The moment the spider-like creature lunged, Vivian acted without thinking.

  She snatched the metal IV stand beside her and shoved Kara and the two injured soldiers behind her, her grip white-knuckled on the cold steel. The creature's grotesque form moved with unnatural speed, long limbs clattering across the infirmary floor, its cluster of black, glassy eyes locked on them.

  Vivian didn’t flinch.

  With a fierce cry, she swung the IV stand upward and drove it into one of the creature’s many eyes. A sickening crunch followed, and the creature shrieked—a high, rattling sound that tore through the sterile air and rattled in their bones.

  “Kara—GO!” Vivian shouted, breathless, eyes wild. “Get them out—NOW!”

  But Kara hesitated, staring in horror at the beast, while the two injured soldiers she supported stood frozen, unsure if running would help or seal their fate.

  A movement at the corner of her eye made Vivian’s stomach drop.

  One of the patients—a boy no older than twenty, his arm in a sling and leg wrapped in bloodied gauze—was standing near the main entrance, paralyzed by fear, eyes wide and glassy. He hadn’t moved.

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  And the creature had noticed him.

  “No—!” Vivian bolted toward him, her boots skidding slightly against the tile. “Move! You have to move!” she screamed, desperation clawing at her throat. But the boy didn’t react—didn’t blink.

  The creature turned toward him with a hiss, its limbs curling and recoiling like tensioned wires ready to spring.

  Vivian grabbed a metal tray from the supply table and flung it at the creature with all her strength. It struck the beast in the side of the head, just enough to make it recoil with a guttural sound of irritation.

  “Kara, go! Take them and GO!” she yelled again, her voice sharper, more commanding this time.

  Then she was running.

  She reached the boy just as the creature lunged. With every ounce of strength, she wrapped an arm around him and shoved him to the side, sending them both crashing to the floor. The creature’s clawed limb scraped the floor where he had just stood.

  Vivian scrambled up first, positioned herself between the boy and the creature, and once again rammed the IV stand into another eye. The creature screeched louder, convulsing in place.

  Her own breath came in ragged gasps. Blood was running down her side again—her wound had reopened. Her vision blurred slightly at the edges, but she stood tall, holding the IV stand like a makeshift spear, body braced, jaw clenched.

  Then—

  Gunfire exploded.

  Bullets tore into the creature from the side, making it rear up and screech in agony.

  “Vivian!” she heard someone yell—Gator’s voice.

  Razor’s team had arrived.

  Gator, Shadow, and Whiz fired in quick bursts, moving with precision. Razor was the last through the door, eyes scanning, calm but lethal.

  The creature shrieked again and suddenly leapt toward the window.

  Glass shattered as its body crashed through it, spider limbs scraping along the frame before disappearing into the dark.

  Silence fell, thick and heavy, broken only by Kara’s shuddering breath and the distant echo of the base sirens.

  Vivian staggered, still gripping the IV stand.

  Shadow holstered his weapon, looking stunned. Gator rushed forward to steady her, and Whiz was already moving to check the wounded.

  Razor’s eyes locked with hers—gray, cold, assessing. But there was something else flickering behind them.

  Vivian looked down at the boy she’d saved. He was breathing, still trembling, but alive.

  “Everyone’s okay,” she whispered, like she was trying to convince herself.

  But deep down, she knew this wasn’t over.