Iyisha turned around.
The gray cloud had filled the decon room completely now. It hung thick in the air, swallowing the corners, coating the walls. The hunter lay where it fell, a dark hole torn through its chest. Its jaw tightened once, useless limbs twitching against the tile before going still.
In the corner, the bloater was shrinking. Its swollen flesh sank inward slowly, collapsing in on itself. Its only purpose done.
At least it was contained there.
Inside the plant.
Even if others ruptured, the spores wouldn't drift into towns. Only whoever walked in by mistake would breathe it.
She pulled open the door leading back toward the turbine room.
Marybeth was nowhere in sight.
Good.
Iyisha didn't wait.
She didn't want them to see her turn.
She didn't want Malcolm to have to do it.
Even if they promised each other...
She couldn't.
God. No. She couldn't face it.
She walked forward.
