James Dashner - The Eye of Minds

“And how do you expect to fight those things off when they pounce on us?” Bryson asked.

“Don’t let them bite you,” Sarah answered.

Ronika pointed to the screen. “We just have to make it up those stairs outside the door. Somehow Kaine’s blocked me from contacting my security detail. But once we’re to the top and into the main section of the club, my bouncers will swarm and be too much even for the KillSims.”

“Okay. To the door, then,” Michael said. “And up the stairs. No problem.” But the truth was, terror raced through his body, making it hard for him to breathe.

“We need to stick together,” Sarah added. “Stay in a pack.”

Michael got onto his hands and knees, ready to crawl through the secret door. “Bryson, you’re closest, so you’ll have to go first.”

“Figures,” he replied.

Michael knew Bryson was kidding, but he was right. It shouldn’t be him at the front. Michael pushed his way past Sarah and then Bryson to get to the exit. “No—I got us into this mess,” he said. “I’ll go first.”

“But now if you die I’ll feel bad,” Bryson whined.

Michael liked that his friend was at least trying to keep his sense of humor. “You’ll just have to live with it.”

As soon as everyone was lined up behind Michael, he slowly pushed the small wood panel open. Something like candle glow filled the dimly lit room, making everything ethereal and warm. It felt peaceful, but Michael knew the truth: violence hid in every shadow.

He studied the wall directly ahead of them. He couldn’t make out any distinct shapes; aside from those yellow eyes, it was just shadow on top of shadow. Michael tried to focus to get a count of how many creatures there were, but an odd thing happened—the yellow eyes vanished when Michael looked directly at them. He turned his head and they came back into view in his peripheral vision. So far nothing had moved. Maybe they were waiting for Kaine to give further orders.

Michael kept his gaze averted and carefully inched forward, moving out of the hidden compartment, then edging along the wall, heading for the door. The rug under the furniture gave way to tile, which hurt Michael’s knees as he crawled. The digital growl started up again, and he saw a flash of yellow in the gaping hole the creatures had torn in the wall—only about twenty feet away. Michael stopped.

Bryson bumped into him. “Keep going!” he whispered, so loudly he might as well have said it in a normal voice.

Michael stole a glance at his friend. “They might attack if we move too fast.”

“They might kill us if we don’t!”

Silence settled on the room for a few seconds; then the growling began again. The rumbling static rolled through Michael’s body. It was impossible to tell where it was coming from. He sucked in a huge breath and started forward.

When the door was only ten feet away, Michael pulled himself up into a crouch, ready to make a run for it. Movement caught his eye to the right. He turned to look, and it was as if the darkness had melted and splashed onto the floor. Then it coalesced into the same wolf shape he’d seen earlier, yellow eyes blazing like pinpricks of fire. Michael looked directly into the glowing gaze and the eyes seemed to disappear; then a shattering scream erupted from the creature. Michael’s hands had barely flown up to cover his ears when the sound stopped, replaced by the strange growling, like an old-school computer buzzing its last moments of life.

He now had no doubt that what they’d guessed was correct. These things just wanted to guard them, make sure they didn’t leave. Kaine was coming.

And Michael didn’t plan on being there when he showed up.

Michael averted his gaze, and the creature’s eyes came back into focus; then he slowly stood from his crouch, sliding up against the wall behind him. On instinct, he put his hands out as if to pacify the beast, but he knew it meant nothing to the antiprogram.

“I’ll open the door,” he whispered to the others. “You guys run for it.” The words came out before he realized that the plan meant he’d be the last one to leave the room. And most likely the first to get attacked.

“Let’s do it,” Bryson replied.

Michael nodded. “Now.”

He ran to the door, reaching for the knob just as he noticed the KillSim’s head jerk back. Something told him Kaine was watching through those yellow eyes and was shocked to see that Michael and his friends weren’t waiting around, cowering in fear. Michael’s fingers curled around the cool metal of the handle and he twisted it, swung the door open just in time for Bryson to flash through the opening. Terrible piercing screams tore through the air, and a blur of movement caught the corner of Michael’s vision as Sarah ran through, then Ronika.

He was right on her heels. He reached back and grabbed the handle, started to pull the door closed behind him. It was five or six inches from slamming shut when something ripped the whole thing from his grasp, tearing the door from its hinges.

He bolted forward just as Bryson got halfway up the stairs.

“Go! Go! Go!” Michael yelled.

Then something was on his right shoulder. Heavy and sharp. It slammed him to the floor, knocked the air out of his lungs. Gasping for breath, he twisted onto his back, kicked and punched at the huge thing pinning him to the ground. Two yellow lights stared down at him, but everything else was darkness and shadow, seeming to alternate in form between solid and vapor. Michael heard footsteps on the stairs, heard Sarah call his name. Other dark shadows leaped over the one attacking Michael, barking their awful noises. Human screams followed almost immediately. It was an ambush.

The KillSim started battering Michael with four massive fists, as if it had changed its shape from canine to human. For a brief moment Michael pictured his real body back in the Coffin, thrashing as the different elements of AirPuffs and LiquiGels and NerveWire made him feel every last pounding of the creature. It was his own fault for choosing the most realistic Coffin on the market.

Adrenaline burned inside him. He gathered all of his strength and kicked out with both legs, connecting with the KillSim’s middle. It flew off him and slammed into the wall of the short hallway between the door and the stairs.

Even as the creature crouched for another attack, Michael was scrambling backward. He hit the opposite wall, then climbed to his feet. The thing jumped, its yellow eyes flashing as it flew toward him. Michael dove to his left to avoid it, leaping back to the ground toward the stairs, and heard its body crash behind him. On his feet again quickly, he turned to see that the thing seemed dazed, slowly trying to right itself on wobbly legs of shadow.

Madness surrounded Michael. The other KillSims had attacked his friends and Ronika, all of whom were fighting to get free. He watched Sarah get loose from her monster, kicking it in the face so that it tumbled down the stairs. Bryson was almost to the door at the top, punching and clawing. Ronika was in the worst shape, just a few feet away from Michael. The KillSim on top of her had pinned each of her limbs to the ground. Its mouth was yawning open above her, the jaws stretching impossibly wide as if it planned to swallow her entire head with one bite.

Michael moved forward to help, but just as he did, a creature pounced on him from behind. It threw him to the right, cutting a gash in his left shoulder. His head slammed into the wall and he collapsed, stunned. He’d barely recovered when the KillSim landed on him and knocked him onto his back, pinning his arms to the ground. Michael still couldn’t focus on its true form, but a dark wolf-shaped head leaned in closer to his face and the creature snarled its mechanical growl.