Zone 7 stayed quiet for too long.

  At first, the silence felt like a gift. My shoulders loosened a bit. My lungs stopped burning like they did in the Archive. My brain tried to pretend we had stepped into a cleaner chapter of life.

  But the longer the quiet went on, the more it started to feel like a held breath.

  Like the whole zone was waiting.

  My boots clicked softly on stone. The sound bounced between buildings and came back to me thin and lonely. The street was narrow here, maybe two lanes wide if you counted the shallow gutters on both sides. Tall facades leaned inward like they were trying to listen.

  I kept glancing at windows.

  Dark.

  Shuttered.

  Some had curtains still drawn like someone left while dinner was still cooking. One window had a hanging plant that swayed gently, the leaves dry and curled. I stared at it too long, and my chest tightened.

  People didn’t leave plants behind if they thought they were coming back.

  Lioran walked behind me, close enough that I could feel him without turning. He had stopped joking. That scared me more than his jokes ever did. When he did speak, it was in short pieces.

  My mind kept pulling up his mom’s face. Not the thing in the courtyard. Her actual face. The way she used to yell Lioran’s name from across the street. The way she waved like she was proud of him even when he acted like he hated it.

  I wanted to say something to him. Something that didn’t sound cheap.

  But every sentence I tried to form felt fake.

  Nysera led in front, metal rod held low but ready. Cirellan walked beside her, gaze flicking toward every alley mouth. She looked empty, like someone scooped her out and left the shell walking.

  Lucien stayed to my right. Close. Not crowding me. Just there, like he had quietly decided that if something happened, he would take the hit too.

  Vaelle and Vaeris walked behind Nysera, side by side. They looked like they belonged in Zone 7. Their uniforms matched the stone and the old lamps. But their eyes didn’t match.

  Their eyes were too steady.

  Not calm. Not fearless.

  Just… trained.

  I felt that thought and pushed it away. I didn’t want mysteries right now. I wanted my family.

  I wanted to wake up.

  Lucien whispered, “We keep moving.”

  “Where exactly is this route?” Nysera asked. Her voice had edge, like she was daring him to mess up.

  Lucien pointed ahead, toward a street that sloped downward. “Service access near the canal side. Old maintenance gate.”

  Vaelle spoke softly, almost too casually. “Near the East Spillway.”

  Lucien glanced at her. “Yeah.”

  Nysera shot the twins a look. “You know the spillway?”

  Vaeris smiled in an innocent way that didn’t quite land. “It’s a big place. People talk.”

  Nysera didn’t answer, but her grip on the rod tightened.

  We turned onto the sloping street.

  The air smelled faintly like water here. Not fresh water. Canal water. Old water that touched too many things.

  The street narrowed into an archway. Under it, the stone was damp. The sound of our steps changed, softer, like the ground had a thin film over it.

  We passed a metal sign bolted to the wall.

  ZONE 7 EAST WORKS

  AUTHORIZED ACCESS ONLY

  Under it, someone had scratched a message into the stone with something sharp.

  UPWARD TRANSFER IS LIFE

  It looked rushed.

  Like the person who wrote it didn’t have time for punctuation or hope.

  Lioran stared at the words and swallowed hard. He didn’t speak.

  I swallowed too.

  Upward.

  Everything in this city always pointed upward. Even in disaster. Even in death.

  We reached another small square, smaller than the fountain square earlier, more like a junction. Three paths split off. One led toward a line of buildings that ended in a wall. One led into a long alley. The third led to a raised walkway that ran along the side of a building, like an external corridor.

  Lucien paused and looked up.

  There was a metal staircase bolted to the side of the building, leading to the raised walkway. It was narrow, rusted at the edges.

  Nysera frowned. “We’re going up?”

  Lucien nodded. “The maintenance gate is on the elevated corridor. It was built above flood level.”

  That made sense.

  It also made my stomach clench, because elevated corridors meant fewer exits and harder falls.

  Nysera stepped onto the staircase first. Her boot hit the metal with a hollow clang.

  She froze.

  We all froze.

  Sound traveled far in an empty zone.

  Nysera mouthed a curse and climbed slower, placing her weight carefully.

  One by one, we climbed.

  The staircase shook slightly under the combined weight. Not enough to break, but enough to remind me that the city was old and tired.

  At the top, the walkway was about a meter wide. No rail on the outer edge, just a low stone lip maybe as tall as my shin. Beyond that, a drop to the street below. The street looked like a deep crack between buildings.

  I moved forward, feet careful, eyes flicking down once then refusing to do it again.

  I felt Lucien’s presence behind me.

  “You okay?” he whispered.

  I wanted to say yes.

  I wanted to be the kind of person who was okay.

  “I’m here,” I whispered back.

  Lucien didn’t push. He just said, “Same.”

  We moved along the walkway.

  The corridor ran between buildings like a thin bridge. On one side were doors, service doors with old hinges. On the other was open air.

  No one spoke above a whisper. Even Vaelle and Vaeris were quiet.

  Then we heard it.

  A sound from somewhere ahead.

  Not a scream.

  Not gunfire.

  Metal banging. Heavy, dull, rhythmic. Like something hitting a pipe or a gate over and over.

  Nysera froze and lifted her rod.

  Cirellan’s eyes widened.

  Lucien whispered, “Down.”

  We crouched behind the low stone lip.

  My heart slammed hard against my ribs. I could hear it in my ears.

  The metal banging continued.

  Then it stopped.

  Silence.

  That silence was worse than the banging.

  Nysera whispered, “Where is it coming from?”

  Lucien pointed ahead. “Near the maintenance gate. That’s our direction.”

  Lioran’s breath hitched. “So someone’s there.”

  Vaeris whispered, “Or something.”

  I forced myself to breathe through my nose. Slow. Quiet.

  We edged forward again, crouched low, using doorframes as cover.

  Then I saw movement.

  At the far end of the elevated corridor, where it curved around a building corner, three figures shuffled into view.

  They moved stiffly. Slow. Heads angled slightly as if listening.

  Their clothes were torn. One had a suit jacket hanging off one shoulder. One had no shoes.

  They weren’t running.

  They were claiming space.

  The first one stepped onto the walkway and dragged its foot, scraping metal.

  The sound made my teeth ache.

  Nysera whispered, “They’re here.”

  Cirellan’s voice came out thin. “How?”

  Lucien’s eyes tracked upward. “The upper service ramps connect across zones. They climbed.”

  I swallowed hard.

  So even an evacuated zone wasn’t empty for long.

  They didn’t need people to guide them. They just followed structure. Followed paths.

  Followed the way the city was built.

  Nysera glanced at the street below, then back at the figures. “We go around?”

  Lucien shook his head. “No time. If we go back down, we risk meeting more. We pass them or we stall and they fill the corridor.”

  Lioran whispered, “Pass them how?”

  Nysera gave him a look like, Are you serious?

  Then she whispered, “Quiet and fast.”

  We backed away from the edge of the curve, pressing ourselves into the door recesses.

  The corridor had service doors every three meters. Each door had a small overhang. Enough to hide a person if you were careful.

  The three infected kept moving forward.

  Slow.

  One of them bumped into the stone lip and didn’t react except to turn its head.

  The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  Its eyes were cloudy.

  Its mouth hung open.

  I could smell it as it got closer. Wet rot and old blood.

  My stomach turned.

  The first one passed our recess.

  Its shoulder brushed the doorframe, and it didn’t care.

  It moved like pain meant nothing.

  The second one paused.

  It turned its head toward us.

  My whole body went rigid.

  It took a step closer to the recess.

  Nysera’s rod lifted slightly, ready to strike.

  Then a loose piece of metal somewhere above clinked as it swayed in the wind.

  The second one’s head snapped toward the sound and it shuffled away.

  I exhaled so hard my lungs hurt.

  The third one shuffled past.

  We waited until their footsteps faded forward.

  Lucien whispered, “Now. Move.”

  We rose and moved fast, half running but careful not to stomp.

  The corridor curved left, then right.

  Beyond the curve, we saw the maintenance gate.

  It was a thick metal door set into the building side, with a round wheel handle like something from a ship. Above it, a sign read:

  EAST SPILLWAY MAINTENANCE ACCESS

  A ladder ran down beside it into shadow, disappearing into an opening in the stone.

  Lucien slowed. His eyes flicked over the door. “This is it.”

  Nysera moved first, grabbing the wheel handle.

  It didn’t budge.

  She tried again, putting her shoulder into it.

  Nothing.

  Locked.

  Nysera cursed under her breath. “Of course.”

  Lucien stepped forward, pulling a small keycard from his coat. He slid it along a panel beside the door.

  The panel blinked red.

  ACCESS DENIED.

  Lucien’s face tightened. “It’s offline.”

  Vaelle spoke softly. “Mechanical latch.”

  Lucien glanced at her again. “Yeah.”

  Nysera snapped, “Can we open it or not?”

  Lucien looked at me. “Can you pick it?”

  My hands still shook from Saint Aurex. From the courtyard. From the screams.

  But my bag was still on my shoulder. My kit still inside.

  I swallowed. “Yeah.”

  I knelt by the latch panel. The lock had an old mechanical core with a dead electronic overlay. I could see the keyway. Narrow. Stiff.

  I pulled my pick out.

  My fingers were cold and slick with sweat.

  Behind us, the corridor was too quiet.

  I didn’t like quiet anymore.

  “Rafa,” Lioran whispered, voice barely there. “Hurry.”

  “I’m trying.”

  I worked the pick carefully, feeling for the pins.

  Click.

  Not yet.

  My heart hammered. I forced my breathing slower.

  Click.

  I felt one pin set.

  A faint scrape came from behind us.

  Metal on stone.

  My stomach dropped.

  Nysera whispered harshly, “They’re coming back.”

  Lucien turned, scanning the curve.

  I couldn’t look. I couldn’t stop.

  Click.

  The lock resisted.

  My pick slipped and scraped the metal, making a tiny sound.

  Nysera hissed at me like it was my fault the world was ending.

  I swallowed and tried again.

  Then, from the curve, something moved fast.

  Not slow.

  Fast.

  A figure burst into view, sprinting down the elevated corridor like it had been waiting for this moment.

  It didn’t shuffle.

  It ran.

  Its limbs pumped. Its head angled forward. Its mouth open.

  And it was coming straight at us.

  For a second, my brain refused to process it.

  Because everything we’d seen moved slow.

  This thing moved like a human who forgot how to be human.

  Lucien’s voice cut sharp. “Down!”

  Nysera raised her rod.

  Cirellan stumbled back, eyes wide.

  Vaeris pulled Vaelle behind her without thinking, fast and clean.

  The runner closed the distance in seconds.

  Nysera swung.

  The rod hit its shoulder with a loud crack.

  It barely slowed.

  It grabbed the rod with one hand and yanked, dragging Nysera forward.

  Nysera lost balance for half a heartbeat.

  Lucien lunged, grabbing her waist and pulling her back.

  The runner snapped its jaw toward Lucien’s arm.

  Lucien twisted away just in time. Teeth grazed his sleeve, ripping fabric but not skin.

  My chest seized.

  I wanted to scream.

  Rafa, move, my brain yelled at me.

  But my knees felt locked.

  The runner turned toward me.

  Its eyes were cloudy too, but sharper somehow, like it could focus.

  It lunged.

  I fell backward, hands scraping stone.

  Its face came down toward mine, mouth wide.

  I smelled it. Hot rot and blood.

  I threw my arms up instinctively.

  Then Vaelle appeared beside me, moving too quick for a junior who was supposedly just a scared kid.

  She slammed something heavy into the runner’s side. A metal toolbox she’d grabbed from the walkway recess, I didn’t even see her pick it up.

  The runner staggered just enough.

  Lucien grabbed my collar and yanked me up.

  “Pick. Now!” he snarled.

  I scrambled back to the latch, hands shaking so hard I could barely hold the pick.

  Nysera shoved the runner back with her shoulder, rod retrieved, swinging again and again.

  The runner dodged one swing, almost like it knew what was coming.

  Nysera’s eyes widened, furious. “Oh, you’re different.”

  She swung low, hitting its knee.

  The runner stumbled, then recovered fast.

  Lioran grabbed a broken piece of metal railing that had come loose and slammed it down on the runner’s head.

  The metal bent. The runner didn’t drop.

  Lioran screamed, “Why won’t you die!”

  The runner grabbed Lioran’s forearm.

  Lioran froze in terror.

  The runner yanked him forward like he was weightless.

  Its mouth snapped toward Lioran’s wrist.

  I felt my stomach drop out of my body.

  Then Vaeris stepped in.

  She didn’t scream.

  She didn’t swing wildly.

  She placed her foot on the runner’s ankle and pushed sideways in a precise motion.

  The runner’s leg twisted. It lost balance for a moment, enough that its jaw missed.

  Nysera slammed the rod into its temple.

  Lucien grabbed Lioran and yanked him back.

  Lioran stumbled into me, shaking.

  I forced myself to focus on the lock.

  Click.

  A pin set.

  Click.

  Another.

  The runner snarled, a low sound that didn’t sound like anything living.

  Nysera was breathing hard, sweat on her forehead.

  Cirellan had backed toward the wall, hands over her mouth.

  I could see her shaking.

  Lucien shouted, “Rafa!”

  “Almost!”

  The runner charged again, this time toward me.

  Nysera moved to block it.

  The runner hit her shoulder and drove her back.

  Nysera’s heel slipped on the damp stone. She fell hard, rod clattering away.

  The runner lunged down toward her face.

  Nysera raised her arms.

  Lucien threw himself forward, shoving the runner sideways.

  They hit the low lip together.

  Lucien’s body went half over the edge.

  For one sick second, I thought he was going to fall.

  I grabbed his coat with my left hand.

  I held on like my life depended on it.

  Because it did.

  Lucien’s fingers clawed at the stone.

  Nysera scrambled backward on hands and knees, eyes wide.

  The runner writhed, trying to bite Lucien’s shoulder.

  Lucien grimaced, jaw clenched, and punched it in the face.

  It barely reacted.

  “Rafa!” Lucien gasped, voice strained. “Now!”

  My fingers were numb.

  I twisted the pick hard.

  The lock finally gave with a heavy thunk.

  The wheel handle loosened.

  I spun it.

  The maintenance door swung inward.

  “Inside!” I shouted.

  Nysera grabbed her rod and stumbled through.

  Cirellan ran in, grabbing Vaelle’s sleeve to pull her.

  Vaeris followed, pushing Lioran ahead of her.

  Lucien was still at the edge, fighting the runner.

  I pulled him with everything I had.

  He slammed into the doorway, stumbling.

  The runner lunged after him.

  Lucien kicked it in the chest.

  It hit the threshold, arms reaching.

  Nysera slammed the door.

  Metal hit metal.

  The runner’s fingers scraped the gap, then disappeared as the latch locked.

  The door shook once. Twice.

  Then the pounding started.

  We didn’t wait.

  Lucien pointed to the ladder shaft. “Down. Now.”

  The ladder ran into darkness, bolted into stone.

  We climbed down fast.

  The shaft was tight, maybe a meter across. The air was damp. The smell of canal water was stronger here.

  My hands slipped once on a rung slick with moisture.

  My heart jumped.

  I tightened my grip and kept going.

  We reached the bottom and stepped onto brick flooring.

  A tunnel stretched forward, curving slightly. Arched ceiling. Old brickwork. Water lines stained along the walls like this place had been flooded more times than it could count.

  The floor sloped downward gradually.

  Thin water ran along the center channel, ankle deep at first, then deeper further in.

  Our footsteps splashed quietly.

  The sound echoed.

  That scared me.

  Sound traveled like a message here.

  Lucien whispered, “No talking unless needed.”

  Nysera muttered, “Great. We’re in a horror tunnel.”

  Lioran whispered back, “You’re the horror tunnel.”

  Nysera glared at him, then her eyes softened just a little. “Shut up and walk.”

  Lioran did shut up.

  But I saw his hands shaking. I saw his jaw tight.

  He was trying so hard not to think about his mom.

  Not to think about the runner’s mouth near his wrist.

  Not to think about how close he came to turning.

  I felt sick. I felt angry. I felt scared.

  Mostly, I felt tired.

  We moved deeper.

  The tunnel narrowed.

  On the left, the brick wall bulged slightly, like the structure had shifted. On the right, a low ledge ran along the wall, about half a foot wide, then dropped into the central channel.

  The water deepened to shin level, then knee level.

  Lucien stopped and pointed ahead.

  A section of the floor had collapsed into the channel, leaving a gap where water rushed through.

  To cross, we had to use a narrow beam wedged across the gap. It looked like an old maintenance support, maybe wood reinforced with iron bands.

  It was slick with algae.

  It was also the only way.

  Nysera whispered, “That’s not safe.”

  Lucien replied, “Nothing is safe.”

  He went first.

  He stepped onto the beam slowly, arms out for balance, boots placed carefully. The beam flexed slightly under his weight.

  My stomach tightened.

  He reached the other side and crouched, holding his hand out.

  Nysera went next, faster than I expected. She was angry, and her anger made her brave.

  Halfway across, her boot slipped slightly on the algae.

  She froze.

  Lucien’s hand shot forward and caught her wrist.

  Nysera whispered, “Don’t let go.”

  Lucien replied, teeth clenched, “I’m not.”

  He pulled her across.

  Nysera hopped off the beam and exhaled hard, laughing once, but it wasn’t happy. It was a sound that said, I almost died.

  Cirellan went next.

  She stepped onto the beam like she was walking on glass.

  Her eyes were wide and fixed on the far wall like she couldn’t handle looking down.

  Halfway across, her foot slipped.

  She made a small sound.

  Nysera reached out from our side. “Cire!”

  Lucien held his hand out from the other.

  Cirellan froze, arms shaking, then slid her foot forward and made it.

  When she hopped off, she leaned against the wall, breathing fast.

  Vaelle went next, then Vaeris.

  They moved with a smoothness that didn’t match the fear they claimed to have.

  Vaelle’s arms stayed steady. Vaeris’s steps were clean.

  I noticed.

  I didn’t say anything.

  Then it was Lioran’s turn.

  He stared at the beam like it was a grave.

  “I can’t,” he whispered.

  “Yes you can,” Nysera said, voice sharp but not cruel.

  Lioran shook his head. “I’m going to slip.”

  Vaelle stepped closer. “Look at me.”

  Lioran blinked at her.

  Vaelle pointed to the beam. “One foot in front. Then the next. Don’t look down. Look at the wall.”

  Her voice was calm, clear, like she had taught someone how to do this before.

  Lioran swallowed and stepped onto the beam.

  Halfway across, his foot slid.

  He yelped, arms flailing.

  My heart jumped into my throat.

  He windmilled and caught himself, but his balance was gone. His knee bent awkwardly.

  He lurched forward and managed to make it to the other side.

  But when his foot hit brick, he stumbled and went down hard.

  His ankle twisted under him.

  He screamed, not loud, but sharp enough to echo.

  He clamped his hand over his mouth instantly, eyes wide with fear at the sound he made.

  Nysera hissed, “Idiot.”

  But she dropped to her knees beside him anyway.

  Lucien lifted Lioran’s pant leg carefully.

  The ankle was swelling already.

  Lioran’s eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry.”

  Nysera muttered, “Don’t apologize. Just don’t die.”

  I crossed the beam last.

  My boots were wet now. The beam felt slick under my soles. I kept my eyes forward like Vaelle told Lioran.

  When I stepped off on the other side, my legs shook.

  Lucien looked at me. “You good?”

  I shook my head once. “No.”

  Lucien gave a tired nod. “Same.”

  We pressed on.

  Lioran limped, supported by Nysera on one side and Vaeris on the other. Vaeris didn’t complain. She adjusted her pace perfectly to match Lioran’s uneven steps.

  Cirellan walked behind them, silent, face pale.

  We passed old side alcoves with rusted lantern hooks. Some had collapsed crates. One had a faded warning painted on brick:

  FLOOD FLOW CONTROL

  DO NOT OBSTRUCT

  I looked at it and felt a chill.

  Flood flow.

  Water was everywhere in this city’s veins.

  The tunnel sloped upward after a while.

  The water lowered again, back to ankle depth.

  We reached a heavy hatch door at the end, bolted with a manual handle.

  Lucien tried it.

  It budged.

  He twisted and pushed.

  The hatch opened outward with a groan, and fresh air rushed in, cold and wet.

  We stepped out into a pier area.

  My heart lifted for one second.

  Then it sank.

  The pier was empty.

  Not abandoned like Zone 7.

  Empty like something had been scraped clean.

  A wide stretch of dark water lay ahead, cutting across the view like a black sheet. The canal basin was bigger than I expected, maybe thirty meters across at the narrowest point, more at the center. On the far side, Zone 6 buildings rose, tall and silent.

  Smoke drifted faintly somewhere in the distance.

  And there, across the water, a light flickered in a window.

  One small warm square.

  Then it vanished.

  I stared at the water.

  No boats.

  No ferries.

  No soldiers.

  No evacuation platform.

  The dock planks were cracked and damp. Ropes hung loose from posts like they had been untied. A metal ladder dipped into the water, but it led nowhere.

  Lucien stepped forward, scanning. “There should be a boat lock here.”

  Nysera snapped, “Well, there isn’t.”

  Cirellan whispered, “Nothing.”

  Vaelle moved to the edge and looked down. “Not even a raft.”

  Vaeris pointed to a half-sunken platform nearby, bobbing lightly. “That.”

  It wasn’t a boat. It was a broken piece of dock, maybe two meters long, waterlogged and useless.

  Lioran’s voice cracked, exhausted. “So… we ran for nothing.”

  My chest tightened.

  I wanted to punch the air. I wanted to scream.

  Instead, I forced myself to breathe.

  Lucien stepped along the pier, checking crates, looking under a tarp, pulling at a locked storage box until it rattled uselessly.

  Nysera limped over to a small utility cabinet and yanked it open.

  Empty.

  No tools. No ropes. No flotation devices.

  Just dust.

  Lucien’s face looked hollow. “They cleared it.”

  Cirellan’s eyes narrowed. “Who?”

  Lucien didn’t answer.

  We were not doing mysteries yet.

  But the question hung there anyway like fog.

  Nysera pointed at the water. “Even if we had a raft, would it matter? Look.”

  I followed her finger.

  Something floated near the far bank.

  A body.

  Bloated and pale, drifting slowly along the surface like a broken log.

  Then another.

  Then a cluster of debris with something tangled in it.

  My stomach turned.

  The water wasn’t a barrier.

  It was a conveyor.

  The bodies drifted closer, pushed by a slow current.

  One bumped against the pier post with a soft thud.

  Another drifted closer.

  The face was turned downward, hair floating like seaweed.

  Vaeris whispered, “Don’t touch it.”

  Lioran whispered, “Nobody was going to.”

  His voice tried to sound sarcastic, but it came out tired and scared.

  Lucien’s jaw clenched. He looked behind us, back toward the hatch.

  A faint sound echoed from the tunnel.

  Thud.

  Then another.

  Metal scraping.

  My heart jumped.

  “They followed,” Nysera whispered.

  Cirellan’s voice trembled. “How?”

  Lucien’s eyes were fixed on the hatch. “They heard us.”

  My stomach clenched.

  Sound.

  The tunnel carried it.

  We stood on the pier, trapped between water that carried bodies and a tunnel that carried death.

  Lucien moved fast to the pier edge and scanned for anything that could float.

  A barrel.

  A boat hook.

  A rope long enough to pull something.

  Nothing.

  Vaelle crouched and grabbed a plank, testing its weight. “We can lash.”

  “With what?” Nysera snapped.

  Vaelle blinked in a way that looked innocent. “Rope?”

  Nysera gestured wildly at the empty pier. “There is no rope!”

  Vaelle looked around like she was surprised. “Then wire. Cloth.”

  Lucien exhaled hard. “We don’t have time to weave a boat out of clothes.”

  Cirellan whispered, “We can’t go back.”

  I looked at the water again.

  A body bumped against the dock, closer now.

  Its shoulder hit the wood and spun it slightly.

  I could see its cheek. Swollen. Gray.

  Lioran backed up, limping, eyes wide.

  “I can’t do this,” he whispered.

  Nysera grabbed his collar and pulled him behind her. “You’re doing it.”

  The body drifted closer.

  It brushed the pier edge.

  Its hand rose slightly with the motion of the water, fingers bumping wood.

  Then the fingers curled.

  Not because of water.

  Because of muscle.

  My breath caught.

  The head lifted slowly.

  Water streamed from its face.

  Its eyes opened.

  Cloudy.

  Wrong.

  And it turned toward us like it could smell us.

  Nysera raised her rod instinctively.

  Lucien stepped in front of Cirellan.

  Vaelle and Vaeris moved without speaking, positioning themselves slightly apart like they were making space for angles.

  I stared at the thing in the water, my chest tight with terror and anger.

  This was supposed to be the answer.

  Zone 5.

  Water.

  A foothold.

  Instead, we had reached another edge of the same nightmare.

  The thing’s hands gripped the pier.

  It pulled.

  Slow, but strong.

  Wood creaked.

  And from behind us, the tunnel hatch shuddered with another heavy thud.

  We were out of time.