Warnings for strong language, because this is an action-filled chapter featuring our fav military bros.

Also, did I miss something, or is no one else getting any notifications anymore either?


Look. Scott was decidedly not saying that he had a least favourite Thunderbird, but… if he absolutely had to pick… The problem was that Thunderbird Four wasn't designed for anyone over six foot in height, which was an issue Gordon didn't struggle with no matter how many times he claimed to be part of the Six-Foot club too. So, while Four was the smallest Thunderbird in the fleet by far, given Gordon (or occasionally Kayo or Alan) was the only one to pilot her, this didn't matter.

Or at least it hadn't mattered until today, when Scott was slowly crippling his spine in the cabin of the most confined vessel he'd ever stepped foot in – and that included all of the questionably constrictive military aircraft he'd flown in the past. He'd sat down on the floor and stretched his legs across the width of the cabin, but his back was still complaining. At least he wasn't alone in his suffering – Parker didn't have quite as much of an issue, but he was clearly also uncomfortable.

"There is no reason for this to be taking so long," Scott muttered, trying to shuffle further upright only to accidentally smash his shoulder into the bulkhead. Across the cabin, Kayo eyed him with a look that was equal parts sympathetic and highly amused. "He's taking the long way around, I swear he is."

"Oi," Gordon chimed in over the comms link. "Quit your bitching, Scooter. I mean, if you really want to get out here where a lovely group of infected are trying to claw their way into my sub, then sure, feel free, but I'd rather clear the path ahead first."

The distant screeches now made sense. Scott tried not to wince. The idea of infected tearing away at Four's hull filled him with dread – no wonder Gordon was being snappy.

Parker cleared his throat. "I'm glad there's no windows in 'ere."

Kayo gave an undignified snort. "No kidding." She rapped on the door into the cockpit. "Yo, Gordon, why don't you just give that new missile a test run?"

"Yo, Kayo," Gordon shot back immediately. "Why don't you back off and quit telling me how to defend my ship?"

"Well, historically you haven't done a very good job."

"Get fucked, sis." Four lurched sideways. "Son of a goddam…"

"Language!" Scott quipped, because he couldn't help himself. He didn't need to peer through the tiny window into the cockpit to know that Gordon was flipping him off. Parker was also smiling, head lowered but eyes twinkling in the gentle lights.

The entire craft jolted violently. Kayo slammed into the bulkhead with a curse and her suit shimmered slightly as the impact was carefully distributed across layers of enhanced shielding - yet another of Brains' creations originally intended for International Rescue use but now adapted for the apocalypse. She dropped to the floor to maintain her balance, grabbing Scott's offered hand for extra support. Gordon was cussing up a storm. Something metallic chimed. Scott couldn't tell if it was his ears ringing or distant alarms in the cockpit.

And then all was quiet.

Scott took a deep breath. Kayo carefully uncurled her fingers from the death grip she'd had on his hand. Parker pushed himself into a crouch and gingerly knocked on the cockpit door. Gordon swung through the hatch into a well-practised flip.

"I've attached us via grapple to the ship. We've got clear seas all around for the time-being but let's not push our luck, yeah?"

Kayo gritted her teeth. "Wasn't planning to." She double tapped her wrist console. It blinked back at her with confirmation that the scan EOS had taken of the ship layout had downloaded in case they lost contact with Thunderbird Five for any reason. "Is everyone clear on the plan?"

Parker gave a sharp nod. "We'll take the lower decks and work our way up. Scott and Gordon take the upper decks. We meet in the middle."

Gordon swung an arm around Scott's shoulders. "Ah, the iconic duo strikes again."

Scott resisted the urge to elbow him. "When have we ever been an iconic duo?"

"Um, excuse me." Gordon pouted. "Since, like, forever, Scotty-boy. C'mon." He crossed his arms, raising a challenging brow. "You've gotta admit that we make a pretty good team."

Kayo rolled her eyes. "You'll make a pretty dead team if you don't get your heads in the game."

Something crashed. A distant howl tore across the waves.

Gordon winced.

"And that's exactly what I'm talking about." Kayo cracked a grin. "C'mon boys. Don't you know the devil's calling?" She knocked her fists together with a metallic clang. "Let's not keeping them waiting."

Gordon snorted. "Yeah, I hear Hell is renowned for its parties."

Scott activated his stuns and let blue lightning dance across his fists for a moment. When he looked up, the cabin had gone silent. Kayo's gaze was cool with silent pride. Gordon just looked delighted.

Parker stepped past them both to clap a hand to Scott's shoulder. "No repeats of last time, ay lad?"

"And, to quote Grandma Tracy," EOS interjected, "'Would you please, for the love of all that is good and holy, keep your motherfucking radios on?'"

There was a brief pause. Gordon was practically shaking with the effort not to laugh.

"On that note," Scott sighed. "Shall we get on with it?"


The waters around the archipelago were infamously choppy – there was a reason why any deliveries were made by either drone or plane. There were areas where it was fairly safe to take a boat out provided you knew the precise paths through the dense coral reefs and where the riptide would snatch away swimmers within seconds, but these trips tended to stay close to the protective bay of Tracy Island and never ventured beyond the headland. Thunderbird Four was the only vessel capable of navigating such treacherous waters without an issue. This only served to make it stranger when the sea appeared perfectly smooth.

"It's an omen," Gordon whispered, and, despite Kayo's scathing retort, Scott couldn't help but silently agree with his brother.

The lone waves were fairly shallow and merely lapped at the sides of the massive ship that dwarfed the yellow Thunderbird at its flank. Scott glanced skywards and noted the slow track of the clouds across the blue. A check with the readouts from his console confirmed that the wind had dropped significantly. Without the usual rush of waves and wind, sound carried further and louder than usual. Distant growls and groans echoed across the open water.

"Blimey," Parker remarked. "Sounds like there's hundreds of 'em."

Kayo's own grapple connected with the metal hull. The sound reverberated along metal plating. Several groans cut short to be replaced by strange rasping grunts of curiosity. A wet dragging noise like raw meat across a chopping board moved from left to right, along the length of the top deck. A few droplets of red trickled from the railings.

Gordon observed the crimson spirals left behind as the blood drained into the waves. "No one fall in the water unless you absolutely have to. That's gonna attract sharks for miles."

"Sharks," Parker muttered as though it were a curse. "Wonderful."

Scott waited for Gordon to leap to his usual defence of one of his favourite creatures but was met only with silence. Gordon crouched down, one gecko glove securing him to Four's hull as he leaned over the water, examining something in the depths. Scott knelt beside him.

"What is it?"

Gordon tilted his head. "Man overboard," he murmured, voice tainted with a strange, unidentifiable emotion. "Looks like I was right about the shark chow, too. EOS says there's life signs incoming that are compatible with multiple sharks. Mostly reef, but a couple of GWs too."

"GWs?"

Gordon shot him a sideways glance. "Great Whites, Scotty."

"Yeah, I know."

The top deck was mostly uninhabited, save for the small crowd of infected that had found their way to the hatches and flooded en-mass towards them. Kayo dispatched them all with a series of headshots and Parker took out the final one with a throwing knife. The zombie crumpled against the railing and toppled overboard.

"Huh." Kayo examined the splash. "More food for your friends, Gordo." She motioned to Parker. "I found the entrance to the lower decks. The ladder should take us straight down. I'm gonna electrify it first just in case we've got any unwelcome visitors hanging on, but it'll be safe for us to use again in thirty secs."

Parker wiped one of his knives clean. "Fine by me."


The ship differed from the layout that Scott had expected, which was vaguely surprising but not completely shocking given that while Gordon and he had racked up military time in air and sea, neither of them had ever been part of the GDF and, while Colonel Casey had originally been known as Auntie Cass, discussing the different dimensions of top-secret vessels had never been the topic of any birthday celebrations. Scott wasn't about to get himself lost with zombies around every other corner ready to launch themselves at him like a particularly traumatising jump-scare, so he paid close attention to the map EOS had projected on his visor and console and trusted Gordon to watch both of their backs as they scouted out the first level.

"I feel like there should be a door there," Gordon said conversationally. "You know? It's a weirdly long corridor. These people do not like doors. Do you reckon this is how GDF agents get their cardio done? Just walking from room to room along infinite corridors?"

"Are you nervous or is this more of your standard rambling?"

"Uh…" Gordon thought about it for a moment while Scott calculated how far away they were from the next room. "Probably both? Yeah, both. I'm gonna go with both. Holy hell, I'm gonna like…" He flapped a hand. "…sue the shit outta whoever designed this place. This is awful. What if there was a fire? Half the crew would die of smoke inhalation before they reached an exit."

"Maybe that's the point," Scott replied. He was admittedly somewhat distracted.

Gordon double-took. "Dude. That's dark."

"Hmm…"

"Wait, but like… you might have a point. Oh. Oh my god. Did we just uncover a whole conspiracy? My brain is whirring."

"Your brain is too loud."

Gordon glared at him. "Shut up. Your brain is too loud. I don't even know what I'm saying anymore and oh fuck me sideways, duck, duck, duck."

Scott had never been so grateful for the automatic noise cancelling feature in IR-regulated helmets. His hearing was safe from the gun that was fired over his shoulder, even if his heart rate would probably never return to a normal pace again. He whirled around to discover a zombie in a heap of decomposing flesh and splintered bone, still sliding down the wall, a bullet hole smoking in the centre of what had once been a forehead.

"I can't tell if I'm gonna puke or not," Gordon whimpered. "That's probably the grossest one I've ever seen. Ew."

"You nearly shot me!"

"You were about to get eaten! You said to watch your back!"

"Nearly. Shot. Me."

"Sorry for literally saving your life."

"Bite me."

"I won't, but that zombie would've done if I hadn't saved your sorry ass." Gordon shoved past him, still gesturing dramatically. "Unbelievable. This is why I usually team-up with Virg for stuff."

A soul-lurching howl echoed from some not-so-distant part of the ship, funnelled by the corridor. It was an inhuman, nightmarish wail, the sort of sound that awakened ancient instincts from when humans were not the top of the food chain. Scott swallowed. Gordon stepped closer until their helmets knocked. All traces of coping humour were gone.

"I didn't know they could sound like that," Scott admitted.

Gordon shuddered. "Like a demon."

Scott couldn't deny it. Everything about the sound seemed straight from Hell. Even with the temperature moderator in his suit, he was shivering and sweating at the same time. Another howl ripped through the ship. Gordon's hand closed around Scott's bicep, instinctively seeking comfort but aware enough to not reach for his wrist where the stuns were still active.

"Is that getting closer?" Gordon whispered.

The lights flickered in and out as a third howl rattled dust from the ceiling panels.

"No," Gordon muttered, voice rising into a slight plea. "No, no, no, no, no… Don't you dare, don't you even think about it, no, no, no…"

The lights extinguished one by one like candles on a mantelpiece.

It was the type of darkness that one could drown in. Their suits blinked into life, glowing a pale white that illuminated the fear mirrored on both their faces. For a long moment, neither of them said anything. Another howl trembled around them.

"Well," Scott said at last. "You and Alan always said you wanted to live in a video game."

"One with dragons, not zombies." Gordon's grip on his gun tightened. "This isn't even… this is awful. This is like that time I secretly played Outlast in like Fourth Grade and I had to sleep in Virgil's room for two weeks."

"You played… Gordon, you were ten, what the hell?"

"I make poor life choices, Scott, we know this, the tabloids know this, therefore the entire world knows this… I shit you not, something just moved."

"Where?"

A split second ticked into an eternity.

"Gordon, I love you, but if you scare me like that again when all you saw was your own shadow then I will disown you without hesitation."

Gordon exhaled slowly. "Yeah, that's fair."

The comms crackled slightly as they activated – the line was clearly disrupted by something within the ship's design that had remained off the schematics that EOS had originally downloaded and was undetectable by long-range scans… which did raise the question of exactly what this vessel had been used for to go to such lengths to keep its cargo hidden from the world. Even Kayo's voice was broken up by static. The only thing that was clear was the background horror of distant howling.

"They're behaving erratically," Kayo was saying, sharp in a manner that spoke not just of alert instincts but that uneasy suspicion that something was wrong. "Have you ever heard any of them howl like this?"

"They haven't got working brains," Gordon pointed out. "And we're the first meal they've seen or smelt in days. No wonder they're freaking out."

Scott couldn't tell if it was his nerves playing havoc with his vision, but, in the glow projected by his suit, the pipes secured to the ceiling appeared to be trembling. The movement was tiny, barely perceptible, but it struck him as odd.

"Gordon," he interjected before his siblings could launch into another squabble. "That targeted EMP you launched earlier from Four… it did definitely shut down the engines, right?"

"Uh, yeah." Gordon tensed as another howl echoed back and forth along the corridor. "Lights stay on, engines stay off, just like Brains said they would. EMP worked like a charm until something cut the power to the lights, but that's no reason why the engines would start up again."

"Engines are definitely off," Parker reported through a crackle of interference. "We'd feel 'em all the way down 'ere."

The ceilings were relatively low, so all Scott had to do was reach up and press a hand to the pipes to confirm that there was definitely a minute vibration rattling through the ship. He moved his hands along the bracket holding the pipes to the ceiling and then down the wall to the floor. The vibrations weakened the further away he got from the pipes.

Gordon followed his movements. "What's in the pipes? Water? Oxygen?" He sniggered. "Sewage?"

"You just can't help yourself, can you?"

"I'm nervous, shut up."

"Pipes?" Kayo queried over the comms. "There's nothing on the schematics. All pipes are concealed within the walls. This is a relatively new ship – the most recent designs to have external wiring and pipeage were… what, 2047?"

"2053," Gordon replied quietly, slipping into a mixture between IR-mode and military-grade seriousness. He pressed his palm to the pipe with the strongest jitters. "This is an add-on and whatever it contains is either super volatile or there's a serious build-up of pressure somewhere."

"Follow the pipe?" Scott already knew the answer before his brother nodded.

"Follow the pipe."

"And try not to get eaten," Kayo chimed in. "You know, in case you'd forgotten that part."

"Damn, Kay, try not to get eaten? You're ruining all my evening plans."

"Gordon," Scott snapped.

"Right, right, follow the pipe." Gordon turned off the transmission on his radio. "FAB."


The corridor seemed longer than ever without lighting. Their suits were good and the torches on their helmets were technically space-graded but there was something unnerving about having your back to infinite darkness. It was difficult to distinguish between nearby threats and the echoing howls. Scott turned to dispatch a zombie only to find thin air and a rattling pipe. Gordon nearly filled a half-opened door with a gun clip. Ahead of them, where the torch beams ran out, there was nothing but shadows.

The pipes still rattled. It appeared to be getting stronger as they continued. The corridor twisted to the left and led them to a stairwell.

"Oh goody," Scott muttered to himself.

There was blood smeared along the railing. A mangled corpse, mostly eaten, lay decomposing in the corner. He scanned it for any signs of life just in case it was a particularly clever infected waiting to get the drop on them, but it was just an unfortunate soul who'd fallen prey to people he had once called friends.

"This is really, really disturbing if you think about it too much," Gordon murmured, giving the body a wide berth. "I'm trying not to, but… you know?"

"Yeah," Scott agreed, reluctant to turn his back to the corpse. "I know."

The steps descended deeper into the bowels of the ship. Something thick and wet dripped within the dark. Gordon nearly slipped on a patch of slick concrete. A glance down revealed the step was bathed in blood.

"Jeezus." He practically hurtled down the next few steps to reach Scott's side, turning back to illuminate the steps. "That's only a couple of days old at the most. Does that mean someone was still alive on board?"

Scott wasn't about to get a sample for Brains to analyse and date. "Then why didn't they answer any of EOS's calls?"

"Maybe they couldn't get to a radio," Gordon suggested. He sounded unconvinced himself, rubbing his gloves against the wall to rid them of the sticky crimson. "God, what is that?"

"What's what?"

"The dripping. Don't you hear that?"

"I hear it." Scott turned in a wide circle. Nothing sprang out of the gloom. "Just blood, presumably. Or water."

"Too thick. You hear that splash? That's different. Water's more… and blood's…" Gordon waved a hand at him. "Just trust me, alright? Whatever's dripping, it's not that."

Scott halted. Gordon activated the backup torch on his wrist console and directed the beam over the walls, the railings, the steps. Strange shadows fled the light. The darkness seemed to close in around them. Everything was still and silent. Even the dripping appeared to have stopped. The world was holding its breath. Scott's instincts were practically on red alert. Under his gloves, his hands were sweaty. Something was about to happen, but what, where, when, how? Gordon took a step closer and pressed their backs together.

Something screeched.

Scott's ears were ringing, even with his helmet on.

"Holy fuck, what the hell, what just…"

Gordon fired off a shot. It ricocheted off metal panels on the far side of the reinforced stairwell. Something snarled. Scott slammed a hand into the fire-alarm to his right. Glass smashed under metal knuckles. Red lights struggled to activate then plunged straight back into darkness. Hisses concealed further growls as fire suppression systems kicked into life.

"Go, go, go!"

Gordon yanked Scott's arm and shoved him forwards. Movement flickered to the right. Something big and bulky rolled over the top of the railing and plummeted downwards. It landed with the distinctive smack of flesh against concrete. Gordon skidded on wet stairs. Scott flung out an arm to catch him and sent an electrical pulse the zombie's way. The stuns whined with excess energy. The infected, slumped at his feet, snarled feebly. Gordon's shot was shaky, but he was too close to miss.

There was no thinking time. Just reactions. Sprint. Assess the path ahead. An exit led to a corridor. Fire alarms rang around in a symphony of panic. Another infected lurched into their route. Scott stunned it while Gordon made the kill, a neat routine of trap and dispatch that they fell into without discussion. The comms were blaring with static as Kayo and Parker attempted to make contact.

Scott's console was glowing green.

"Supposedly there's only five more infected on the entire ship," he read aloud. His heart was still racing. Adrenaline was itchy under his skin. Fight versus flight battled each other for control. He shoved the urge to run to the back of his mind and tried to regain control of his breathing. At his side, Gordon braced himself against the wall, eyes wide in the glow from his suit.

"How much do ya wanna bet that they'll be wherever these pipes lead?"

"I know better than to make a bet with you."

Gordon let out a tired chuckle. "Sounds about right." He reached for the comm. "Kayo, Parker, check in. We've had a rough five minutes, how's it going your end?"

"Bloody brilliant," Parker growled, voice drenched in sarcasm. "Opened a door an' found more of the buggers."

"We're not having a fun time," Kayo summarised. "But apparently we're down to the final five."

"Final five's gonna be the big boss or something," Gordon muttered, rolling his shoulders as he finally pushed himself away from the wall. "Like a zombie on steroids or some shit."

"Don't be ridiculous," Kayo replied.

"I'm not being ridiculous." Gordon checked the ammo levels. "This has been horrifying so far but not exactly a challenge. When has it ever been this easy? That means these final five are definitely going to be a bitch. Also, um, hello, Tracy Luck anyone?"

"Don't," Kayo snapped. "This is going to be fine. We can handle five, no problem. Parker and I have one level left to go. You?"

"Half of this and then one more," Scott reported. "But I think we've nearly found the source of these pipes."

"Go for that. Parker and I will take your final level and meet you at the source. FAB?"

"FAB," Gordon murmured.

The comms switched off with a click.

Silence was deafening.

Something dripped again. This time Scott glimpsed movement. He glanced to Gordon.

"See that?"

"I told you it wasn't blood," Gordon grumbled, as their torches illuminated a very familiar and clearly green substance dripping from the pipe ahead.

Except-

When-

Flashes. Moments that he had only seen in dreams – or what technically would count as nightmares – but hadn't thought about too deeply, not considering what secrets these excerpts may unlock, unwilling to venture into a spiral that would open the door to a labyrinth of unwanted memories.

His back hit the wall.

"Hey." Gordon was suddenly right there, snapping his fingers in front of Scott's face. "Are you back with me?"

"Um…" It wasn't exactly a convincing response, but the truth was that Scott was trying to establish an order of time in his head whilst also resisting the urge to call John on the comms right this instant and ask what the hell were you thinking, because "I… I t-think I just remembered what happened in New Zealand."

Gordon blinked. "Oh." Understanding dawned on his face. "Oh. Shit, Scott. Talk about crappy timing." His smile was too rigid to be genuine, voice a little wavering. "You sure know how to pick your moments, bro."

Scott chuckled humourlessly and the sound hurt, brittle and sharp in his chest. "Tell me about it." He pushed himself away from the wall to stand directly underneath the dripping pipe. The green substance was so familiar, the sight in front of him overlayed by the memory playing in his mind. "It's a type of parasite, right?"

Gordon hesitated. "Yes," he confirmed a beat later. "Look, uh… how much do you remember? Are you… like… are you good? Because we can…"

"Go back?" Scott finished for him. "No, we can't. We both know that. Anyway…" He physically shook himself. "I'm fine."

Gordon looked at him doubtfully. "Want to try that again? Maybe with a bit more honesty this time?"

"I haven't even had a chance to process anything yet, so yes, for now I am fine." Scott directed his torch beam onto the pipe. "Right now, all I want to do is figure out what the hell this stuff is doing on a GDF ship."

Gordon held his wrist console up to the pipe. The device blinked as the scanning function activated, relaying the information back to EOS on Thunderbird Five with her infinite bank of information at her fingertips. Scott stepped to put his back to his brother's, keeping his sight trained on the dark corridor they had come from, unwilling to risk anything sneaking up on them.

Another primal howl caused the pipes to shudder. A thick droplet of green gloop splattered against Gordon's boots. He made a noise of disgust, scuffing his shoes against the floor. Scott stared at it, bubbling faintly as though eating through the metal plating like acid… He knelt down, ignoring Gordon's murmured question, and directed his torch beam onto the substance. It wasn't consuming the metal, it was consuming the dust.

Dust, which was partly made up of organic material: shed human skin cells, scraps of hair and so on. It was targeting biological materials, absorbing them in a similar fashion to how plants took up minerals from soil. It was the closest comparison Scott could think of – it had been a long time since he'd studied Biology. He relayed this theory to Gordon, flipping on the comms to the open channel so that EOS could listen in as well as Kayo and Parker.

Gordon's frown melted into a horrified realisation. "Wait… so… the decay could be a result of the parasite breaking down the host to access the nutrients it needs for continued survival." He was tapping again, fingers drumming against his wrist console as he thought aloud. "We've seen that decay rates amongst the infected vary, so maybe the rate of decay is dependent on the mass of the parasite in their system. The bigger the sample, the quicker the host decays, right?"

"That would certainly explain why the infected on this ship have been more gruesome than anything else we've seen so far," Kayo mused, remarkably calm given that the scratching sounds from her side of the comm suggested that she was about to go head-to-head with another zombie. "If part of the parasite exists in saliva, then that must be how the infection can be transmitted by bite."

"More bites, more parasite, quicker rate of decay," Gordon finished for her, glancing to Scott as if Scott could possibly offer any insight into what was quickly becoming a lecture on biological implications that he knew nothing about. But one thing was ringing loud and clear and unanswerable in its confusing theoretics, because if more bites meant more infection, how the hell had John survived with only a bacterial infection? It didn't add up, and that triggered alarm bells in Scott's head. Historically speaking, things not adding up meant that there was something far graver lurking around the bend for them to discover.

Parker cleared his throat. "What's this stuff doing on the ship then?"

Gordon straightened up. "Not sure." He looked to Scott in question, jerking a thumb towards the barricaded door at the end of the corridor that the pipes led to. "But I think we're about to find out."

"Not to interrupt," EOS spoke up, voice level so as not to startle any of them. "But… over the past few years, I've been studying human culture and history so that I can better understand your species. And… well, not to sound pessimistic or anything, but… based off past human activities… doesn't this sound like some sort of biological weapon?"

Scott wasn't aware that he'd been gripping his wrist with the opposite hand until his grip constricted tight enough to hurt. He inhaled sharply, forcing himself to release his hold. That part of him that he'd buried deep down years ago - with a promise never to examine ever again after that final session in his mandated therapist's office – was creeping to the surface, murmuring military tactics and scenarios best left to the history books of alternate realities. He hated it, detested it on a level so fundamental that it was coded into his very atoms.

Gordon shot him a knowing look.

"But this thing has destroyed the entire world," Kayo was saying, tone laced with confusion but not doubt, because she'd known cruelty in her life and wasn't naive enough to doubt that someone would be more than capable of ordering such a thing. "No one is benefiting. You can't even blame the Hood because we haven't heard a squeak from him."

"Hopefully he's dead," Parker muttered.

Gordon tried not to laugh.

"EOS has a point," Scott admitted, reluctant to voice his thoughts aloud. "A biological weapon in the testing phase that got out of containment… That's not such a far-fetched scenario."

"Great," Kayo growled, followed by a heavy squelch as she drove the blunt end of her gun into the skull of an infected that had refused to fall from a bullet alone. "So some asshole with a god complex fucked up and now we've got to clear up their mess. Do these people even consider how many millions, wait, no, billions suffer just because they want the ability to blackmail others with less power?"

"I'm not sure that's exactly how it works," Gordon said quietly. "But… if they changed this thing, adapted it into a weapon, that means that it's possible to… well, code it. Alter its DNA. If we get a sample, maybe Brains can do something similar so that we can undo all of this?"

"You want to bring this thing onto the island?" Parker sounded more baffled than horrified.

Gordon shifted from one foot to the other, clearly uncomfortable. He slowed as they approached the door at the end of the corridor, the comms stuttering with static once again. Scott reached out and snagged his brother's wrist before Gordon could reach for the door handle without running over any possible plan first.

"Gordon's right," he said, cutting off Parker's spluttered protests and Kayo's concerned queries. "I don't like it any more than you do, but if we're right and this thing is what's causing the infection, then Brains can't do anything to stop it without getting his hands on a sample."

"I still don't like it," Kayo muttered after a beat.

Scott released Gordon's wrist. His brother studied him with an unreadable expression.

"I know," Scott agreed quietly. "Trust me, if I didn't think this was necessary, I wouldn't be suggesting it. If I had my way, all of you would be on Mars right now. But… We have a job to do. We signed up to save the world years ago. This is how we continue to do that. No one said it was going to be easy. Sometimes there are no good options, and you have to pick the best of a bad bunch – this is one such moment. But Kayo, tell me honestly that you don't think this is our next move."

Silence bled across the airwaves.

"Fine," Kayo backed down. "Bring back a sample. But I want the minimum amount of people exposed to it. The four of us and Brains. No one else."

"Virgil's going to want to take a look," Gordon pointed out.

Kayo's sigh was biting. "Virgil too. No one else. I don't care how fucking interested anyone is, they steer clear unless they want me to knock them into next week."

"Hey, you know what would be cool?" Gordon's voice dripped with sarcasm. "If we could find out what's behind this door? Because even if this is a biological weapon that breached containment, that doesn't explain what the ever-loving fuck it's doing on this ship. The only way that would make sense would be if the GDF are the ones behind this. So. You know."

Scott repressed a shudder. "Keep the comms clear in case we need to make contact. Gordon and I are heading in now."

Kayo hesitated. "FAB," she agreed.

With the comms finally silent, Scott reached for the door. There was a flicker of a movement in his peripheral vision as Gordon wrapped his fingers tighter around the grip of his gun, shoulders high and rigid with apprehension. The dark fabric of his uniform blended with the shadows. He took a deep breath and answered Scott's questioning look with a single, sharp nod.


One of Scott's earliest memories did not, in fact, involve the sky or space or any flight-related scenario at all. Rather, it was located in a public swimming pool in Kansas that was relatively new at the time and therefore lacked the grime and used plasters and reels of human hair in the filters found at the majority of such places. This swimming pool had glittery blue tiles in the shallow end that was designated for younger paddlers. It also had a diving section where the floor plummeted into dark depths. Scott, a thrill-seeker from a very young age, had been entranced by this end of the pool.

"Do not ever go into the deep end without me," Jeff had instructed him. "It's dangerous."

"But I can swim there one day, right?"

"Yes," Jeff had agreed, fondly amused, bopping Scott's nose with his thumb. "One day, Scooter."

Really, the following occurrence had been Jeff's fault for not making it clear that one day did not mean the next visit to the swimming pool. But Scott had taken advantage of the distraction offered by a wailing John – who had been a little overwhelmed by all the loud noise and people – and set off on a beeline for those indigo waters at the far end of the pool, tantalising in their mystery.

He could still recall the exact moment he'd realised exactly how far out of his depth he was.

It was that instant of not quite panicking, but suddenly being very, very conscious of how small he was compared to the world. It was the moment of understanding that not everything in life was fun or a challenge to be overcome, as he felt that pit in his stomach and the darkness seemed to reach up and grab his ankles to drag him down. It was the second he realised that he was no longer in control.

All those years ago, Jeff had finally calmed his second son down to realise that he had completely lost track of his eldest. He'd had a lengthy conversation with Scott that evening about rules existing for a reason which was somewhat ironic coming from the man who had once claimed that the law was only really a set of guidelines 99% of the time. The point was that back then Scott had only felt that soul-consuming panic for a few seconds before his father had swooped in and chased it away again, bringing him back to safety.

Now, stepping into a room straight out of a horror movie – or perhaps Hell itself – Scott experienced that same feeling once again. Only this time he didn't have any exasperated parents around to save him. Actually, in this scenario, he was the closest thing to a parent because Gordon looked about two seconds away from a complete meltdown and Scott was the only person around to pull him back from the brink.

Scott had seen Gordon panic before. This was different.

This was the moment of realisation that they were very, very much out of their depth.

The room was a graveyard. It was a torture chamber. It held the scars of an apocalypse and the dawn of a new day in the dystopia that followed. Lights blinked on and off, but they weren't entirely necessary because their torches and the glow of their suits illuminated the space, reflecting off metal panels like a solar collector. At its centre stood a colossal tank of gigantean proportions. Broken shards of glass littered the floor around the sides where something had broken free in a violent explosion. Tendrils of green slime wound their way around the room, swallowing up chairs and control panels, infiltrating the vents above to access the pipes, seeking out new victims.

New victims because there were plenty of original ones right here.

Scott had seen dead bodies before, as a USAF captain and then as an operative of International Rescue. He wouldn't say he was immune to the sight, but he was more than capable of filing the emotional response away at the back of his mind to deal with later. But this wasn't normal. This was… He found himself silently thanking his brother when Gordon let out a choked sound and jolted close to him, pressing against his side, the point of contact keeping his heart rate from jumping through the roof.

The GDF agents in the room hadn't stood a chance. Whatever had gone wrong, whatever had led to the parasite erupting from the tank, had signed their death warrants in an instant. The parasite had consumed them so quickly and thoroughly that all that remained were bones, with a few oozing patches still clinging to the debris where organs had been liquified.

"S-Scott," Gordon was gasping, so that it was almost a sob. "What the fuck? What the f-fuck?"

It was impossible for skeletons to show emotion. Yet Scott swore he could read the fear off the burnt skull of the agent at his feet.

"I'm going to throw up," Gordon choked. "I didn't think… this is… what the… Scott, Scott, please, can we… I don't…"

"What… can… you… guys?" Kayo's transmission was brittle, interrupted by too much static to understand her questions, but her tone translated well enough even when broken up – concerned, a little fearful, that streak of over-protectiveness and stubborn perseverance that made her just as much a Tracy as the rest of them. "Hello?"

Where there wasn't slime, there was blood. Even through the rebreathers, the stench of copper and the rot of human flesh was overpowering. Everywhere Scott looked, there were bodies… more bodies than matched the crew manifesto. So many puzzle pieces didn't match.

That feeling of overwhelming powerlessness was so strong that he couldn't move. It was like he was rooted to the spot. Alarms were wailing again. A control panel – splattered in blood and gore and so many writhing tendrils of parasitic green that the displays were practically unidentifiable – flashed red. A skeletal hand lay discarded over one of the buttons – an emergency shutdown activation that had come too late.

"Scott."

Gordon's voice snapped him out of the trance. Because Gordon should never, ever sound like that, but this was the second time in less than forty-eight hours that Scott had heard that tone from him – the terror of a drowning man who could do nothing to save himself as he slipped under the surface.

No.

Not happening.

"Hey." Scott gripped Gordon's shoulders and knocked their helmets together. "Focus on me. Just me. C'mon, Gordon, I know you can do it." He softened his tone a little. "Just look at me, little brother. I've got you."

"This is so much bigger than us," Gordon gasped out, breathing dangerously close to hyperventilation. "That's… it k-killed them in seconds. It consumed them in seconds. What the fuck, Scott, what does this, what did they do, what kind of modification could even…? We can't stop this."

"Guys," Kayo finally managed to cut in as EOS boosted the signal. "Whatever you've found… I don't know what the hell is going on, but something's causing these last couple of infected to freak the fuck out. I've never seen them like this. It's like they're scared."

"They're runnin'," Parker interjected grimly. "They're trapped now, but…"

"They fled," Kayo whispered. "As soon as you opened that door, it was like someone had pulled a trigger. They panicked and fled but it was like something was physically preventing them from leaving… they sort of stuck to the ground, if that makes sense?"

Keep your food source nearby, Scott thought immediately. Gordon was still trembling under his hands. He gave his brother's shoulders a final squeeze and stepped back. "Gords, head back to Four. I've got to get that sample."

Even on the verge of full panic, Gordon was loyal to a fault. "I'm not leaving you behind. Not happening, not today, not ever." He swallowed, blinking back fear induced tears. "Get the sample and let's get outta here."

Something sinewy squelched under Scott's boots. He deliberately kept his gaze on the control panel. Looking down right now threatened to turn his stomach completely. Even the sight of the controls - slippery and thick with what seemed to be the mess of what had once been a human arm, turned to mush and dripping from the rim of the panel onto the heap of bones on the floor - were pushing him dangerously close to the edge. He reached for the tiny container that EOS informed him was included in his suit – Brains had thought of everything, unsurprisingly – and scooped some of the mess into it, sealing it thoroughly according to EOS's instructions. His glove felt sticky, and he wiped it against the back of the chair when a blinking light caught his attention.

"Scott," Gordon warned, voice wavering with nerves.

"I know." Scott waved a hand at him. "Just one moment."

It was a radio transmission. Scott pressed his palm to the scanner next to it so that EOS could infiltrate the system and access the message via the tech in his gloves. It only took about ten seconds, but it seemed like an infinity.

Back in the doorway, Gordon's anxious mumbles shifted to a shout of warning. Scott barely had time to snatch his hand away from the panel before his brother had hold of his arms and was yanking him backwards. A harsh sound of something ripping accompanied a strange sensation of heat in his calves. Warnings flashed up on his visor.

Alert: suit breach detected.

"Oh fuck," Scott summarised in a very eloquent manner thank-you-very-much. He was overcome by the hysterical urge to chuckle, because seriously, what even?

Gordon's grip on his arms tightened. "We've got to go, now. This thing wants more food and we're it."

Scott risked a glance down. The legs of his suit were smoking where tendrils of the parasite had ensnarled him and begun to eat through the fabric to access his skin. Had Gordon been a second later in noticing, he wouldn't be standing here. His heart seemed to stutter at the thought. It had been a long time since he'd feared death but the idea of dying like this was paralysing in its terror.

More tendrils snaked their way down the walls. Gordon was right – they had to go.

But Scott couldn't leave yet.

"What the hell are you doing?" Gordon shouted.

Scott yanked another wire out of the underside of the control panel. There was a pool of chemicals leaking from the base of what had once been the containment vat.

"You're right," he called over his shoulder. "This thing wants more food and it's not going to stop until it gets it. What happens when we leave? The next thing in its path is the island and we don't know if water will be enough to stop it."

"You're going to blow the ship up."

Scott gritted his teeth. He could feel the sparks flying off the wire even through his gloves.

"I'm going to blow the parasite up," he corrected. "Then I'm going to blow the ship up."

Gordon cast a final wide-eyed stare over the room's contents then ducked his head and made a beeline for Scott's side. His hands were shaking as he yanked more of the wires over to Scott.

"Here. It'll be quicker if we work together."

Scott didn't waste time arguing. "EOS, this is going to make a massive bomb, right?"

"Essentially, yes. You might want to leave now."

Scott turned and shoved his brother towards the door. "Gordon, go. I'll be right behind you."

Gordon recognised the Commander tone in his voice and obeyed without further complaint. Scott waited until he'd cleared the first five metres past the doorway before following him, flinging the wires over his shoulder.

He felt the beginnings of the shockwave before he heard it. His boots slipped on the rim of the door, and he instinctively dropped into a roll, skidding along the corridor a short distance before the momentum ran out. There was a crash as Gordon slammed the door shut. The entire ship seemed to rattle around them with the force of the explosion within the room. The first tendrils leaking from the pipes above blackened as though they'd been singed, then crumbled to dust.

Gordon caught Scott's hand and yanked him upright into a run. Around them, more and more of the parasite was turning to that fine powder, floating down from the ceiling like eerie snow.

"Is it dying?" Gordon asked breathlessly, vaulting over the remains of an infected and into the stairwell.

Scott kept pace with him. "That was the idea." It was getting hard to see past the parasitic dust and he wiped a hand across his visor to clear it. "Kill the heart, kill all the heads I guess."

"Like alien movies." Gordon grinned. "You know, like when you take out the mothership and all the little minions die."

"…so yes, exactly like alien movies."

Kayo was waiting for them on the top deck when they burst free of the doors. "EOS filled us in. How do you want to do this? Drop targeted charges from Four or use Shadow for an air attack?"

Out in the open air, Scott finally caught his breath. The faint tremors of an adrenaline crash were beginning to crawl up his legs. He was grateful for Gordon's arm around his shoulders, even if his brother's support was unintentional, purely seeking comfort.

"Technically," he began slowly. "We've probably killed the parasite that's on this specific ship. So… we could theoretically use it to gain more information, like you originally planned. But… Kayo, if I'm brutally honest…"

"Fuck that," Kayo told him. "Let's blow this bitch sky-high."

"Kayo," Gordon informed her fondly. "You are officially my favourite sister."

"I'm your only sister, dipshit."

He patted her shoulder. "And I wouldn't exchange you for anyone. Now…" He shuddered. "Can we please, for the love of all that is good and holy, get off this damn ship."


Review?

Kat x