She looked at him for a second longer.
She wanted to argue.
She wanted to help.
But she knew if she stayed out there, she might only slow him down.
Her teeth sank into her lower lip.
She nodded.
"Stay inside the locker," he said quietly. "Don't make a sound."
She swallowed and moved.
She slipped between the hanging hazmat suits, pushing aside a stiff yellow sleeve and stepping into the narrow metal locker. It smelled like old rubber and dust. She pulled the door almost closed, leaving it cracked just enough to see through the thin slats.
From inside, the decon room felt tighter.
The air felt heavier.
Metallic.
Malcolm positioned himself near the inner doorway that led deeper into the plant. He didn't stand in the open. He flattened against the wall beside the frame, shotgun angled low but ready.
Outside, the clicking shifted.
Closer.
Short bursts. Testing.
They hadn't made a sound.
But it followed.
It knew where they ran.
