Luck has one last pass to offer. As Reid slumps sideways, something digs into the cut on his side, the pain jerking him into consciousness.
He sees them hovering over him, licking their obscene lips and shark teeth, reaching for him with their shining claws. His vision is split, wavering, doubled and as crippled as he is. Reid's fingers clench as they fall on him, the survivor in him remembering at last what the tube is for.
The plastic cracks under his final order to his fingers. Reid is amazed they obey him but grateful, too. He's done his best. It has to be enough.
It is. The hunters die around him, collapsing on top of his failing body, their faces horrible in their renewed humanity, white foam gushing out of their wide-open mouths. Reid shudders back from them but doesn't have the
