“You went to the other starship?” Hugh asks.
“I’ve seen the video footage. The entire mission is a sham. But it’s not just Fassbender you have to worry about. It’s the entire government. They’re trying to colonize space, Roy. They’re building an army.”
“An army you are bringing back to Earth,” he says. “What makes you so sure this isn’t the reaction they planned for.”
“He loves me,” I say.
All three of the men groan. Turin was right. All humans do is think about themselves. They can’t stop to think that maybe love could actually transcend all boundaries.
“I’ve been fucked with for too long out here. I can’t take this anymore,” Roy says.
“I say we take both of them,” Hugh mutters.
Roy glances at the Captain. “Something is wrong with him,” he says.
The Captain scratches the boils on his skin. “It really itches,” he says, nails cutting through dense blisters.
He twists, and I glance at the bubbles that have formed over his flesh. One pops, and he lets out a shrill whimper. “I’m going to die out here,” he cries.
No one can deny how alarming he looks. He’s injured, but without Turin, I won’t be able to help him. It’s pretty clear Hugh and Roy are against me, so all bets are off.
I just hope Turin can find me before Zakar or Fassbender.
Roy bends over the Captain to get a better look, but he quickly darts his nose away. “Jesus, you smell like death,” he says.
Halloway groans and pulls out a pistol. His eyes shift, turning a dark red. His mouth tremors, teeth growing inches.
“He’s turning into one,” I say.
“I’ll kill you if you touch me,” he growls, body mutating.
I stand and put my hands in the air. “Let me go. I’m not here to hurt you,” I tell them.
He twists his head in agony. His ligaments pop and extend over his growing set of bones.
He’s turning into a monster, something far worse than Zakar.
“You all left me to die,” he shouts, voice echoing throughout the forest.
“Guys!” I yell. “We need to get the fuck out of here.”
The monster fires his weapon, but luckily, his aim isn’t too sharp because his hand has started to… grow.
I grab Hugh’s wheelchair and push. “Follow me.”
One more shot rings out, and I feel the chill air whip as the bullet rockets near my ear. I keep running, but I brush my face to see if I’m hit.
“Everyone good?” I call out.
“If good means alive, I’m good,” Roy says.
Hugh exhales and looks up at me. “I’m sorry for turning on you back there.”
My feet hit the ground, mud splashing across my pants. “Are you sure you aren’t going to do it again?” I ask.
Roy cuts across the trail.
“Roy,” I say, attempting to stop him. “Swear on your life that you won’t turn on me if I get you out of this mess.”