Shadow Unit 15 by Emma Bull, Elizabeth Bear

weapon against Jason Saito is never to show fear, which means never feeling fear. "You think I'm going somewhere with you, Saito?"
    "I think you are," Saito comes closer, offering Brady his wrist shackles. Brady has a flashlight on his keychain, but he's not about to let Saito know that. Saito says, "I'm your best weapon right now. You got enough bullets for every gamma in Arkham? That's what Hafidha calls it."
    "You know I don't have a key for those," Brady says. "I don't have a key for the door, either. We're just going to have to wait it out until the lights come back on."
    And there's Saito, looming over him. Danny fights the urge to jump. He was, of course, expecting something like this. Saito coos, "Ooh, Danny. That felt good. Come on now. It'll be worth it just for the expression in your amygdala. You don't have a key, but there's somebody on the outside who does. Who's just waiting for you to ask to be released."
    "What makes you think I'm going to let you be my backup?"
    "I could make wild threats, you know. Say something like, 'On account of I will kill you right now and then you won't get to save anyone. I'll join the scrum.'" Then Saito sighs, as if he's even bored himself. "You forget, Danny-boy. I know what scares you most. It's your friends getting hurt when you can't help them—or worse, having to hurt them yourself. And your pet monster is out there in the dark, isn't she? Who knows what she's getting up to, in all those miles and miles of twisty corridors. Being in here is boring. I need a change, Dann-O. A catalyst. This is a sign. I'll help you if you help me."
    This is a bad idea, Brady thinks, and to himself he answers, No shit, Sherlock.
    He stands himself. Saito moves back, gives only a little room. He's still crowding Brady's personal space. Brady looms over him, but he doesn't feel in control.
    "The cuffs stay on," he says.
    "Talk rough to me, Danny," Saito purrs.
     
    *
     
    Hafidha crouches in blood, hoping her texts got through. The shoes are really one hundred percent ruined now: she can feel the sticky sliding wetness soaking in through their seams.
    The woman lies sprawled on her back, her wild hair spread out all around her and stuck to the floor. She's fallen out of her own towering open-toed shoes. Can't run in those, Hafidha thinks. Shouldn't have had to.
    Oh God. Oh, Kat.
    Hafidha reaches out a hand in the red-lit dark and touches Katharine Allison's arm. It's warm, and she's breathing—more than breathing, gasping. Because her blood volume is low, and her body wants oxygen.
    "Thirsty," Kat whispers.
    Hafidha strokes her sticky hair. She says, "It's me, Kat. It's Hafidha."
    "Hakes," Kat says.
    Hafidha knows. She knew as soon as she stepped into the corridor and caught the thick ocean scent of all that warm, wet blood.
    "I'll get him for you, Doc."
    "No...." No don't leave you can't leave you can't leave me
    Hafidha reaches to the tasseled bead bracelet on her right wrist, yanks it, and lets the elastic snap. "Zap," she whispers, and the heat that prickled across her scalp irons itself out.
    Or did Kat mean, No, don't risk yourself—
    Hafidha knows she'll never know.
    She wheezes. So much blood. Warm, so warm. Chuck Palahniuk always was full of shit. Kat says, "Henry... ran."
    Aw, hell. Doc was with Henry Clark. Henry... who isn't well. And he's out there now in the dark alone. At least it's May in Virginia, Hafidha reminds herself. At least it's a sunny day, and the Idlewood climate control is as dead as the generators.
    At least Henry's not going to get cold.
    Hafidha still feels sick. She's still watching a friend die, and there's nothing she can do.
    Except kneel in Dr. Allison's blood, except grab her doctor's hand, slick with her own life coating the tidy nails, the dainty watch on her wrist, except to try and get through to whatever hadn't drained out with the four pints on the floor.
    "Fuck professional distance. I'm here, Doc. I'm right here. You're not alone."
    Dr. Allison's