There's something in the water. A pharmaceutical company uses an industrial accident to test one of its designer diseases on the citizens of its private research community. Left behind without help, a group of survivors must find their way out of the nightmare--and avoid the man-made creatures that stand in their way.

Cynthia pumped her arms harder, pulling her injured leg along, starting to get a handle on driving her boots, her Tyvek suit swishing under her arms and between her legs, her hood heavy and disorienting.

"Cynthia!"

She was breathing heavily and her face shield fogged. "Which way!?" she cried, lost. "Which way!?" She screamed-

-and heard a screech in the hall behind her.

She kept running, coming up fast on a junction. "Which way!?"

There was a chilling and macabre shriek form behind her, followed by the thwack of inhumanly agile feet on the floor. "Which w-"

"Left! Left!"

She veered left-

-and felt the thing barrel past her as it lunged for her, clipping her shoulder. The collision sent her arm flying, causing her to accidentally pull the trigger on the gun and send a bullet into the floor. Tile shattered; she felt slivers of it slice into her suit, into the meat of her calf. But she didn't care, she just kept running.

She passed a gallery of animal cages, lab doors with names on them, and then at the end of the hall, a figure stepped into a view: It was Ben and his suit was half off. His blue eyes widened as he saw what was behind her. He leaned out of the doorway and beckoned with one arm, the other on the wheel of the hatch.

"C'mon!" It was the corridor outside the laboratory all over again. Except this time, Ben didn't have a gun. She had the gun.

And there's only one bullet left.

Didn't matter. She could feel the creature coming, feel it behind her, about to swipe her down. She was screaming as she ran and the Thin Thing screamed too. The pitch of its trumpet rose and arced through the air, the monster leaping again. She imagined its taloned arm raised, ready to strike and-

-she barrelled into Ben, pulled towards him by one strong arm as he hooked her around the waist like a player in Red Rover.

She fell into the room beyond as Ben let go. He was pulled backwards, nearly out into the hall as the Thing caught the empty part of his suit on its landing. Its talons went through the heavy plastic, shredding it.

Could've been me.

"The Door! Cynthia, the Door!"

She was already helping him pull it closed before she was on her feet. She held onto the bottom of the wheel handle and pulled, using her muscles as she wedged her feet under her, her leg screaming as she rooted her feet against the door's frame.

They almost got it closed, but the Thin Thing got hold of the outside and pulled. She looked up and could see Ben muscling the upper part of the wheel, his forehead against the porthole-separated from the monster's face by only inches of plexiglass.

The creature outside shrieked as it fought their efforts. Ben grunted, his face was red, sweat soaking his light bangs, his veins so prominent on his forehead that they looked like roots to the crop of blonde hair planted in the reddened soil of his scalp. "Pull!" Cynthia cried. "Pull!"

She tried to straighten her torso, to use it to lever the door, but the thing outside was just too strong. They were losing, they were going to have to run-

-the door came shut, faster than a mousetrap could snap. When the counterforce disappeared, they both fell backwards, thrown off their balance, and looked up; the creature was gone. It wasn't in the porthole; it had disappeared. Just like that, they were alone with the bleating alarms.