35.

Unit? I thought.

Hello, Daniel.

Oh, this was bad. I've always felt it, lurking and watching from far enough I couldn't quite touch it. The shadow at the edge of your sight. The sound you thought you heard. And now it was here, a monotone that buzzed in my head. Mei was enough, I already had one leg over the lunatic line, but this . . . is different.

"You heard it, too?" Jin asked.

I nodded. I stared at the dead boy, looking up at the dirty glass dome. It was silent for once, no guns barking, no shouts. It was only the creak of old metal and the skitter of birds in nests. But that was still background noise to Mei and the Unit, competing to give me a headache.

Jin nudged me with the rifle's butt. "C'mon, we gotta go. Even if Grace is here, she has that thing. Whatever it is, that can switch us off." He started towards the corridor at the end of the room, a dark tunnel. "And I'm not becoming a puppet, for anyone. Much less for a Fallow."

You are not alone, Daniel.

I tried, but the Unit didn't switch off. Even better.

There are others, Daniel.

Stop, I thought.

More are coming, Daniel.

"Shut up," I hissed. Mei kept humming, and the Unit kept chattering. The headache was already touching my neck.

"Hey," Jin said, eyes matching the shadows around the room. "Get your act together and get your ass in gear, Stray."

I ignored the Unit and stepped over the dead boy, twisting my make-shift knife out of his chest. I'd always felt like I'd shared my body with it, now more than ever.

I followed Jin down the corridor. The silence was pressing and intrusive, amplifying every footstep. Every breath. Every click my arms made. It made Mei's singing even louder, as well as the Unit's chirping.

Jin stopped, and I bumped into him.

"What?" I whispered.

He held his head and swayed. "I . . . it keeps . . . people. Things."

That's what my Unit had switched to as well. A beep, like a sonar. It had stopped with the sentences; it had gone back to good old fashion pain in the ass whining. But it was right; there was something. Somethings, more like. And a lot of them.

The beeping gave way to silence, and the silence gave way to a howl. A howl, that churned something deep down in my gut. A cry that came with the scraping of nails, ragged breaths, and a mangy smell.

"Skins," Jin muttered. A wave of them; raging down the corridor.

I spun on my heels and ran, Jin right by my side. They shrieked and clawed at the hallway, tossing away old skeletons. Scraping and sparking their nails along the metal. They were faster. So fast, I could smell their sour breath pressing against my neck.

We burst into the cafeteria, the sudden light dizzying. I jumped over a fallen table, the Unit flashing directions in my eyes: jump, roll to the right, to the left, duck. A machine to protect the host, and it was doing just fine until a Skin – a towering sack of sinewy muscle – swiped at me with its razor-like nails.

It clipped my thigh, and I dropped, my jaw smacking into the concrete. I was flooded instantly. A tsunami of teeth and claws, ripping and tearing away at my clothes. I punched and kicked, but they were too many. Too many teeth, too many claws; too much blood coming from scratches becoming cuts.

"Jin!" I shouted over their cries. I screamed his name again, the shrieks catching them instantly.

I'd dropped my knife. I kicked out and tried to get onto my feet, but they pressed and pushed me back down. I screamed as a clawed hand wrapped around my calf, picking me up and tossing me across the room. I flipped through the air and slammed into a table.

The Unit flickered in my eyes when I jerked to a stop. Straight against the table's edge. The pain was distant, the Unit doing its job. Breathing was near impossible. I wheezed, slowly working my way to my feet. My head rang as I stood; my mouth tasted like iron, my eyes blurred like some old video recording.

Daniel, they are coming, it said.

And it showed me how to deal with them. The first leapt, sailing through the air on limbs impossibly long. I ducked before it crashed into me and slammed a fist squarely into its gut. It collapsed. I grabbed its head and smacked it into the edge of the table, again and again until its flimsy stitches broke loose. Until it was the crunching sound of bone and nothing more.

Another jumped, but I didn't get this one. A hail of bullets from above blew it apart, its head popping after a few stray bullets hit it. Jin, bloodied, hair matted to his head, turned the rifle and rained down on the Skins. Each explosion from the rifle highlighted his sharp cheekbones, splitting the dim twilight above us and shredding the Skins.

He abruptly stopped. The Skins clinging to life crawled towards me.

"Stray," Jin said, voice tense. "Don't."

"Hell do you mean . . ."

Grace, right beside Jin, with that silver disk in her slim fingers. Her finger hovering above the button. No smile this time, just a sly annoyance, coming from a twitch in her eye.

"That's a good boy," she said. "Do you understand how long it took me to . . ." Her voice trailed as she sighed. "Anyway, you're both alright. And that's what I need."

I glanced around the room for my knife. I could hit Grace from here, drench her blood-red dress in crimson. And then this entire nightmare would be over. But where the hell was it?

She placed a fingernail just below Jin's jaw, the metal pressing against his pale neck. "Don't."

He lowered the rifle.

"What do you two not understand?" she asked, blue eyes electric. My knife, where the hell was that little bastard? Too dim for it to shine, too many bodies for it to hind underneath. "The people up there would slaughter you. Use you as . . . as slaves. And you cling onto this hope that you'd have a fighting chance. They'll devour you. But you two, with me pulling your strings, will change that."

"Cut your bullshit, Grace." I continued scanning: nothing. Maybe I could use one of the Skin's nails. "The people up there don't care what goes on here. You're trying to get the Gray back for your own good."

She laughed a mirthless, flat laugh. "So naïve. But it won't matter. I'll make sure you two kill your friends quickly, that's a mercy I'd give them."

Jin spat at her feet.

A nail, right next to my boot. I'd have to time it. Crouch and throw, one motion, before she taps the button. Jin's eyes locked onto mine, and he nodded. So slight it looked like a breeze had picked up the edge of his hair.

He spun around, back-fisting her. She stumbled. I ripped the nail away from the Skin, twisted, and flung it through the air. Just like Hunter taught me. Just like the Unit showed me.

I missed. I would have killed Grace. It would have been a perfect shot if she'd been there. But Jin stood there instead, the shard of metal deep into his shoulder, block running down his arm. Veins of crimson ran along his arm and fell and tapped against the floor. He was stock still, not even grimacing. Dark eyes glassy, staring straight ahead.

Grace smiled. "See, dear cousin, these past years I've been rather busy. The stage had been set long ago, even before the war. All I had to do was weave the string for grandfather's puppets." She cocked her head, her black hair fell over one shoulder. "Once again, I'm truly sorry. But, Fallows have always changed the course of history, and it's time to do it once more."

She pressed the silver disk.