Samantha's Pov.
"They're here," Sloane says, her voice heavy and obviously weary. A cold, sharp chill instantly runs down my spine, a physical reaction to the dread her words carry.
Just a few days ago, we had drawn up contingency plans for this exact scenario, just in case those things, those mutants, ever managed to cross through the portal. The whole idea felt absurd, something I would have believed only happened in cheesy monster movies. That was, until I saw the classified footage with my very own eyes. The grainy, shaking images of those things moving in the shadows of Mount Cassian were burned permanently into my mind.
Daddy was meant to announce this publicly at the gala, to sound the alarm. But our uncle had urged him not to, told him it was a waste of time and would cause a panic. Now our uncle is in charge, and they murdered Daddy and shoved us in here to rot.
"They're not going to let us go?" I hiss, the question sharp and frantic as the piercing screams of people outside shake the very walls of the building. The sound is pure, undiluted terror.
"If we break out, it'll just be even more trouble for us later," Sydney points out, her voice tight with a practical fear I don't have the patience for right now.
"We'll die before we even get a chance to be caught again," Sloane groans, already pacing back and forth in the small space of her cell. I watch her, and I know that look. She's piecing together a plan, turning over every possibility in her head. I fully trust that process, but seeing her look so close to breaking apart was already shredding what little composure I had left. I no longer care about my reputation, or my rank, or any of it. I would rather be a fugitive on the run than to die a cheap criminal in this concrete box.
I part my lips to speak again, to suggest a plan or anything to save ourselves from the impending danger, when another massive thud comes. This one is closer, much closer. It sends waves of dust billowing from underneath the door, and fine sand crumbles from the ceiling in a gritty rain. A large, jagged crack splinters right through the concrete floor of the corridor.
"Sloane," Sydney calls out, her voice edged with alarm as she takes a hurried step back from the growing fissure.
"Get under your beds and take cover, now!" Sloane shouts, her voice cutting through the chaos as the ground tremors again. I don't hesitate; I follow her order without question, rolling under the thin, lumpy mattress of my cot and hugging myself tightly into a ball. My heart is thudding so loud and fast I can feel it pounding against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat of fear.
The next thud is catastrophic. It smashes a large, gaping hole into the ground right outside our cell block. I shut my eyes tight against the storm of sand and dust that blocks my vision, choking and thick. The sound of rending metal screeches through the air as our prison doors are torn from their hinges and come crashing down. Through the swirling debris, I see it—a long, slithering tail, thick with scales and twice the size of the building we're in, whipping past the opening. Just as if that wasn't enough to seal our doom, I hear Skye's voice shouting from a distance, faint but clear.
"Fire! All units, fire at will!"
"Are you nuts?" Sloane counters, her voice strained as she coughs out a lungful of dust. "You'll just piss it off!" But her warning is drowned out by the rapid and immediate staccato of gunshots. A ground-shaking roar follows, so deep and powerful it vibrates in my teeth. This is crazy. This is bloody, batshit crazy.
The shots become a distant, meaningless noise, but I hear closer, urgent footsteps approaching my cell. "Sam, come on. Let's go!" It's Sydney. She's free.
I roll out from under the bed, my movements clumsy with adrenaline, and rush out into the corridor to see both my sisters standing by the shattered doorway. My jaw drops open when I finally see the lizard—no, the monster—we're fighting. It's colossal, as large as an age-old dinosaur but covered in the thick, iridescent scales of a dragon. It growls, an aggressive, guttural sound that hits you in the chest, and then it breathes a torrent of searing orange fire onto the soldiers who had struck it. Sloane doesn't let us gawk for long; she grabs both of us by the arms and pulls us into a cold, dark hallway deeper within the wrecked prison.
"That thing is... huge," Sloane comments, her voice a low whisper as she keeps her eyes glued to the opening we just fled from.
"It's a fully matured mutant," Sydney says, her tone clinical despite the situation. "We're going to need a miracle to even scratch it, let alone defeat it."
"You're the scientist," I argue, heaving as I try to catch my breath. "You should at least know something we can use against it."
Sydney rests her head back against the cold concrete wall, her shoulders slumped in exhaustion. "Well, I do know that conventional guns are a complete waste of time. Its hide is too thick."
"We could go mediaeval on its ass," I shrug, the idea sparking. We spent two full years at the advanced training academy, specifically developing our swordsmanship and close-quarters martial arts for situations standard weapons couldn't handle. I think we could finally use that.
"We won't be able to reach it," Sloane mutters, her mind still racing, calculating angles and trajectories. "Not with swords. It's too tall, its movements are too unpredictable."
"We could, Sloane," Sydney insists, pushing off the wall. "There's a prototype recurve bow back in the base, the one I was stress-testing. I made a few toxic, high-yield explosive arrows for Sam's precision training... if she could get a clean shot and plant one directly into the heart of that lizard, then we'll have it where we want it. The poison should slow its systems, the explosion will cause internal damage."
"We could weaken it enough for whatever's left of the army to mount a real attack," Sloane snaps her fingers, the plan finally clicking together in her head. "But it'll take time to get to the base..."
"Our personal gear was confiscated after the arrest," I say, a new urgency in my voice as I hear another series of explosions rock the world outside. "It should be in the evidence lockup, right here in this prison complex. We don't have to go far."
"Great," Sloane says, her decision made. She grabs both of us by the shoulders, her grip firm and steadying. "Both of you should head to the lockup immediately. Grab as many of our weapons as you can carry, especially that bow."
"And you?" I ask, my voice slightly trembling despite my best effort to keep it steady.
"I'll keep Izzy distracted," She smirks, a flash of her old, fierce confidence returning as she gives the monstrous lizard a nickname. Then she pulls us both into a deep, crushing hug. "Try not to die, okay?"
"We wouldn't dare," I grin, the expression feeling strange and reckless on my face.
"I know."