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on them. I’d killed a lot of Grays, but I knew I was quickly stabbing my way toward another kind of confrontation. At least one person in that room was going to try to stab back. He obviously was aware of the same thing, because he was killing as many Grays trying to get free of the tangle as I was. Gunfire erupted off in the distance.

I slit the throat of a Gray that was, repellent gel or not, beating the hell out of me in his pursuit of a quarry who didn’t smell just like him. I tried to stand, but a grasping hand latched hold of my coat. I stabbed him for his trouble. I had to get out of this pile, but the slippery mass of bodies made it almost impossible to move. I finally managed to pull my uninjured leg out from under a heap of bodies and was getting ready to test the other one when I heard the squeak of a floorboard. My assailant was standing, and I wasn’t. Advantage him. I was sure he wasn’t going to wait until I stood to even the score.

On one hell of a gambit, I tucked my elbows into my gut and held out the knife. I was a one-man phalanx. In his mad rush to attack first, he slipped on blood-covered skin, his out of control body did all the work for me as he skewered himself on the long blade. He cried out in surprise and agony as the knife dug deeper and deeper into his body. Feeling no pain at that moment, I stood up. I then pushed him backward, and he fell with skin on skin slap against the cold linoleum. My knees followed him to the ground. I was on top of him when he whimpered something.  I waited for him to speak, but there were only gurgles. In a fit of brutality and hate, I lashed out with the knife repeatedly until I had, myself, been satiated.  I reconciled who I used to be with who I had become. I was a fucking killer. I was okay with that.

***

The numbness I had been blessed with just moments earlier had passed. I stifled a cry as I kneeled. One of the wounds to my leg didn’t seem that bad – painful, but not that bad. The other, well, I wasn’t a doctor, but it was bleeding badly. I put the pack on the ground and rifled through it until I found what I was looking for. I packed the hole in my pants with as much gauze as I could and then took the duct tape and wrapped it tightly around the wound. I became dizzy for an instant. My stomach then alerted me via the esophagus that it needed to spill some of its contents. I wiped my mouth with my blood-covered hand.

After I regained my senses, I slung my rifle over my shoulder and opted instead to carry the butcher knife, as I made my way back through the community center, which was, to my surprise, empty.

Once outside, I craned my neck back towards the generators; besides the two tractor-trailers, everything looked normal, including the Ripsaw, which was a real concern. That was a bit of good news. I was glad Sam had the idea to hide it out in the open like that.

I turned my attention forward. Over the wind, I swore I heard crying. Fucking Quill, I thought. That it was in the direction of the boat dock caused a lump to form in my throat; that it was one of the most secluded places at Toolik only made sense to make it our designated rendezvous area. Duane said Toolik Lake was beautiful during the summertime. I’m not sure why I thought about him telling me that.

I slowly made my way between two of the numerous, small laboratory buildings dotting Toolik Station, the deep chill of the by then ferocious wind digging deep, as it whipped and churned through the narrow passageway. The wind carried something besides cold air. It ferried the sounds of pain and suffering. The first thing that came to mind was my friends, but that idea quickly faded as I listened more carefully. “Grays,” I uttered, not meaning to.

I was just about to move in the direction of the source of the wails when I noticed something out of place just up ahead. A faint humming sound could be heard. Then out of the shadows, a woman walked between two of the smaller laboratory buildings. She had a rifle slung over her left shoulder and something in her right hand. The way I saw it, I had two choices: either back up and hope to not get spotted while trying another path forward, or I could begin doing what I knew was required, which was to kill as many people necessary to save my friends.

It was an easy decision. I wasn’t wasting any more time.

The wind provided cover as I assailed my target. My leg pleaded with me to slow down, but I was on a mission. She still hummed even when I was close enough for her to feel my breath on the back of her neck. I was ready to grab her when she sensed something wrong. She turned just before I had a chance to slit her throat. Her eyes had only a moment to grow large as I adjusted my plan. I stabbed her as hard as I could in the chest.

People never die as quickly in real life as they do in movies. I thought she would just fall dead. Instead, she kicked and punched at point-blank range. Her head fell back, and I thought she was going to scream. I pulled her face close to mine. “Shhhh,” I uttered, looking her dead in the eyes. There was a moment of uncertainty, and I took advantage of it. I pulled her mouth in tight to the cheek the Gray

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