Saving Rachel and Sveta

The gas was putting a million holes in the flesh of Titan Oberon, some large enough to fit a basketball in, some only big enough to dig a finger into. And despite my efforts to spin and fan the gas away, it was creeping closer to my best friend and Rachel.

I saw it graze the dog's foot, and I saw flesh turn red and raw, boils appearing and popping to reveal perfect cavities and deep channels where there had been flesh before.

"Fall!" I ordered.

Sveta fell for a moment, then stopped herself, her arms dividing up into ribbons to catch onto prongs. Rachel was staying put, stubborn.

"Fall!" I ordered.

Rachel began working with the grappling hook again.

"Rachel, damn it!"

Sveta decided to instead yank Rachel off of her handhold. Another tendril caught the rope of the grappling hook and hauled it off-course so it wouldn't fall on or tear through the pair of them.

Diving, I had to avoid the hook. I caught them, and ensured my grip was secure without being bone-crushingly strong before pulling them away and toward a safe rooftop. I could feel Sveta under one arm, Rachel under another, the dog held uncomfortably by four more.

I deposited them on the surface, huffing for breath. Both women had a sheen of sweat from their exertion on their faces, breath fogging around their mouths. Rachel had a grip around one hand, which had a hole in it, the skin around the hole scarred. A trace of the gas.

- Radiation 18.4