Free Absolute Zero (The Shadow Wars Book 4) by S. A. Lusher

came to a halt. Trent stopped thinking about darker days and stood up, readying his weapon. Anything could be waiting for them. He thought about the dark lizard things with a deep hunger for human gray matter, which was bad enough. But something was bothering him. The bones. The lizard men didn't explain the bleached bone.
    “Everybody out!” Sharpe called, coming back from the tiny cockpit.
    She led the way. Trent followed, rifle tucked into his shoulder. They moved through the small antechamber into the tram station. It was a wreck. Blood on the floor, bones, too, picked one hundred percent clean. The team spread out as they came into the area. Nothing moved. The emergency lights made the shadows deep.
    They crossed the room, the only sound that of Sharpe's litany, trying to get in touch with Sergio or anyone else on the team. No luck. They stopped short as they reached one of the only two doors out of the station.
    “Shit,” Sharpe muttered. “It's welded shut.”
    “Let's head to the other,” Trent replied, already turning and making for the opposite door.
    He approached it and hit the open button. Nothing happened. He sighed and hit it again. Nothing continued to happen.
    “Fuck,” he muttered, stepping back.
    Sharpe took his place and spent a moment trying to get the door open. Finally, she took a step back. “It's locked down. And I can't get it open. Trevor's on the other side of this and I don't suppose any of you know enough to hack it open?”
    No one spoke up. Sharpe sighed heavily. She looked around for a moment, then she looked up and a small smile took up residency on her face. Trent followed her glass gaze over to a large ventilation grate high on the wall.
    “Who wants to volunteer?” she asked.
    “I'll go,” Trent said.
    “Me too,” Drake said.
    Sharpe seemed to consider it for a moment, then nodded. They gathered beneath the vent and Sharpe boosted Drake up first, since he was the lighter of the two. He activated the vent grate, poked his head and his gun in, then hauled himself up and inside. Trent went next, just big enough that he could barely fit within as well.
    “Hurry back!” Sharpe called.
    “You got it, boss,” Trent said, not caring if she heard him or not.
    Up ahead, Drake was already crawling through the vents. He followed after the man's black combat boots. He found himself immensely grateful for the lack of bulk his suit offered, otherwise this little vent crawl would be extremely difficult. They moved for several moments in silence and an ethereal crimson light.
    “Man, this sucks,” Drake said after a moment.
    Trent chuckled. “Yeah, with you on that one. What do you think we should do when this craptastic little adventure is over?”
    “We have got to go back to Gibson Station.”
    “I'm somewhat tempted but...I've gotta disagree with you there. Security has a long memory and they'll probably have a hard-on for throwing us in lockup for at least a few days.”
    Drake shrugged the best he could in the vent. “Well, maybe. How about Lovelace Station? They've got that club...Trigger Finger.”
    “That's a gay club. Fun for you, boring for me.”
    Trent could practically hear Drake roll his eyes. “They've also got that club Red. You know, where all the girls are redheads?”
    “Holy shit, I actually forgot about that. Okay, yeah, Lovelace it is then.”
    They reached a turn in the vent and went around it. A paranoia of things occupying the vents with them crowded his thoughts, to the point that he started to think he was hearing things. Then he stopped.
    “Whoa, hold it,” he said.
    “What?” Drake asked, stopping.
    “Listen.”
    They remained still and silent, for several seconds. Trent was about to give the all-clear, then he heard it. It was a kind of rumble that, as they listened further, resolved into a series of rapid tapping sounds.
    It was coming from behind them.
    “Shit, where's the next exit?” Trent asked, as he shuffled forward and shoved at