A scuffling came from the room on her right and something leapt through the doorway coming right at her. She barely had time to move, pivoting to the side as the thing collided with her, sending her flashlight bouncing away and knocking her to the floor. The thing, whatever it was, hit the wall with a resounding crash that arrested its momentum.
Stunned, she rolled over onto her back. Her ribs burned, and the wind was knocked out of her. That thing is stronger than Bishop. She looked back at it in time to register a vaguely human form, and then it was crouching to spring. She reached for her Mark 23, but she was an instant too slow. It attacked.
Her fighter’s instinct took over. Queen brought her knees to her chest and kicked out, catching it in midair and using its momentum to send it hurtling past her. No time to waste, she rolled over, sprang to her feet and dashed through the nearest doorway.
The room was packed with old iron bed frames. She thought to push one of them against the door, but before she could, the thing smashed through with such force that it sent her tumbling backward across the beds. Every sharp edge and broken spring seemed to tear and poke at her as she bounced once, twice, then slammed into the far corner. This time she had the presence of mind to take hold of her pistol as she flew through the air, and she came up ready to fire.
The dark, snarling shadow flew at her, and she put two silenced rounds in its chest. The snarl turned to a howl of rage and pain as the bullets tore into its body. It hit the floor and scrambled away.
She lost sight of it in the faint light, but she knew it was somewhere within this maze of iron. She heard a huff of breath and a faint scuffling on the floor, and sent a shot in that direction. The muzzle flash gave her a brief, strobe-like vision of a hairy, muscled figure coming at her from the side, teeth bared and eyes black as night.
She tried to dodge, but she was stuck in the corner with these damned beds all around. The collision was worse than any punch, kick or body slam she’d ever taken. Her head rang from the impact, and stars flashed in her eyes as she was dashed against the wall. She went limp for a moment, her Mark 23 falling from her hand. Bits of old, crumbling plaster rained down on her as her attacker rode her to the ground. She felt moist, hot breath on her neck, and nails—or claws—sank into her throat. She tucked her chin and struck the thing in the temple. It was like punching a brick wall.
Fighting with strength born of desperation, she caught it by the throat, holding it at bay just inches away from her. She drove her knee up between its legs, eliciting an angry snarl and forcing the thing to shift its weight. For all its power, it didn’t seem to know anything about fighting, and was instead bent on biting and ripping her apart. Taking advantage of the momentary imbalance, she set her foot on the floor and rolled the attacking creature off her. Her left hand went to her KA-BAR knife and she stabbed blindly at where she knew her enemy to be. She felt the blade bite deeply into flesh, and this time the roar was one of sheer pain. She yanked her knife back and stabbed again, but in an instant, the beast shoved away from her and was gone. It seemed to have melted, wraithlike, into the darkness.
Knife held out in front of her, she scrambled back toward the corner, feeling around for her pistol. Her hand fell upon cool metal and she clutched it like a life preserver as a loud clang of iron on iron rang out. She caught a glimpse of one of the heavy bed frames hurtling toward her, and she rolled to the side just as it smashed to the floor with a thundering boom, landing in the spot where she had lain a split-second before. She looked up, searching for the attack she was certain would be coming any moment now.
She heard a bestial growl, the soft pad of running feet, and a shadow covered the single window for an instant before the glass shattered as the creature hurtled through the window and out into the night. Queen scrambled to her feet and climbed through the cluttered room and over to the window. She looked out in time to catch a glimpse of a hairy foot, as her attacker, whatever he or it had been, fled around a corner. Two bullet wounds, a stab wound and a two-story fall, but the thing’s not dead. What in the hell has Deep Blue gotten me into?
One thing was for certain. She now knew what had killed the boy. Well, she didn’t actually know what the thing was, but she was certain it was the cause of death. But what, exactly, was it? Even fighting it at close quarters she’d been unable to make out much about it. Its form was manlike, and just like a man, it didn’t like taking a knee to the family jewels, but it seemed…more than human. She wished she’d gotten a good look at it. In any case, she was going to have to be extra careful. Where there was one of these creatures, there could be more.