Frost thickened over the broken street until it glittered like shattered glass.

  The air felt heavyndense enough to breathe wrong.

  The Spartor’s body pulsed with jagged light, each flare sharper than the last. Its chest heaved in short,

  violent bursts that sounded more like growls than breath. Frost thickened beneath its feet, erupting into

  spikes that cracked with every exhale. It was done calculating.

  Rage replaced its typical slow, methodical approach.

  The alien let out a guttural roar that shook the street a sound torn between thunder and metal grinding.

  Its muscles tensed, armor-flesh flexing as blue veins burned bright under its skin. Then it snapped,

  hands jerking up, energy spilling uncontrolled.

  Ice erupted outward.

  Then it moved.

  A flick of one hand, and shards of ice snapped through the air.

  Kyle, Abby, and Kate scattered without thinking. The first volley cut through the wreckage, slamming

  into metal with shrill cracks. Abby dove behind the burnt-out husk of a transport, ice splinters raining

  around her. Kyle rolled behind a broken barricade twenty yards away, lungs burning from the sudden

  chill. The cold bit deep, but for him and Abby it wasn’t new, after the Arctic mission, their bodies knew

  how to move through freezing air without locking up. Across the street, Kate ducked behind an

  overturned streetcar, clutching the stones she’d gathered, her breath coming in short, shocked bursts as

  the frost thickened around her.

  More ice bullets tore through the air, each flick of the Spartor’s fingers launching another barrage. The

  street filled with the sound of cracking frost and ricochets. Shards embedded themselves into metal and

  concrete, leaving clusters of frozen spines that steamed faintly in the firelight but refused to melt.

  Then the creature raised its other hand.

  Its fingers curled slowly, as if gripping something invisible.

  The ground trembled near Abby. Concrete groaned, splitting apart. The rubble beneath her boots began

  to rise in jagged chunks, lifting into the air piece by piece. She darted sideways, sliding behind a bent

  girder just as the slab she’d been using for cover rose clear off the ground.

  Kyle saw the movement from across the way. His chest seized with panic. “Abby move!”

  She sprinted just in time. The levitating debris exploded outward, spraying dust and metal shards. A

  boulder-sized chunk crashed where she’d been seconds earlier.

  Kate used the opening. She stood, drew back her arm, and hurled a rock with everything she had left.

  The pitch was pure muscle memory shoulder whip, follow-through, release.

  The stone hit the Spartor square in the jaw with a dull thock.

  The alien’s head snapped sideways, and with barely a pause it flicked its hand toward her. A swarm of

  ice bullets screamed through the air. Kate threw herself down behind the streetcar as the projectiles

  shattered glass and tore fresh holes in the metal shell above her.

  Abby barely had time to breathe before the rubble around her began to stir again.

  The Spartor lifted his arm, palm open, and the entire mound of wreckage rose with it. He twisted his

  wrist and the pile spun like a cyclone.

  “Damn it!” Abby shouted, diving again. She hit the ground hard as the mass of concrete and steel

  hurtled sideways, flattening the barricade she’d just used for cover. Dust and shards blanketed her back.

  When she looked up, the Spartor was already raising his other hand, palm glowing cold blue, ready to

  fire another volley.

  A blur crashed into his side.

  Kyle.

  He hit like a linebacker, driving the blade low and hard. The dagger punched through the alien’s flank

  just below the ribs. A thick jet of dark blue blood exploded out, splattering across Kyle’s arms and face.

  The liquid was colder than ice, burning where it touched his skin. He yanked the blade free instantly,

  remembering too well what happened when metal stayed buried.

  The Spartor roared, the sound shaking the windows of the surviving buildings. It swung wildly,

  catching Kyle with the edge of its forearm. The blow wasn’t clean, but the force still sent him spinning

  across the pavement. He hit hard, the air punching out of his lungs, and spat blood onto the frost.

  “Kyle!” Abby screamed.

  This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

  Kate threw another rock, then another, each one clanging uselessly off the alien’s armor but drawing its

  attention away from Kyle. The moment its head turned, Abby seized her chance.

  She grabbed a broken drone propeller lying near a heap of rubble, a jagged curve of alloy, edges

  wickedly sharp. The weight made her arm shake, but she swung anyway, using every ounce of speed

  she had left. The blade sliced across the back of the Spartor’s neck, leaving a deep diagonal gash that

  sprayed cold mist and blue blood.

  The creature howled, a low metallic screech that vibrated in their teeth. Its hands snapped outward both

  of them and the world answered.

  The ground erupted. Pavement cracked open, throwing up stones and dirt in a violent storm. Water

  from the broken mains joined in, freezing mid-air, turning the chaos into a storm of sand, rock, and ice

  bullets. The gust hit like a wall.

  Kyle dove behind a downed aircraft hull, chest burning with every breath. He pressed a hand against

  his side… blood. The earlier hit had broken ribs, maybe punctured a lung. Every breath hissed with

  pain. He crouched low, shielding his head as shards of ice and concrete screamed past. One jagged

  piece raked his back, tearing through his jacket. Warmth spilled down his spine, freezing almost

  instantly in the cold.

  The storm roared around him, slicing at his skin. He curled tighter, vision blurring. Every sound was

  muffled except the relentless hiss of debris.

  Then, silence.

  The wind died as fast as it had begun.

  Kyle forced himself upright, staggering out from behind the wreckage. His breath fogged in thick

  plumes. Across the field of rubble, the Spartor stood motionless, both arms slightly raised, frost

  swirling at its feet. Its breathing had steadied again. The blue blood running down its side slowed to a

  drip.

  Abby saw him turn and moved first. She sprinted from cover, the broken drone blade still in her hand,

  her steps crunching on the frozen debris. Kate saw it too, she lobbed another rock, shouting to draw the

  alien’s eye.

  It worked for a heartbeat.

  The Spartor caught the stone in mid-air, crushed it to dust, and spun toward Abby.

  She was already mid-leap.

  The alien’s hand shot out faster than she could react. It caught her by the arm, then swung, hurling her

  through the air like a rag doll. She hit a pile of twisted metal with a brutal clang. A sharp cry escaped

  her throat as she slid down the rubble then stopped. A length of rebar jutted clean through her abdomen.

  For a frozen moment she stared at it, shock smothering the pain. Then gravity pulled her off the spike,

  and she fell to the ground. Blood pooled fast and dark beneath her.

  “Abby!” Kyle’s voice cracked.

  He took a step, but his knee gave out. Every muscle screamed. He could only watch as she pushed

  herself onto her hands and knees, trembling, blood dripping onto the frost.

  The Spartor turned toward her. Its chest rose once, slow and deliberate. It began to walk.

  Kate screamed, flinging another rock that clanged off its shoulder. “Stay away from her!”

  The alien didn’t even glance her way. It closed the distance, blue eyes burning.

  Abby staggered upright. Her legs shook, one hand clutching her side to keep pressure on the wound.

  She lifted her chin, defiant despite the blood running down her arm.

  The Spartor stopped about eight feet away. Frost spread under its feet again. Its hands rose, fingers

  splayed. The debris around it began to tremble small pieces first, then larger ones. Chunks of stone,

  broken girders, and slabs of concrete lifted slowly into the air, orbiting above like satellites.

  Abby’s breathing came in short gasps. Her eyes darted between the hovering debris and the alien’s

  expressionless face.

  Then the Spartor clenched its hand.

  The suspended wreckage twisted together, forming a jagged mass the size of a truck. The creature’s

  arm lifted higher, as though willing the pile above its head to obey.

  Kyle could only watch, helpless, pain blurring his vision. Kate was shouting something he couldn’t

  hear, another rock in her hand.

  Abby straightened, blood still dripping from her fingertips. She met the creature’s gaze, unflinching.

  The Spartor’s fingers began to turn.

  The mountain of debris groaned above her, ready to fall.