"The ship was easy to track. It eventually had to dock for repairs to its crippled landing gear. When it did, the mechanic on site contacted us, sending a tip-off about two possible poachers after he spotted the Grizmonger cub in the holding bay.”

  Nick noticed the sullen, misty gaze on Tiffany’s face when Zurii mentioned poachers. He gently placed his hand over hers, watching her vacant stare linger in her teacup. Slowly, her eyes refocused. She smiled faintly, tilting her head sideways, craning down towards his, giving him a gentle nudge, nuzzling him with her eyes closed.

  A tear dripped from her face onto his hand on top of hers. He leaned his head into her, returning her nudge, then sat up and wiped her eyes as he looked down at his tea and the small biscuit-cookie hybrid he’d been dipping into it.

  On its own, it had an odd, plain crunch—neither sweet nor salty—but soaked in the gray tea, it took on a muted, satisfactory sweetness. Zurii took a sip of her drink, her gaze made it look like she was elsewhere as she gently swirled her cup.

  "That's when things started to escalate..." Zurii spoke, taking a sip.

  ***********************************************************************************************

  *Crunch-crunch-crunch-crunch*

  The only sound in the dead silent forest was the crunching of packed snow under the children’s feet as they tromped through the forest to the usual spot where they picked berries for their favorite winter dessert, a jam they liked to make with their mom to go on her freshly baked, freshly toasted bread.

  “Sissy, Dad said we shouldn’t be out here.”

  Her younger brother huffed with a pout as they trudged through the snow.

  “Oh—you’re being a silly willy. We’re just going to hunt for snow berries.”

  “Yeah, but Daddy…” Her brother protested. His sister wasn’t hearing any of it.

  “Oh—foo, you know Daddums worries about everything. Now not another word unless it’s you found a bushel of berries so we can make it back home before him and Mommy make it back from the mill.”

  “Fine—but I don’t like it…” Linda smiled at her brother, who stood pouting with his arms crossed.

  “…You don’t have to. Big Sissy will protect you.”

  She replied, picking up a short sword-sized stick poking up out of the snow. She elbowed her brother with a small grin, pointing to a patch of juicy white berries poking out of a squat shrub next to some tall pines.

  “This is great, Sissy! This will be more than enough to bring home to Mommy and Daddy!”

  The small brother exclaimed as he stuffed everything he could into his satchel.

  He looked around at the hazy sky. A gentle breeze picked up slowly, steadily, then died. A couple of flurries began to fall as the wind picked up again, starting to whistle through the tall timbers.

  “Um… Sissy, I—I think we need to go home now.”

  The small child said, looking up at his sister.

  She paused, looking up as well, watching the tall trees sway more violently as the flurries began to fall heavier, steadier.

  “We need to head back now. Another blizzard is coming in fast…”

  The older sister looked worried, but stayed strong as she dumped what she’d gathered into her brother’s leather satchel.

  She grabbed him with one hand, stick in the other, practically dragging the small child behind her as she ran the best she could in her floral embroidered dress her mother had made her. The mounting wind and deepening snow made it hard to move; what had once been knee-deep was now steadily inching toward thigh-high.

  By the time it grew so thick they couldn’t tell which way they were going, the eldest noticed a cave along what she thought was the way back to the village.

  “Oh! Lookies! We can duck off over here till the storm dies back down in a few minutes!”

  She could barely hear her brother over the voice in her head telling her to find shelter, and quick, layered beneath the shrill sound of wind whipping the tall trees like cattails.

  “Sissy! Can we just go home? Mommy and daddy are going to be worried about us!”

  His voice fell silent in the snow-muted space as she managed to drag both of them into the cave. Exhausted, she tried to catch her breath as she released her brother onto the cave floor.

  “Sissy, I think this is a bad idea… what’s that funny smell? It stinks like Auntie Hilda’s Chicklens…”

  His sister rolled her eyes as he climbed up to sit on a nearby rock.

  “You know, as much as you’re right, that’d hurt Auntie Hilda’s feelings. She puts her heart and soul into that dish, even if it smells like reaver feet…”

  Her heart rate slowed as the adrenaline faded. She looked around the cave, and then it hit her. She recoiled, wrinkling her nose as she finally caught it.

  The scent her brother’s overly sensitive nose had noticed before she did.

  *Thud—thud—thud—thud*

  The two turned toward the long, heavy pads that shook the ground with each step.

  Then they saw the glow of a pair of golden eyes, each the size of a large child’s ball, one a child would need both hands to hold. It slowly padded toward them, a low, rumbling growl emanating from its core as it approached the cave opening, its large slitted eyes clearly not pleased by more unwelcome guests.

  “Sissy… I want mommy and daddy…” The younger brother squeaked.

  ***********************************************************************************************

  *Hours/cycles go by*

  The mill closed for another day as workers filed out. Some headed to their cottages, others to the shops before closing time. The rest—those who had truly had a long day—visited The Tilted Pint for the evening before the twin moons of Sans rose over the snow- and pine-covered horizon.

  “Hey, Hans! Wanna go for a pint?” one of the workers called out.

  Hans slowed as his wife continued down the narrow, cobblestone road toward their cottage.

  “Maybe tomorrow, Jonus. I promised Lilly I’d help her make bread with the kids when we get home,” he said, waving to his friend as he turned and hurried after her.

  “Fine— you two lovebirds have fun. I’ll have a warm stool waiting if you change your mind.”

  Hans waved over his shoulder as his friend ducked through the swinging double doors. He wrapped an arm around Lilly’s as they hurried on together, both exhausted from the long shift, neither particularly in the mood to bake or cook.

  But a promise had been made to the children—and they both intended to keep it.

  Lilly and Hans both looked on, caught somewhere between disbelief and dread, when they came to the front of the old, heavy, lacquered, wooden-framed cottage. The frosted, diamond-pane leaded windows were dark—instead of the warm flame-licks from the cobblestone fireplace dancing through the diamond-shaped glass.

  *Bam.*

  The heavy, steel-belted wooden door slammed open as Hans rushed inside, with his wife Lilly close behind him.

  "Linda—? Frans—?"

  Hans tore through the house, checking all their usual hiding places—the laundry hamper, the pantry, the stack of logs by the back door, the closets, even under the bed. All empty.

  Hans ran to the fireplace mantel and grabbed his lever-action rifle, slinging the ammo pouch over his shoulder as he donned his heavy fur coat.

  “I’m going to check up north where they usually pick berries,” he said, fastening the pouch to his belt. “Stay here in case they come back and I’m still gone. I’m taking Jonus’s tracker—call me on the radio if you need anything.”

  Lilly looked at her husband with tears in her eyes. She hugged him tightly and nodded.

  “I’ll call you if I see them before you,” she said softly. “I just hope they’re safe.”

  “As do I, Lilly… as do I.”

  *Thump.*

  Hans shut the heavy door behind him and hurried outside toward the vehicle storage. He found Jonus’s red?cabbed tracker—a utility vehicle similar to an old Earther farm truck, but fitted with treads instead of tires for the heavy snow and harsh conditions.

  He climbed into the cab, pressed his thumb to the panel, and the old engine fired to life. He set the rifle down on the seat next to him and waited for the block to warm before he cranked the heat all the way up, defogging the windows as he headed north toward the mountains.

  Dusk passed as the twin moons eased higher, the distant sun already melted below the horizon. The tracker pushed through the snow as it began to fall steadily. He flicked the headlights and windshield wipers on to combat the flurries, then tapped the crystal inlay on the dash, bringing up his location.

  He zoomed the map out, scrolling ahead and marking where the kids usually went to pick berries. Snow thickened as he drove through the darkening night.

  “Hans, can you read me?”

  He reached over and grabbed the squawk box, giving the side button a gentle squeeze as the mic chirped in response.

  “Hey, Lilly. Any good news?” Hans asked, a tinge of hope in his gut at his wife calling.

  “No— I was hoping you’d have found them by now…”

  Silence mixed with static fell over the tracker cab.

  “I’m almost to their secret spot. I’ll let you know when I find them. Love you, Lilly. Over.”

  She didn’t respond.

  She stood by the radio, setting the squawk box down as she fidgeted with the hem of her dress absentmindedly.

  *Drrrrrrk.*

  The wooden chair dragged heavily across the stone floor as Lilly got up, walking to the fireplace to stoke some of the unburned logs as she silently prayed for her family’s safety.

  “I can’t say enough how much I hate these blasted snowstorms,” Hans grumbled to himself, hitting the switch on the instrument panel and bringing the spotlights mounted on the roof of the cab to life, flooding the forest with light.

  *Twitch—twitch.*

  The Grizmonger’s long, pointed ears slowly sprang upright at the rumble of machinery reverberating off the cave walls. A low growl emanated from her as she unfurled her body from around her deceased cub. She leaned forward, lowering her front half and lifting her broad rear into the air in a long, deliberate stretch. Her sinewy purple?and?black striped tail twitched in irritation, the light?blue paintbrush tuft at its tip bristling as she yawned and plodded toward the cave’s mouth, her massive frame brushing the stone walls as she exited.

  Her golden eyes scanned the woods, her vision piercing the darkness as though it were day. Her ears swiveled and twitched toward the noisy machinery rolling through the forest—closer than she would like any uninvited guest to her home.

  With a sudden burst of force, she erupted from the cave. Large trees and shrubs snapped and uprooted in her wake, boulders torn free from the earth as she plowed forward without thought, drawn only toward the sound.

  “What the heck…?” Hans muttered as he eased the tracker to a stop.

  The little bobblehead figure on the dash kept dancing even after the vehicle stilled. Hans frowned, then felt it—

  a low vibration beneath him that had nothing to do with the engine.

  He grabbed his rifle and climbed out of the cab, snow crunching under his boots as he worked the lever to chamber a big?game round. The vibration grew steadier, heavier — like something large moving through the forest without caring what stood in its way.

  Hans turned slowly, scanning the tall trees, trying to place the sound. Snow drifted down from shaking branches. Somewhere ahead, wood cracked.

  Then he noticed the debris strewn above the tree line.

  Splintered limbs. Torn shrubs. All of it tossing through the air, heading straight for him.

  “Oh… I’m not liking this,” he breathed. “Crap.”

  An uprooted tree came down hard in front of the tracker, missing him by inches. It slammed into the snow, narrowly avoiding the engine bay. Hans stared at it, heart hammering as the reality of how close he’d come to being crushed by a once?airborne tree settled in.

  The vibration deepened.

  That was enough to break him from his daze. He scrambled back into the still?running cab and threw the tracker into reverse. The treads spun, biting into the snow as he tore back the way he’d come, a cloud of white kicking up behind him as the forest continued to shake in pursuit.

  “Lilly! Come in!”

  Lilly dropped the dough she’d been kneading onto the stone counter and ran to the flower?covered radio.

  “Hans! Did you find the children?” she called back, panic and hope tangled in her voice.

  Static and loud crashes filled the dead air over the squawk box.

  “What’s with the loud noise? Is everything okay?”

  “Lilly—! Get—shel—raise—the alarm—I repeat—raise alarm—Shelter!”

  *Bzzzzzp.*

  Hans’s words broke through the static in jagged pieces.

  She froze for a heartbeat, the fragments snapping into place.

  The squawk box slipped from her hand and clattered to the floor.

  Lilly ran for the coat rack by the door, yanking down her heavy Minken?fur coat and darting outside, leaving the door wide open. Snow flurries whipped in behind her, chilling the once?toasty home.

  She sprinted through the vacant, narrow street toward the call box beside the shelter a short distance away. Lilly slid the glass door open and half?stepped into the booth, lifting the clear plexitalic cover and slamming her palm onto the big red button.

  It flashed once.

  Then slowly came to life.

  A cascade of eerie sirens spilled into the air, echoing through the town and out into the surrounding forest. Hans could hear the shelter?in?place alarms rising from the valley as he came down the mountainside, the sound winding through the trees and chasing him downhill.

  He checked the rearview, trying to see what had thrown a tree at him, hoping — foolishly — that whatever it was had given up and left him be. Instead, he caught a flicker of movement. Something small and wrong at the edge of the mirror. A shadow moving across the white?powdered landscape.

  Hans tapped a panel on the dash, and a flood of harsh white light lit up the rear of the vehicle, cutting through the swirling snow.

  A shrill shriek answered him from behind.

  The creature faltered, shaking her massive head as her large golden eyes blinked violently, momentarily blinded by the sudden glare. A thin membrane slid across them as she thrashed, protecting them from the brightness, and for a brief moment she slowed.

  Then she shrieked again — louder — and lunged after the crawling contraption with renewed fury, her long strides eating up the distance.

  The next time Hans looked in the mirror, he finally saw her clearly. The Grizmonger — larger than most, and far from where they were ever supposed to be — filled the mirror, gaining with terrifying ease.

  “Oh crumbs! Come on, go faster, you piece of junk!” Hans shouted, mashing the accelerator as if he could force more speed out of it by sheer will alone. The old engine sputtered in protest, rattling beneath him as the sirens continued to wail in the distance.

  The whine of the sirens led a shamble of confused and perturbed townsfolk out of their warm, comfortable cottages as they looked around, spotting Lilly by the booth.

  Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

  “Lilly! What in bloody blazes are you doing out here this time of evening?” one of the women called.

  “Where’s Hans and the children?” shouted another.

  “Why in tarnation did you hit the alarm? There’s no life?threatening storms on the radar!”

  Lilly ran toward the gathering group as a guard stepped out of the toasty warm shack, looking confused. Another guard inside was already checking weather conditions and scanning the wall feeds of the small barrier surrounding the town. The main entrance beside the guard shack began to close as the alarm blared, sealing the town behind an eight?foot barricade meant to protect them from storms — and keep wildlife and bandits out.

  “Hey, what’s the big idea hitting the alarm, Lilly?!” the perturbed guard demanded, stopping in front of her and trying to catch his breath.

  “I swear, if this is a false alarm, I’m throwing both YOU and Hans in the brig for two days with only bread and water,” he added, finally calming down.

  “The children are missing! Hans went to go look—”

  The guard sighed.

  “Lilly… I understand you’re worried, but that’s no reason to—”

  The flustered woman grabbed the front of his jacket, weakly pulling on him, still frantic.

  “It’s not that! Hans went to look for them and took a tracker… something is chasing him from the mountains!”

  The guard froze, studying her emotional face, then pressed a hand to his earpiece.

  “Hey, Earl — hit the lights on the wall, lock the bay door, but leave the personnel door unlocked. Keep an eye out for Jonus’s old tracker; Hans might be coming in hot.”

  He lowered his hand.

  “The rest of you — GATHER ONLY WHAT YOU NEED. Head to the shelter ASAP!”

  The residents grumbled but slowly filed back into their homes to grab warmer clothes before shuffling uphill toward the fortified storm shelter. Earl stayed at his post in the security shack, watching the monitors, while the other guard did his best to usher the grumbling locals.

  *Beep?beep?beep*

  Rodcheck tapped his earpiece.

  “Go ahead, Earl. Talk to me,” he said, still trying to push the crowd along faster.

  “I’ve got headlights breaking the tree line at twelve?o?clock…” Earl began casually.

  There was a long pause — “Yup, it’s Jonus’s tracker all right… wonder why he’s— Oh… holy hell!”

  Earl practically blew out Rodcheck’s eardrum. He winced, still herding the shambling crowd, trying not to rip the earpiece out.

  “Geez, man! You don’t have to yell — I can hear you fine!”

  “It’s a Grizmonger! It’s chasing him to the town!”

  Rodcheck froze, dropping the signal light he’d been waving.

  “Everyone! This is a Code Black! Head to the shelter immediately!”

  The once?shambling residents transformed into a panicked herd of frightened deer, rushing toward the shelter with far more urgency.

  “Oh — now you decide to hurry…” Rodcheck muttered, sprinting full?speed back to the shack.

  Thud!

  “What the heck is going—?” Rodcheck started, but the words died when he saw the monitor.

  “Oh… fucky…”

  The creature had caught up to the tracker, hooking the bed of the vehicle with one of its short, stubby tusks. With a simple jerk of its head, it sent the vehicle flailing end over end — landing miraculously back on its treads and still barreling forward like nothing had happened.

  The guards stared in disbelief at the spectacle. Rodcheck looked down at his sidearm, then back at the creature gaining on the tracker again.

  “I think we’re gonna need a bigger gun…”

  Earl, still in shock, nodded — unsure if anything they had on site would work, even the big?game rifles and ammo in the storage locker.

  Rodcheck tore his gaze from the screen and pressed his thumb to the locker door. Beep. It unlocked. He grabbed a lever?action rifle and began loading it, then set it in the lap of the still?stunned Earl. He loaded another, slung it over his shoulder, grabbed two pre?loaded ammo belts, clipped one around himself, and tossed the other over Earl like a Hawaiian lei, jolting him out of his stupor.

  “You gonna watch the monitor all day, or are you gonna come help?” Rodcheck asked, cocking the lever?action.

  Earl slid the belt on, grabbed his rifle, and followed his partner out the door.

  “Wow… I have no idea how this thing is still holding together, but thaaank you, buddy,” Hans muttered after the carnival ride the creature had sent him on. Somehow the tracker was still going, even though he felt like someone had rolled him off a cliff inside a tire.

  He was almost to the main gate. Welp — *this is probably the dumbest idea I’ve ever had, but let’s test it… he thought as he slowed*.

  The beast was nearly on top of him — then he locked the brakes. Hard.

  The vehicle skidded, lurched, and stopped dead. The sudden halt caught the Grizmonger off?guard, sending it tripping over its own front paws and flipping the tracker onto its roof. The creature flailed through the air and slammed sideways into the locked bay doors, crumpling the thick steel panels like cheap wood. It rolled out of the indentation and flopped drunkenly onto the ground.

  “Sunnovvaa… ugh… well, I’m alive… fuckin’ bobblehead,” Hans groaned, pulling the happily bouncing ornament from between his shoulder and the seat. He winced as he yanked the cartoonish creature free and chucked the woodchuck into the snow, cursing under his breath.

  With the dexterity of an impaired sailor, he undid his harness and collapsed onto the overturned roof. He grabbed his rifle and stumbled toward the personnel door. Behind him, the Grizmonger was slowly getting up, shaking off the brain fog. She blinked, noticed the creature she’d been chasing slip through the tiny door, and lurched after him.

  Hans stepped inside — immediately greeted by guards, though not in a way he appreciated.

  “Hans! What in blazes were you thinking, leading that… thing here?!” Earl demanded, pointing at the buckled steel gate.

  Hans, rifle slung, raised both hands in mock surrender as he sputtered in protest.

  “Well what was I supposed to do? Just let it chase me in the woods until I was eaten?!”

  The guards looked at each other, then at the man they blamed for the day’s disaster.

  “Yes!” they barked in unison, dead serious.

  “Geez, why don’t you tell me how you really feel?” Hans shot back, dripping sarcasm.

  *Thoom!*

  The already?damaged gate buckled further as the Grizmonger rammed it, leaving a warped imprint of its skull in the metal.

  “Sounds like our guest is still outside,” Earl said matter?of?factly.

  Rodcheck rolled his eyes at his partner, then looked back at Hans.

  “Well? What are you standing around for?”

  Hans unslung his rifle, looking at Rodcheck with sudden seriousness.

  “Sir, I want to help.”

  Rodcheck rubbed his temples, looking down, then up at Hans.

  *Thoom — Sqeee—*

  “I think you’ve already helped plenty,” Rodcheck snapped, cold stare and all.

  “But—”

  “No buts. You want to help? Fine. Go be a good civi and barricade yourself with the others. Be the last line of defense for them.”

  The two men stared at each other for a tense moment, flurries whipping past. Hans opened his mouth to protest, but Rodcheck raised a hand and pointed toward the shelter.

  “You heard me. Go on. Get!”

  Hans turned, sulking as he jogged toward the shelter like a scolded puppy.

  When he reached it, he looked back toward the guards. His wife ran up and threw her arms around him, crying. Another man approached, standing beside Hans and following his gaze toward the buckled gate.

  *Thoom — Sqweeee*

  “So you took my tracker, eh?” Jonus asked.

  Hans nodded reluctantly, still not making eye contact with his friend.

  “I suppose it didn’t make it, did it?”

  Hans shook his head, bracing for a scolding. Jonus only shrugged.

  “Eh… it was a piece of junk anyway. Looks like it got you here safe, so that’s what matters.”

  Hans kept his head low, eyes fixed on the gate.

  *Thoom—sqweeeeeee?unch!*

  The gate finally gave.

  *Reeeeeeeeeeeee!*

  The Grizmonger screeched as the metal caved inward and tore open. The guards immediately began cycling rounds into the creature as fast as they could.

  *Pauk?pauk?pauk—*

  Small craters formed across the creature’s soft flesh as fur and skin sizzled and pooled. The men kept moving, dodging claws, snapping jaws, and a tail that cracked like a whip. They worked their levers and triggers mechanically, firing again and again.

  As quickly as they punched child's fist?sized holes into the Grizmonger’s body, the flesh coagulated, stitched, and knitted itself back together. One guard struck a large golden eye — fluid burst from it like an overfilled water balloon, deflating in an instant — and just as quickly, it re?inflated to its former shape as if nothing had happened.

  They were doing everything they could, but it accomplished nothing except making the creature angrier. It shrieked again, louder.

  *Reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!*

  “Well… looks like they’re not going to make it…” Jonus said quietly.

  Hans finally looked at his friend for the first time since leaving work.

  “What do you plan to do…?”

  Jonus patted him on the shoulder.

  “The only thing I can think of doing at the moment.”

  Before Hans could respond, Jonus darted off into the snow in the direction of the Mill.

  “You know this is your fault! Next time a friend asks you to stay for a drink, you do it!” Jonus yelled back toward the shelter through the blizzard as he ran as fast as his legs could carry him toward the mill.

  “Jonus!—Wait!” Hans called out as his friend vanished into the flurry.

  More spectators gathered, watching the continuous peppering the creature received — every bit of damage knitting itself back together as it chased the guards. The men ducked and dodged as they fired, scrimmaging around the courtyard in front of the small town.

  *Click.*

  The dry lever?action echoed in Earl’s hands as he shakily drew his sidearm and squeezed off a few rounds — about as effective as a pellet gun, not even breaking the hide. Earl closed his eyes, flinching as the creature lifted its paw to swipe at him.

  The blow never came.

  Instead of the silence of death, he heard the whirring of servos and whine of hydraulics as a metal arm intercepted the creature’s strike.

  “Jonus?” Earl squeaked in relieved shock.

  “Get to the shelter!”

  “But—”

  “Both of you…!”

  The creature saw an opening and shoved against the piloted heavy?equipment loader, throwing Jonus off balance and pinning him to the ground. It stared into Jonus’s face, the impact cage around his upper torso offering little protection as the Grizmonger snarled, blasting hot breath across him.

  “Jonus!” Earl shouted again as Rodcheck dragged his partner toward the shelter.

  “Go!”

  “Go now!” Jonus barked.

  *Reeeeeeeeee!*

  The shriek blasted his hearing, disorienting him. The creature recoiled its head, then lurched forward to tear into him. Jonus flicked a switch on the joystick — another arm tipped with a circular saw snapped out from beside his head, roaring to life. It sliced the creature’s skull clean in two. The Grizmonger reeled back, giving Jonus just enough time to force the suit upright.

  “Come on, Beastie! Is that all you’ve got?!”

  His brief surge of confidence evaporated instantly.

  The creature didn’t fall.

  It stood, shaking its flayed head — slices of wet meat still clinging to the base, slapping together as it whipped its thick, muscular neck side to side like it was shaking off a migraine. The sloppy, splayed halves began knitting themselves back together.

  Jonus snapped out of his shock and stepped forward, driving a pincer arm straight through the creature’s torso with a sickening wet crunch. He thumbed the control, twisting the closed pincer inside the creature’s chest cavity.

  The Grizmonger coughed, spewing its inky blood across Jonus’s face, blinding him.

  Its face — now fully reconstructed — turned toward the loader. A heavy paw slammed into the torso cage, caving it inward. The loader bounced twice, plowing a gorge through the snow before crashing into a nearby cottage.

  Jonus shook his head, disconnecting one of the loader’s arms to wipe his face clear. He checked the system readouts: heavy damage to the hip joints, power pack low in the yellow, warning systems struggling to recalibrate servos and hydraulic pumps.

  He started unbuckling and hit the release for the impact cage.

  *Cluu—*

  His eyes went wide. The concaved impact cage had protected his body — but at the cost of molding itself into the loader frame, refusing to release. Jonus’s heart rate slowed as he lay there, his mind floating in a sea of nothingness as he waited for the inevitable. He leaned forward, looking past the loader’s feet as the Grizmonger loomed closer, slowly emerging from the sideways flurry of snowfall…

  *Sigh...* “If I knew this would’ve happened, I would’ve asked Jammie for the top?shelf stuff instead of whatever was on tap…” Jonus muttered with a grim smile.

  The creature stood over him, looking down. Its chest cavity and facial wounds were completely mended, as if they had never existed. It slowly lifted a paw and pressed it down toward the loader’s crushed chest cage.

  Jonus grabbed both joysticks, using every ounce of strength to catch the massive paw and push back. They locked there, the only sounds besides the whistling wind and Jonus’s rapid heartbeat were the warning alarms and load?capacity sirens blaring. The power bar crept from yellow to flashing danger?red. The loader’s elbow joints began to creak as the Grizmonger applied steady, unhurried pressure. Annoyed by the noise, it pushed harder. The arms warped with an eerie groan, then—

  *Phoosh.*

  A hydraulic line ruptured. The right arm fell limp. The left cracked and failed moments later. The creature’s paw met the core with a wet, crushing sound that silenced every alarm.

  The Grizmonger turned toward the shelter. The people watching scrambled inside. The blast door began to close, another alarm echoing through the courtyard as the system warned everyone to clear the entrance. The door sealed, locking the townsfolk inside.

  *Thoom—!*

  The creature slowly head?butted the door. Then again. And again.

  *Thoom—thoom—thoom—creeeeeaaaaa…*

  People whimpered and cried as they watched the bulkhead begin to give. The door buckled inward… then stopped.

  The creature sat back on its haunches. She shook her head, staring at the door. Her ears swiveled as she looked about. Everything was silent now — no alarms, no movement. The colony had become a ghost town.

  She lifted a paw, licked the back of it, wiped her eye, then slowly rose to all fours and padded back the way she had come.

  The blizzard finally started to taper, then...stopped, the creature was gone, the colony silent.