Chapter Twenty-One: Disturbed Nest
Rey was still glaring when they left the bunker, but as Kylo stepped out first into the aged, cool night, her wrath was instantly demoted in importance.
Something was wrong.
Stretching his awareness far beyond the yard, he hunted through the ebbs of Force around them, a spider testing the strings of his web, seeking the source of the foreboding tremor.
Without thinking, Kylo reached back and took Rey's elbow, drawing her to his side. "I sense we're no longer alone," he whispered. "Be quiet and still."
He shouldn't have given such a directive, because—of course—she immediately did the exact opposite.
"Let GO!" She yelled. "Stop grabbing me!"
Kylo glowered. "You… are…," his voice shook. "The worst."
"Ha!" She said. "That's rich coming from—."
He covered her mouth with a gloved palm, muffling the rest of her very unneeded retort. "Shh," he hissed, scanning the area in mounting tension.
Without his mask, Rey watched a muscle tighten in his jaw as he clenched his teeth, thinning his mouth to a hard, white line. He looked agitated. Nervous, even.
She echoed his search and gasped into the clamp of black leather. At the yard's end, three hulking shapes loomed in the darkness. They approached with slow, plodding steps, but dropped to all fours in the blink of an eye, trundling across the expanse in a lumbering run that sped to a sprint.
Kylo released her and whirled on his heel, rushing back to the bunker doors and retyping his code into its access panel.
Rey managed a choked sound as the shapes neared, proximity sharpening enough details to show pelts of coarse fur. Triple rows of daggered, saliva-covered teeth and beady, yellow eyes glittered in the bright moonlight reflecting off the surrounding snow.
"W-What are they?" She stammered.
Kylo captured a handful of her jacket, yanking her backwards. "Gorgodons," he clipped out. "Hungry ones, it seems."