They pushed through another door and stepped into a massive chamber.
The turbine room.
Metal catwalks ran along both sides of a huge cylindrical structure in the center. Thick pipes stretched overhead. High windows near the ceiling let in pale light, dust drifting through the beams. The space felt open. Exposed.
Their footsteps clanged against the grated floor.
The echo carried too far.
Even their careful steps rang through the turbine room, metal answering back in sharp notes that refused to die.
"Quiet," Malcolm said low. "It hunts by sound."
Iyisha nodded.
Marybeth was beside her, breathing fast. Too fast.
"Relax," Iyisha whispered, forcing her own voice steady. "Maybe it can't find us in here."
Malcolm shook his head.
"It won't stop until it kills us," he said.
They moved along the catwalk slowly, boots placed with care.
Then it came.
A high pitched cry tore across the air.
It didn't echo from inside the room.
It came from outside.
