as to what he was doing.”

“He didn’t seem so crazy when Eric and I met with him. Nervous, maybe. But nothing like the way he wrote. And he didn’t have any purple veins.”

Derek closed the curtains, and the room was dark once again.

“Was he wearing clothes that might have covered him up?”

Lance shook his head. “No, he was perfectly normal… I don’t understand.”

“Well maybe we can—” He stopped when a shadow slithered across the light on the other side of the door.

Derek grabbed his helmet and plastered himself against the wall next to the door. Lance stood paralyzed, comforted only by the fact that he’d locked it behind him.

But then the shadow returned.

And it stood still right at the door.

The doorknob jiggled and rattled, then someone spoke from the other side.

“Are you sure you saw somebody go in here?”

Someone else responded, “Absolutely. I saw them on the camera myself. Two officers went in there.”

Thanks to the light leaking under the door, Lance could see Derek’s silhouette move. Then it moved again. After a few times, Lance realized Derek was gesturing to the left of the door, telling him to plaster himself against the wall too. When the doorknob rattled again, Lance grabbed his helmet and did just that.

“It’s probably just some young couple from the police precinct tha—”

Lance would’ve felt relief if the other voice hadn’t interrupted and said, “Just check!”

A sigh sounded, then the jangling of keys. Derek’s silhouette flattened itself against the wall. Lance did the same and held his breath. The door opened, and his heart fell as a man holding a rifle stepped in. Following him was another guard. Lance’s heart was beating so hard, he thought one of them might hear it. Sweat poured down his face, and a knot formed in his stomach.

Worry crept in, but then the calm began to settle. The serpent within his gut slithered and hissed.

No, Lance thought as his body ached to attack them. Not now.

“Hello?” the first guard said, pointing the rifle behind the desk. Lance gulped, and the second guard turned toward the noise.

Lance thought his chest would explode as the guard took a step toward him, then another, his black visor staring right at him. Every second he investigated the darkness felt like an hour, and Lance’s throat, his chest, his entire body was tensed hard enough to hurt. He was grateful for the dark uniform blending him into the wall.

Survive, the voice whispered.

Not yet! Lance hissed back.

If the guard made so much as one move toward him, he would have to fight. And if they were detected, being on the top floor, they would be done for. No amount of fighting would get them out of the building.

The guard turned back around, but Lance didn’t allow himself to relax yet.

The rifleman searched behind the curtains and asked, “Is there a light switch somewhere in here?”

The other guard was leaning against the desk and chuckled. “Right, sorry.” He strode toward the light switch, right where Derek was hiding, flattened against the wall.

Lance’s eyes burned with sweat, and his chest hurt from the lack of oxygen. He allowed himself small, short breaths through his nose and told himself everything would be okay. When the guard’s hand reached for the light switch, Lance expected Derek to reveal himself, to snap his wrist in an instant and send both guards out the window.

But Derek did nothing.

And light flooded the room.