"Alright, just tell me what you need me to do!" Martin said, raising the rifle and taking aim at the creature.
"Careful not to shoot me," Sydney replied, moving with fluid speed toward one of the steel spikes the enhanced infected had hurled earlier. The projectile was buried deep in the concrete floor. She grasped it firmly and worked it free.
The steel spike was nearly six feet long and weighed at least twenty pounds—a piece of industrial hardware that would have been challenging for a normal person to wield effectively as a weapon. But in Sydney's enhanced hands, it felt balanced and manageable, its pointed tip gleaming with lethal potential in the artificial light.
