The hammer was here. Once he died, they’d take it from his belt and use it to build another one of these machines. Unless he found a way to destroy the hammer.
There was no source of heat intense enough to melt the metal or even singe the handle. The most powerful thing in the room was the oddly shaped ring.
The area he guessed to be the control panel was completely alien. No buttons or levers. The only reason he suspected that the flat area activated the device was that he sensed a trickle of purpose coming from it that seemed to fit the bill.
Maybe if he slammed the hammer down on it hard enough, there’d be some kind of energy feedback that would shatter both objects. Or blow this place up, along with the Fractogasts who could use the hammer to build another portal.
It was a long shot, but it was the best option he could think of.
Marcus lifted the hammer to take out the panel when one of the ’Gasts screeched. He’d never heard the noise before, and it made him look up for a split second—just long enough to see two human shells dragging Simone’s unconscious body in by her boots.
Her dark hair fanned out behind her, sweeping through the muck on the tile. She was too pale, and a deep, bloody gash bisected her hairline.
The closest Fractogast picked her up as if she weighed no more than a doll. It held her limp body in one arm and wrapped its spindly fingers around her neck.
Its gaze swung back around, the message clear: If Marcus destroyed the device, the Fractogast would do the same to Simone.
5
Simone woke in the arms of the creature that had killed her husband. Maybe it wasn’t the specific one who’d drained Jeremy of his life, but a detail like that hardly mattered right now.
The Fractogast’s skin was rough, like heavy-duty sandpaper. There was no give, no cushion to its limbs, and they were cool to the touch. It gave off the faint smell of burning hair, and each small shift of its body made a low crunching sound that set her teeth on edge.
She’d never been this close to one before, and now that she was, she was reevaluating her initial opinion that they were beautiful creatures.
In a distant part of her brain that was just now waking up, she realized that she wasn’t afraid. Pissed off? Yes. Disgusted? Big yes. But there was no fear.
What could this creature do to her that was any worse than taking from her the man she loved, and killing their unborn child? Everything she loved had been stolen. All the thing could do now was kill her, and that was a pale comparison to the hell she’d already endured.
Her head throbbed. She felt the wet trickle of blood cooling along her hairline. A slow pitch and roll of nausea sloshed in her gut.
She tried to sit up to ease the queasiness, but the ’Gast’s grip on her throat kept her immobile.
“Simone?” came a voice she recognized.
Brighton. He was across the room on the platform, that hammer raised in threat.
“Hold on. I’ll get us out of here.” Confidence rang in his tone, making her laugh at the ridiculousness of his claim.
“Yeah, you get right on that. I’ll just be here, hanging out.”
The ’Gast holding her screeched, and gave her a hard shake. Her head nearly split apart with the sound.
“You leave her the fuck alone,” warned Brighton. “You hurt her and your precious machine will be in pieces before you can stop me.”
The machine—the one that was going to let more of these murderous Fractogasts crawl through. It was glowing and whirring like it had been fired up.
More people would die. More husbands. More children.
Like hell.
A fiery wave of anger burst in her chest, clearing away the fog that had left her passive and compliant. No way was she going to let these things win. Sure, maybe the idea of dying didn’t scare her that much, but what about that kid they’d saved? What about his mother? His father? They were afraid of death. They all had something to lose.
There were a lot of happy families out there, and Simone wasn’t going to let even one more of them get ripped apart by these creatures the way hers had.
She shifted in the Fractogast’s grip, moving just enough to reach the knife in her purse. She didn’t know if these things had a soft spot, but she was going to find out.
The ’Gast’s beady eyes were fixed on Brighton, like he was the only threat in the room. From somewhere across the space, she heard another of those grating screams, but the warning came too late.
She plunged her knife up, aiming for the ’Gast’s throat, right under its chin. The blade barely penetrated the skin, but it was enough of a shock to make the thing drop her like a hot rock.
Simone hit the ground hard. She tried to roll away, but the blow to the head had left her dizzy and clumsy. Instead of getting out of the range of those giant feet, she managed to make it only about two yards before she rolled right into the body of the old woman.