“Finished,” he gasped.
“Well done.” Amethyst nodded at Tony and Clark. “Okay, gentlemen. It’s show time.” The pain in Tony’s head flared brighter. Wincing, he flexed his shoulders and tilted his head, cracking the joints in his neck. “What do we—”
A series of surprised shouts and screams interrupted him.
“Shit,” Tony said. “That’s Jennifer!”
Jennifer’s heart raced as she listened to the clicking sounds draw closer. At first, she had assumed it was a Clicker, but after a few seconds, she realized that this sound was different from the telltale noise the mutant crustaceans made with their pincers. It was softer. More sedate. Susan giggled again, and Jennifer clamped her hand over the woman’s mouth. Susan didn’t struggle. Instead, she snuggled close to Jennifer and remained still.
“What is it?” Wade’s eyes were wide. His voice was barely a whisper.
Jennifer shook her head.
“Talons,” he mouthed. Then, louder, “It’s a Dark One. One of them must have slipped past the others.”
“Be quiet,” Jennifer urged.
“I can’t. My fucking head—God, it hurts. Can’t seem to think straight.”
The clicking sound ceased. Jennifer glanced around, peering into the darkness. The tunnel had grown noticeably lighter. The source seemed to be the main chamber. She wondered what was happening. The gunshots had stopped, as had the wind, and she couldn’t hear Tony or his friends anymore.
“It must be over,” Wade said, after a moment. “Maybe our heads will stop hurting now.”
Jennifer hoped that he was right. Her temples throbbed as she fought against what felt like a raging migraine. She removed her hand from Susan’s mouth. Susan remained where she was, pressed up against Jennifer’s side. Wade sat huddled beside both of them. For the first time Jennifer was aware of the scent of their sweat; it clung to them like a miasma, and it was hard to tell whose body odor she was smelling. Probably mine, she thought.
Wade looked out around the rock. “Maybe we should join the others. What do you think? Would Tony be—”
He stopped in mid-sentence and made a surprised, clicking noise in the back of his throat. Slowly, Wade looked down at the ground. Jennifer followed his gaze…
…and screamed.
Wade’s index and middle fingers had been severed at the first knuckle by a diminutive Clicker no bigger than a housecat. The tiny creature feasted on the bloody digits while another scampered over Wade’s foot and slashed at his pants leg.
How could they be that small? Even as she thought it, Jennifer realized the truth.
“Oh my God,” Susan yelled, verbalizing Jennifer’s thoughts. “They’re babies. Oh, how cute.”
Four more of the infant Clickers—the smallest of which was no bigger than a human hand—skittered out of a crevice in the wall and crawled over Susan’s legs. She reached for them happily as Jennifer sprang to her feet.
Wade’s shock turned to shrieks as one of the baby Clickers disappeared beneath his pants leg and crawled up his leg. Before Jennifer could stop him, he turned and ran into the darkness, heading back the way they’d originally come, heedless of the danger. She glimpsed him beating at his knee as he fled.
“Oh God,” he wailed. “Oh, Jesus, it’s stinging the fuck out of me. It’s crawling toward my—”
His cries became garbled echoes. Seconds later, they were lost beneath Susan’s laughter. She tilted her head back and giggled as the Clickers reached eagerly for her breasts. Four sets of pink pincers hovered in the air—and then latched on.
Susan’s laughter turned to screams.
Jennifer screamed too as she ran toward the main chamber.
Right before Jennifer’s scream, Clark had been idly wondering what they’d do once Dagon had been stopped. Surely, there were more Dark Ones within this maze of tunnels and caves. They also had to contend with the Clickers that were still running rampant topside. Clark wasn’t sure if they had enough firepower to handle all those. They needed more reinforcements. They needed what they’d had in DC—they needed a battalion of soldiers with the latest in weapons and technology at their disposal.
When this is over and we get out of here, somebody needs to tell President Livingston to nuke this fucking island, Clark thought as he quickly ejected a magazine and slapped in a fresh one. He had no doubt that if they made it out, they would be leaving dozens, if not hundreds of Dark Ones behind. There were just too many of them.
“Finished,” Diamond groaned.
Amethyst nodded. “Well done.”