Page 17 of Monster Queen Rising

"Burn it."

Rough. But clear.

I press Enter.

A red warning light flashes over the vault door.

THERMAL PURGE INITIATED.

The automated countdown begins. A woman's voice. Emotionless.

"Thirty."

"Twenty-nine."

"Twenty-eight."

Beneath it, the constant compressor hum I've felt in my teeth since we walked in sputters, catches, then dies.

The air loses its chill almost immediately. Without the cooling system, the archive will become an oven.

Paper.

Plastic.

Blood.

Samples.

Forty years.

Gone.

"Out," Thaw says.

We move. Harek off the wall to take the stairs first, Thaw behind him with the records, me with the directory, Fen at my back. Red light strobing on the landing.

One flight up. The south door. We push out into the bright cold.

Daron is at the wheel. Madison has not moved. Dean, in my ear: "Vance in the prisoner truck. Loading dock clear. Rolling to rendezvous."

Thaw lays the records on the back floorboard, the directory on top. "Let’s go," he says.

Fen has not gotten in. He faces the trees, and the sky beyond them.

I can feel it. The adrenaline. The restless pull under his skin.

"Go fly," I tell him.

My hand settles against my chest.

"I can feel you from here."

His eyes meet mine.

"Just stay close."

He nods. Then he turns toward the tree line and shifts—wings spreading, and he's airborne.