Storm (The Storm Chronicles Book 6) by Skye Knizley

and fought against the pull.
    “Let go, dammit!”
    Bloody water fountained around him and he fell, flailing at the thick liquid. As he struggled ,his MP5 fired erratically into the walls, making Aspen and the team duck for cover. Aspen raised her shield and ran forward to the spot where he had been standing, her pistol aimed at the floor. But there was no sign of Brody or the creature that had taken him, just the acrid scent of gunpowder and sulfur. Kane joined her and probed the spot with his blade. The thick viscous liquid was only a few inches deep.
    “Impossible,” he said.
    “On most days, I would agree with you. But on this ship, impossible doesn’t mean much,” Aspen said.
    “What happened to him?” Mercy asked.
    Aspen shook her head. She felt cold, dead inside. She’d lost a man. “I don’t know, something dragged him away. Check…check the rooms on either side, but stay close.”
    She turned away and leaned against the wall, staring at nothing. Kane blocked her view of the corridor.
    “Aspen?”
    She couldn’t look at him. “Yeah?”
    “It wasn’t your fault. You warned him to stay closer,” Kane said.
    Aspen looked up at him. “Brody was right, I’m not a leader, I’m a lab tech.”
    Kane smiled. “Who says a lab tech cannot be a leader? As I said, you warned him—”
    “I should have done more than warn him. Raven would have brought him back, saved him,” Aspen said.
    “Do not be so certain, Aspen Kincaid. Brody has a mind of his own, he does what he thinks should be done, which is why he is not a team leader,” Kane said.
    Aspen blinked in surprise. “I thought he led this team.”
    Kane chuckled. “Until you, we were not a team, Aspen. With the exception of Mercy, we all work alone. I am impressed they have followed you so readily.”
    “Are you trying to make me feel better?” Aspen asked.
    “Perhaps. But it does not make what I said any less true,” Kane said.
    Aspen smiled her thanks and straightened; Mercy and Ford had returned from their sweep.
    “The closest four rooms are clear, nothing but furniture and detritus,” Ford reported.
    “Let’s get moving. We can search for him as we go, but stopping the Star is still our goal,” Aspen said.
    “What about Brody?” Mercy asked.
    Aspen took a breath. “We can look for him when our mission is done.”
    “He might be dead by then,” Ford said.
    “And if we waste time, a lot more people could die. We have no idea what is on this ship, but whatever it is, its powerful and dangerous. Ford, take point. Kane, back on the rear,” Aspen said.
    Ford shrugged and sloshed through the water. Aspen let her get a few paces ahead then followed, doing her best not to think about Brody. They moved beyond the next bulkhead and through a set of double doors into another hallway. This one was different than the last, however. The portside wall was a bank of windows that looked out on the Atlantic while the starboard was a series of white-painted doors that led to first-class staterooms. Outside, the fog still hung just above the deck, thick and grey. Aspen followed Ford down the corridor, her eyes on the doors beside them. A streak of blood ran down the wall, still wet and dripping. It looked as if it had been made by the hand of a giant, trailing his fingers down the wall as he lumbered along. At the corner, in the space between the floor and the wall, was a piece of SRT uniform smeared with blood and matted hair.
    “Something?” Mercy asked.
    “Just more blood,” Aspen said.
    She turned back to the corridor. Ford had slowed and was looking out the window to her right. Aspen looked and saw what had caught Ford’s attention. Something was moving in the fog. Black shapes about the size of a hawk, darting to and fro within the mist and getting closer.
    “Ford, get back!”
    Aspen started forward at a run, her boots splashing through the much. Ford looked at her in surprise and the window exploded inward in a shower of glass and blood.