The Freezing water slammed into Netoshka, tearing her from the ladder and hurling her down a narrow, flooded shaft. She crashed into Surgien, then Taran, the three of them tumbling through the black, churning water in a tangle of limbs and gear. There was no air, only a roaring, violent cold that filled her ears and lungs. Her head smashed against a protruding pipe, stars exploding behind her eyes.
Then, as suddenly as it began, the torrent spat them out. The water slowed, deepening into a placid, subterranean pool. Netoshka broke the surface, gasping, vomiting stagnant water. Around her, the rest of Inferius Squad bobbed up, choking and disoriented. Ron's flashlight flickered on, its beam cutting through the gloom to reveal a massive, circular overflow chamber.
"The Ladder!" Ron croaked, pointing a trembling hand at a rusted metal ladder bolted to the curved wall. "Move!"
They hauled themselves onto the corroded rungs, their bodies shaking uncontrollably from the cold. The climb was a fresh agony. Every muscle screamed in protest. Ron reached the top first, slamming his shoulder against a heavy metal grate. With a shriek of protesting metal, it gave way, dumping them onto cold, dry sand under a canopy of stars.
They lay there, heaving, on the eastern side of the mountain range. Grimshire was behind them. The Decapitators were, for now, out of sight.
Surgien forced himself up, his medic's instincts overriding his exhaustion. "Hypothermia. Lacerations. Concussion protocols for Netoshka. We've lost the last of our medkits in the flood. Ammo status is critical."
The assessment was a death knell for their combat effectiveness. They were down to pistols with a few rounds each. Alev's hands were too numb to spark a flame. Ron's shield was bent. They were bruised, battered, and barely armed.
Netoshka's comms buzzed. Lucretia's voice was a wire-thin signal. "Netoshka. Confirm your status."
"We're out. East of the mountains. We're alive. That's the best I can report," Netoshka rasped, her throat raw.
"Understood. Satellite confirmation. The Decapitator swarm is still consolidating in the urban zone, but their patrol radius is expanding. You need to move. Genrihk's team is en route to Turbine Station. Your objective is to rendezvous with them. That is the mission now."
The coordinates on Netoshka's wrist-comp glowed: dozens of kilometers across open desert. An impossible distance in their state.
Ron voiced what they all felt.
"You want us to walk? Now? We'll die of exposure before a single one of those scrap heaps finds us."
"We find shelter. Now," Netoshka ordered, her voice leaving no room for argument.
"We use the rest of the night to dry out, to rest near those rocks. At first light at dawn, we start walking. We are not dying here. We are getting to that Turbine no matter what to link back up with Genrihk's side."