I open my eyes an indeterminate while later, and immediately I notice the atmosphere has changed- the tension is palpable.

Olivia is backed up into her corner, glaring back at me whenever I glance her way. Usk is pacing and muttering again, but now he’s sweating, eyes darting between the two of us, and the door. I don’t know what he’s drinking, but it smells strong, and weirdly like flowers.

I knew my comments didn’t exactly go over well, but this? I figured Olivia was in a similar boat to me, working class and finding work wherever pays. Is she some kind of conservative zealot, or something? Is that why she’s sleeping with the Mayor- seduction through erotic trickle-down roleplay?

I draw back into my own ball, which only increases the tension in her frame. God, maybe she hates me now. Maybe she’s thinking I’m an extra mouth to feed. That they’ll last longer if they get rid of me. It’s not like the thought didn’t cross my mind, after all- oh, fuck, the gun, what if one of them took the gun while I slept? I try my best to check it’s still in my pocket, discreetly, but Olivia catches the motion- is that accusation in her eyes? It is, isn’t it?

She speaks, and it’s not what I was expecting, but that’s little comfort. “They’re going to find us, you know.”

“What?!” Usk hisses over at her, and she looks over at him, nodding fitfully.

“They’ll get in. I read up on them, all the different models- it’s part of my job to stay informed. They say that the longer an incursion goes on, the bigger the things that appear. Tomorrow there’ll be things that could smash through these walls, easily! Or, or the vents are open, there’s these things called model sevens that crawl in, infect people, pilot their corpses!”

She’s risen from the bed, stumbling over to Usk and grabbing at his arms, gripping tight.

“Fuck!” he hisses, and I want to tell her to stop, but, I’m feeling it, that raw edge of fear. What if we’re found? What if we’re not found? What if days and days go by and the monsters get worse and no-one rescues us until finally something finishes us off? It’s so easy to picture it, days of misery, waiting to die. Fuck!

Usk breaks first, making for the door, and I’m clambering up- to stop him or join him I’m not sure- but before I take more than a step, he’s yanked the deadbolt back, throwing the door open- and a twitching mass of tentacles have shot through, like heat-seeking missiles, straight for Olivia.

There’s no time to think, and my stumbling dash turns into a dive. I grab Olivia’s slim frame, yank her aside- tripping as I do, going sprawling, nearly braining myself on the cabinets. I look up, disoriented, and for a second all I can see is just- twisting, squirming flesh. This is it, it must be, they’ve got me, but- they’re not coming any closer.

I scoot backwards, away from the that, and realise why I’m alive; Olivia and Usk tried to shove the door closed, and the grasping limbs are trapped by the metal weight.

The tentacles don’t seem happy at their predicament, as they’re smashing everything within reach- mostly the minibar. Thankfully, though, they don’t seem to be flexible enough to reach back to my colleagues.

Usk and Olivia are shouting at each other, angrily, but I can’t hear over the sound of thrashing limbs. What are they arguing about? I tense up. What if they’re planning to use me as bait? Shove me at it, then as it grabs me, shut the door behind me? That would be just like Melon, he’s a ‘sacrifice others’ type of guy. Well, I’m not going to just sit here and take it; I reach for my pistol. If they make any moves towards me, I’ll shoot them both, I’ll-

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

Olivia looks over at me, and her eyes are shining, full of gratitude. Oh. I just saved her life, didn’t I? What the fuck am I doing? There’s a full-on monster in the room and I’m thinking of firing this gun at the humans instead? My brain is foggy, it’s hard to think, but it’s just struck me how paranoid my thoughts are, it’s almost like-

I look up, and my eyes land on the vents. The open vents! Fuck, there’s something in the air!

I clamber to my feet, move to the cabinets, ignore Usk yelling at my back. I remember, earlier, there was- I dodge a limb as it whips by. In one of the cabinets, earlier- there! I grab the pile of masks, and slip back and away before they get me.

I pull one of the full-face respirators on, taking a deep breath of purified air, and the change is immediate. It’s like I’ve been huffing carbon monoxide for days, and only now stepped outdoors- my mind is just clear again.

I skirt around to the other side of the room, giving the thing a wide berth. I reach them, and before Usk can lay into me, I shove against the door, taking the weight myself.

“Paranoia gas! Through the vents!” I yell, and thrust the respirators at them. “Put these on!”

For a moment, I think Usk is going to argue- now my head is clear, I process just how red-eyed and loopy he looks. But then Olivia pulls hers on, and he follows suit. Then all three of us are pushing, holding the door closed.

Olivia inhales sharply, slightly muffled by the mask. “I should have thought of that! Model Fours! Their gas, it makes people go crazy, makes them all turn on each other!”

“Never mind that, what are we going to do?” Usk cuts in, and he looks over at me. “What about that gun Lopez gave you? Fucking, shoot it?!”

"No can do," Olivia shakes her head. “It’s largely immune to small calibres, especially the tentacles- I think the thing’s actual head is still on the other side of the door. Impact or explosives would work better, or even a bigger gun, but- we don’t have those!”

I glance back, eyeing the minibar. “What about fire? Would that work?”

She hesitates, before answering. “It should?”

“Then I know what to do.” I nod, firmly, trying to look confident. “Hold the door for me, I just need a minute.”

Then I’m away, moving before they have a chance to argue. First things first, I have to reach the bar. I grab the duvet, and throw it at the tentacles- they rip it apart, buying me seconds, and I dart below. I pull out a couple bottles, hoping against hope that they’ll suit my needs, and then I’m scurrying back and out of the way.

I check what I grabbed, and, thank god- one of them’s rum. 120 proof.

“This is no time for a fucking drink!” Usk roars at me as I crack open the bottle, but I ignore him.

Next, I need a wick- my shirt will do, I think? Cotton, that’ll burn. I tear at the first tiny hole I can find. I rip a big strip away from my abdomen, and tear it off with my teeth. I pour the top quarter of the bottle out, then stuff the scrap into the neck as hurriedly as I can, looking up as I do so. Just need to hold for a moment longer, guys. A few seconds to soak, and then I can light it- wait, fuck, I need to light it!

Thankfully, Olivia’s caught on to what I’m doing. “My back pocket! I’m a smoker!”

I hurry over and reach into her pocket. She’s got a nice butt- wait, Jet. Focus. Lighter, I’ve got the lighter.

I step back, yell for the others to back up as much as they can, and light up my molotov cocktail. Even despite the circumstances, I can’t help but grin- pretty ironic, huh?

The others step back, and the tentacles surge. I aim for the big ugly centre mass of the thing that’s just coming into view, and pitch.

The bottle smashes, the flames catch; the monster rears back. The fireball itself is impressive, but what stuns me more is how easily the thing burns. Apparently, aliens are very flammable.

No time to think. I watch it retreat some, and the moment it stops, I run forward and throw my shoulder into the door, adding my mass to the others. The metal is hot. I don’t care. Hopefully the thing will burn up and die, or at least give up the hunt so we can get the door closed.

Any feelings of celebration, however, are quickly cut short, as I hear the distinctive thunk of the office doors slamming open. Something has just come into the office, and from the frankly disturbing sounds they’re making, it’s probably not Search and Rescue.