The silence shattered before she could even think of an answer.

  Something hissed from the shadows and slammed into the creature’s side. The impact rang sharply off its shell. The beast shrieked, its many eyes flaring as it spun toward the dark.

  Lisa dropped lower and looked to her right, following it to the end of the hall.

  They came in formation. Twenty kids, maybe more, advancing step by step. Their weapons looked absurd in the clear light, but deadly all the same: mop handles sharpened to tips, broomsticks flashing taped knives.

  The front row stopped and crouched low, long shafts angled for the creature’s legs. Behind them, another row leveled theirs high, aiming for the body.

  “Spears!” a voice rang out.

  From the rear, two more launched through the air. The first slammed into the floor, bouncing and sliding away. The second found its mark, punching deep into the creature’s flank. White fluid sprayed across the tile in a gushing splatter.

  The line then pushed forward. More poles came down from behind. Some spears bounced off the thing’s armor, but others bit deep. The spider thrashed, smashing lockers, spraying webs everywhere. But the kids didn’t break. They moved as one, breathing the same way, short and sharp, timing their attacks to match.

  Pinned to the floor, Lisa kept her arms over her head. For a second it was like watching a scene ripped out of a movie, all these ordinary high school students turned into warriors, working together like a machine.

  Leading them was none other than Derek Santos, the kid from her Latin class, still wearing his dark honors robe. He had a textbook in one hand and a water bottle in the other. He threw the water at the creature and it hissed where it struck.

  “Exi, tenebra!” he shouted. Depart, shadow!

  “Lux venit! Lux manet!”

  The light comes! The light remains!

  Lisa could hardly believe what she was seeing. Derek Santos, the quiet kid who sat three rows behind her and never spoke unless called on, was the last person she expected to find at the front, commanding this strange force.

  Behind the fighters came others: younger kids, carrying the wounded or dragging stretchers made of fabric. A janitor’s cart rattled forward on squeaking wheels, and three girls from chemistry class rode inside, wide-eyed, staring at Lisa as though she were the strange one in all this.

  Step by step, they drove the thing back into the main corridor. Derek’s voice echoed off the walls:

  “The light comes! The light stays!”

  Then they were gone, chasing it deeper into the school.

  Lisa pushed herself up, legs shaking, and ran. Her shoes stepped on the white gunk as she rounded a corner. Hands grabbed her from behind and pulled her into an empty classroom. The door slammed shut.

  Four guys stood there looking at her. She recognized two of them from her grade.

  “We saved you,” said Tyler Morrison, grinning. He was breathing hard and his eyes had a weird gleam. “You owe us one.”

  “Yeah,” said another kid. “Maybe a thank-you kiss?”

  Lisa’s stomach dropped. “Let me out of here.”

  “Come on, don’t be like that—”

  “Holy shit,” someone whispered. “Look at Danny.”

  The kid by the window had gone completely still. His eyes were turning black, like ink spreading through water.

  “Oh fuck,” Tyler breathed. “Danny? Danny, man, talk to me.”

  Danny smiled. It wasn’t his smile. He pulled out a knife.

  “When did he turn?” another kid demanded, backing toward the wall. “When did it happen?”

  Danny’s grin got wider.

  Lisa didn’t wait around to see what happened next. She hit the door, fumbled with the lock, and ran as the screaming started behind her.

  The hallway loomed ahead in many turns. She needed to find the science wing. Somewhere safe. She tried to picture the fire drill diagram she’d seen earlier, the little arrows pointing toward exits, but everything blurred together in her mind.

  Left at the main corridor? Or was it right? She couldn’t tell anymore. The fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting their sickly yellow strobes. What had once been familiar ground now looked like a maze. Identical doorways, endless stretches of walls. Her breathing came in ragged gasps.

  She turned a corner, then another, panicking. Nothing looked right. Everything looked the same.

  She slipped on the tile, shoes squeaking, when a hand caught her shoulder.

  Lisa jumped, raising her fists before she could think.

  “Easy.”

  Juno. She stood in the stairwell, eyes running over Lisa.

  “Jesus! You scared the hell out of me.” Lisa let out a shaky breath. “I thought—”

  “Yeah, I know what you thought.” Juno released her, hands raised. “If I were one of them, you’d already be on the floor. You’re welcome.”

  Lisa nodded slowly. Still rattled, but grateful to see Juno all the same.

  Juno’s gaze hardened. “Why the hell weren’t you headed for the safe room? That’s rule one. Straight there, no detours.”

  “I tried,” Lisa said, her voice breaking. “The halls… they all looked wrong. I couldn’t find it.”

  The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  Juno leaned against the railing, arms crossed. “That’s the Game for you. Scrambles your head until you’re chasing your own tail.” She pointed her thumb toward the hallway. “Good thing Theo’s comms flagged you, or you’d still be out here playing maze runner.”

  Lisa blinked. “Wait… those things actually work?”

  Juno’s mouth twitched, not quite a smile. “Worked enough to get me to you, didn’t they?” She wrapped a hand around Lisa’s arm. “Now stop wandering blind. HQ’s this way.”

  Juno’s grip was firm as she pulled Lisa along the corridor. They stopped at the science wing door, just outside the storage room. Juno dug in her pocket for the key, then paused and glanced at Lisa.

  “You do it,” she said.

  Lisa blinked. “What?”

  “You’ve got the spare. From before, right? Let’s see if you’re smart enough to use it.”

  Her heart skipped, but she unzipped her bag, fumbling until her fingers closed on the cold brass piece. The key slid into the lock with surprising ease. She twisted. The door gave with a dull click.

  Inside, the room felt charged, humming with static. The mess of desks and lab benches had been shoved into stacks, barricading the walls. At the far corner, a glow flickered: Theo hunched over a desk, headphones clamped tight, a microphone in one hand. The screen of his tablet lit his face in pale blue.

  The radio beside him crackled, faint voices breaking through.

  “—this thing even working?” Amir’s voice came, a little tinny.

  Theo adjusted a dial, eyes moving to the tablet. “Clear enough. Quit whining.”

  Another voice chimed in, lower and steadier. Javi. “I’m at the east wing. Still getting you.”

  “Barely,” Amir muttered. “Sounds like you’re talking through a sock.”

  Theo pressed the transmit button, smirking. “Maybe it’s just your ears, gentlemen. Try cleaning them sometime.”

  Static fizzled, then the line went quiet. Theo leaned back, satisfied.

  That was when the girls slipped inside and locked the door behind them. Lisa opened her mouth to speak—

  Theo silenced her with a sharp finger to his lips. His other hand beckoned her closer. “Quick,” he whispered. “It’s about to happen.”

  Lisa and Juno edged nearer. On the tablet’s screen, a camera feed showed one of the corridors. The spider-creature filled the frame, its pale body jammed against a classroom door. Hooked legs raked the wood and metal again and again, each strike throwing sparks across the floor.

  Lisa leaned closer to the glow. “What’s it doing?”

  “It’s feeding,” Theo murmured. “Drawing from the door. It’s pulling energy every time it claws.”

  Beside the video, data streamed in columns. Numbers jumped and blurred, one of them climbing fast. Below, a bar filled in sharp increments, pulsing with each furious scrape.

  Juno hissed through her teeth. “Some idiot picked the most obvious hiding spot,” she muttered. “And now the Moner’s juicing up on them.”

  Lisa tore her eyes from the screen. “So why keep the door shut? Whoever’s in there is just making it stronger. Why don’t they run?”

  Theo cut her a look, dry and sharp. “Would you?”

  The progress bar hit full, and for a moment Lisa thought her heart might explode. The numbers froze. Then another counter on the screen lit up, ticking higher. The bar reset, empty, and began filling again.

  “There,” Theo said sharply.

  On the monitor, the spider stilled. Its body seemed to swell, light seeping from beneath its pale hair. For a handful of seconds, it shone so bright it nearly burned the lens. Then the glow faded, leaving it hunched and silent.

  Lisa realized she was holding her breath. “What,” she muttered. “What just happened?”

  Theo’s fingers flew over the tablet, chasing the streams of data. He couldn’t hide the thrill in his voice. “It leveled. Upgrading. That’s the second time I’ve caught one in the act. And now I’ve got the numbers to prove it.”

  “Great,” Juno said, throwing her hands up. “Just fantastic. Now what the hell are we supposed to do? That thing just powered up like some kind of—”

  “Video game boss,” Theo finished, eyes still glued to the data streams. “And we have no idea what it gained yet. Could be stronger webs, sharper claws, better vision—”

  “Could be it eats faster,” Juno shot back. “Or maybe it just learned how to kick the door in. Either way, we’re screwed.” She started pacing the small space between the barricaded desks. “We’re flying blind here.”

  “That’s what makes it interesting,” Theo said, glancing up from the tablet. “The data suggests—”

  “I don’t want it to be interesting!” Juno snapped. “I want it to be predictable and—” She stopped mid-sentence, staring at the screen. “Where did it go?”

  Theo’s head turned to the monitor. The corridor was empty, sparks still glittering on the floor where the creature had been. “What the—”

  His fingers tapped across the tablet, switching between camera feeds. Hallway after hallway flashed on screen. All empty. The cafeteria. The main lobby. The east wing stairwells.

  “Come on, come on,” he muttered, cycling through the feeds faster. “Something that size doesn’t just vanish—”

  The screen flickered to another corridor. Theo froze.

  There, walking slowly down the center of the hallway, was Mia. Her head was down, hair falling across her face in dark curtains. Her steps were measured, deliberate, exactly like—

  “Oh no,” Lisa breathed. “That’s how we saw her this morning.”

  Theo’s face went pale. “I… don’t know what to make of this.”

  Juno whipped around to look at them. “Hold up. What are you talking about? What morning?”

  Lisa exchanged a glance with Theo. “We saw her earlier,” she said. “Before school started. She was with Daryl outside, and he was trying to get her to leave with him.”

  Juno’s voice climbed an octave. “Jesus Christ, you two! How am I supposed to keep people alive if no one tells me anything?”

  Theo ignored her and snatched the mic. “Amir, Javi. We’ve got eyes on Mia in the east hall. Can you intercept? Repeat, Mia’s in the corridor—”

  Static hissed back, Amir’s voice buried in it. “…say that again? Did you just—Mia?”

  “Mia!” Juno shouted into the mic. “Corridor B-3! She needs help!”

  More static. “—can’t make out—repeat—”

  Juno slammed the microphone down. “Useless.” She grabbed a wooden stake from the weapons pile and headed for the door. “I’m going myself.”

  “Juno, wait—” Lisa called after her.

  But Juno was already unlocking the door, her jaw set with determination. “Forget it. If none of you are gonna move, I will. Someone has to actually do something around here instead of just watching screens.”

  She slipped out, the door clicking shut behind her.

  Lisa and Theo stared at the monitor. Mia continued her slow walk down the corridor, never looking up, never acknowledging the camera that tracked her movement.

  “This doesn’t feel right,” Lisa whispered.

  On another feed, Juno flashed across the halls, sprinting past doorways and shadows.

  “Stupid,” Theo muttered under his breath. “She doesn’t even—”

  The radio crackled to life again, clearer this time. Amir’s voice came through urgent and sharp.

  “Theo! Theo, are you there? Pick up the damn thing!”

  Theo grabbed the microphone. “I’m here. What’s—”

  “You’re all idiots,” Amir’s voice cut through the static, panic in his words. “Complete fucking morons.”

  Theo frowned. “What are you talking about?”

  “Mia,” Amir said, his breathing heavy. “Mia is right here. She’s been with me the whole time.”

  The microphone slipped from Theo’s fingers.

  On the screen, the figure in the corridor stopped walking. Slowly, deliberately, she raised her head and looked directly into the camera.

  She smiled.

  Juno’s boots slapped the tile as she pushed forward, her hands gripping the wooden stake at her side. Rage propelled her, hotter than fear.

  They always kept her out of the loop. Theo with his smug data, and now Lisa with her wide-eyed confusion. Meanwhile she was the one dragging people out of hallways, getting cut up and bruised because someone had to actually act.

  “Fine,” she muttered to herself, breath sharp. “I’ll be the one to clean it up. Again.”

  The fluorescents above buzzed, flickering every few steps. She turned the corner, and froze.

  The reality struck her cold and fast. Pale hair. Limbs bent at impossible angles. Every instinct screamed at her. That wasn’t Mia.

  A sound rolled from the hall, a wet rasp, too loud to come from a girl’s throat.

  And then the shimmer peeled away.

  Slowly, Juno let the stake slip from her hand. It was useless here.

  She dropped low, pulling the garrot line free, the wire glinting in the buzzing light. Her muscles tensed, tight and ready.

  The creature seemed to sense the change in Juno’s stance, processing this new threat. It lowered itself slightly, powerful legs coiling like organic springs ready to unleash devastating force.

  Boots echoed down the hall. Two shadows lengthened against the walls. Amir first, breathing hard, flip knife trembling in his grip. Javi followed, jaw tight, holding a broken chair leg like a club.

  “Holy shit,” Amir breathed when he saw it. His eyes moved between the monster and Juno.

  “No kidding,” Juno muttered, eyes locked on the beast. She pulled the garrot line between her hands. “Took you long enough.”

  The spider hissed, threads dripping from its maw, the sound sharp enough to sting their ears.

  Juno bared her teeth in a grin, her pulse steadying, sharpening. “All right, boys,” she said, crouching low. “Let’s dance.”