Trigger Read Free Page A

hung in the balance, I’d come for him. I just wished he were the damsel in distress, not me.
    Brutus growled. I froze. A growl meant one thing: Something’s coming.
    I faced the pipe; the water was on my right hand, a wall on my left, and the dog stood beneath me, ears pricked forward, hackles raised. I glanced up and swore I saw the necro’s ghostlight splashing on the walls, moving from pillar to pillar. Deep blue ghostlight.
    Scissorclaw light .
    In a flash, I wrapped my free leg around the rope, then used my core to reach up and grab my calves. The trap’s noose circled my ankle and might’ve broken it if not for the thick leather boots protecting the joint. Wincing, I fumbled for the multi-tool in my ammo pouch—an old Leatherman with a tiny-toothed saw. I skipped my hunting knife, not wanting to fall with it in hand.
    Brutus growled again. A sibilant, low hiss layered itself over the slosh of water. I flicked open the saw and laid its teeth against the rope, my muscles aching, my heart screaming against my ribs. Palms sweating. The rope slit easy, filaments snapping under my saw, unraveling in my hand.
    This will hurt like a mother—
    The rope snapped. My stomach lurched in free fall, weightless, before my back slammed into the walkway below me. The hit knocked my senses and comm loose.
    The necro shrieked, a high note played on rotting violin strings.
    Gun . I scrambled to all fours as Brutus leapt in front of me, head down, his growl throttling. A blur of blue ghostlight set fire to my peripheral vision . Lunging forward, I wrapped my hand around my gun’s grip, rolled onto my back, and leveled my gun at the monster’s chest.
    I’d seen scissorclaws in diagrams and on autopsy tables, flat and dead—but terror gored me in the chest as the nightmare ran toward me, all rippling muscle and claws shaped like open shears. Every second stretched out too long—the necro’s maw split open in another roar, teeth sticking like pikes from its gums, its tongue lashing out like a whip. Huge tusks protected the necro’s jaw, and I couldn’t tell where the monster’s neck ended and its head began. It’s too big , I told myself as my finger tightened around the trigger. It’s too damn big to kill with a .45!
    The necro knocked Brutus aside with one swipe of its massive claws, so hard the dog hit the tunnel wall.
    I pulled the trigger. The gunshot deafened, bullet slamming into the scissorclaw’s chest. My ears rang as I fired a second time. Undaunted, the necro thrust one set of blood-blackened claws at me. I threw myself to the side, dodging dismemberment; the necro’s claws screeched on the concrete. The monster slashed sideways, nearly nicking my jugular—I rolled and trained my sights on its torso.
    Before I could pull the trigger again, rifle fire erupted. The scissorclaw’s shoulder split open under fire, spattering blood all over me, exposing its sinew and bone. With a shriek, the necro swung the claws of the opposite arm around, ready to disembowel me. I fired, but the bullet didn’t stop the claws’ trajectory toward my gut.
    With a snarl, Brutus leapt and sank his teeth into the necro’s arm. His weight threw the scissorclaw off balance. When the creature tried to shake Brutus off, I lowered my sights and fired a bullet into the necro’s knee to avoid hitting the dog.
    Shrieking, the necro shucked off Brutus and dove into the channel. The silty water swallowed the necro’s ghostlight.
    â€œC’mon, Micheline!” Ryder shouted, his voice distorted by the ringing in my ears.
    Pushing to my feet, I whistled for Brutus and ran. The dog sprinted after me, his headlamp throwing light all over the room. Upon reaching Ryder, I grabbed Brutus by his vest and guided him into the pipe.
    â€œCall the bloody dog,” Ryder said into his comm. Brutus took off running as his name bounced down the pipe. Ryder cocked his