In the distance he could almost hear the rising smoke, its tendrils worming through the red and gray torn sky like fingers of death. His breath came in short rapid bursts that would cost him his life if he wasn't careful. Quietly he gripped the plasma rifle and concentrated as if willing his heart to slow down, to calm down.
Then it happened.
He heard the screams of his comrades through the sound of the explosion. He reeled, automatic engrained senses and systems took hold and in a split second he had rolled free of his cover and was rapidly crossing the catwalk on the side of the building scanning for any signs of his group.
"Position compromised," he heard an older man's voice belt through the intercom, "Multiple agents lost. Fall back and scatter."
The line spasmed and went dead.
"Corrigan," he hissed into his helmet, "Corrigan do you read?"
Only static replied.
"Damn it old man."
Quickly he stopped and slid behind the next concrete pillar. His breath had sped up to the point of pain. He swallowed hard and peered around the cracked stone corner. He could see the ash was starting to settle on the open courtyard below like gray snow. He was lucky. The two fading heat signatures a floor above hadn't been so lucky.
"Shit," he swore again.
A flicker of movement made him pause, his head was in his hand and his knees pulled up tight. The moment's hesitation might have been his last-they were coming through the center of the open ruins now.
Gripping his rifle to his body he tensed for one brief second before he was on his feet and sprinting to the side of the catwalk. He didn't have to look to see that the shadows right beside him were bubbling away from the wall-he knew they were coming. He could feel the dread creeping into his lungs, spreading to his limbs and mind.
Hoisting himself onto the balcony while still on the run his legs pushed hard and propelled him into the air above the shattered courtyard. For a brief second his stomach enjoyed weightlessness before his rifle caught in the middle of the trip wire and he grabbed the end of the rifle with his free hand. He swung out slightly before gravity propelled him along the length of the cable to the carnage below.
As he was nearing the ground he could feel that something was wrong before the line snapped. He grabbed the gun and tucked it to his body as the ground was fast approaching. With the seasoned grace of a cat he hit and rolled twice along the disheveled cement. His helmet lay a few feet from where he landed and, unlike, him apparently didn't always land on its feet. Blue and purple sparks arced from the shattered half visor.
His shining eyes and coal black hair seemed to sparkle in the fetid wind as the last vestige of lights danced across the sky. He stayed perfectly still, every muscle and sinew in his body tensed, his heart racing ever forward. Pain was no longer a concern.
Suddenly the courtyard erupted in a spray of debris and flame as maybe two-dozen shadows sprang from every nook and cranny of the ruined building. They seemed to be made of the inky darkness itself but he knew better. As he watched, the shadowy substance melted from their bodies leaving a dark gunmetal hide, one gleaming red eye and claws shaped like a multitude of pruning shears. As quickly as they came, they rapidly spread out to block off the hole in the side of the building where the shell had hit only moments ago.
All in unison their heads snapped up, claws tensed with mechanical precision and their bleating red light filled the arena. They then began to move as one, slinking like unnatural nightmares across the war torn courtyard.
Springing up he rushed the nearest creature and fired three rapid pulse shots into its chest. The creature stumbled slightly but kept coming. The young man hurtled himself at the robot, his weight catching the creature off guard enough to toppled it backwards. As his hands caught the cement flooring he flexed his spine in one quick movement and was on his feet once more.
The creatures took only moments to react, their claws swiping downwards at their smaller prey. Amazingly he ducked the first set of claws and kicked back against the second creature behind him. Narrowly missing evisceration, he managed to get to the side of the structure. Tumbling past the final two robots he grabbed hold of the rifle and fired a barrage of pulses at the nearest robots. Again the creatures spasmed for a brief second then stopped. All of the creatures paused, as if surprised by his actions. The first robot looked back at the man in what he swore looked like amusement. The black face of the robots seemed to melt for half a second only to be replaced by the once handsome features of a man.
"Allan," he cried, his eyes brimming, "I...."
All at once they sprung at him, claws outstretched to claim their prize.
"Shit," he swore. Quickly he flipped backwards and braced himself in mid-air against the ruined stone steps just inside of the courtyard. As the dark assassins turned to face him, he kicked off the stairs and landed on the first catwalk level of the building. He ran. His hot tears blinded him, but he ran.
He could hear the creatures fast approaching and could see some of the robots leaping up the catwalk themselves. As he ran, he began to input commands into the side panel of the plasma rifle as quickly as he could.
He ducked as the claws of one of the robots narrowly missed his head. He glanced up and saw the distorted face once more. The thing that was once Allan was climbing along the top of the catwalk on all fours and would not miss a second swing. Then he saw what he was waiting for; the gap in the floor. As the creature's claws lanced forward and as the creatures behind him closed in for the kill, he dropped into a slide narrowly avoiding certain death.
He fell through the floor and landed in a crouch. He fought back his heart as he heard the insistent beeping of his plasma rifle still perched on the catwalk above before the overload explosion rocked the catwalk and half of the building above his head. He was blown quickly into the air and tossed clear across the courtyard like a child's toy landing hard on his side. He rolled over the rubble, still dizzy from the explosion.
Three of the catwalks on the building had collapsed from the force of the explosion and a decent hole marked his triumph. His breath still came quickly in gasps and fits but as the dust began to settle he could feel his heart swell.
"Allan," he tried to say but only a rasping gasp came out.
A slight noise made his ears prick up and his heart sink back down into the depths of despair. The rubble began to move and the shadows of the arena once more started to swell in anger and frustration.
The man braced himself and clenched his fists tightly. It just couldn't have been that easy could it? With superhuman speed, the courtyard erupted in a frenzy of black shapes that raced across the divide now intent more than ever of claiming their victory.
He jumped up into the air, his body hung for a brief second before the twist of his hips caused him to narrowly avoid the first robot. Bringing his legs up close to his body he kicked off of the robot and sailed through the small divide between two of the killer machines still in mid pounce. He rolled forward and soon found himself surrounded on all sides by a sea of black shapes, sharp talons and intent, red eyes filled with nothing but cold, quick death. He couldn't see the familiar warped face of the man anywhere in the crowd.
Again they came in unison and the came quickly. Their shimmering bodies reflecting the first gleams of moonlight as they moved and danced forward.
Then...
They stopped.
He paused, staring at the strange creatures as each one stretched its short neck and torso skyward.
Then heard it. The sound of engines. His heart soared for one brief moment before the blue aura and exhaust air spilled into the area. He could see the ship clearly now. He peered at the insignia on the side of the vessel and knew nothing. Strobe lights played into the courtyard and in the distance he could hear the sound of explosions. Suddenly the side door of the craft slid open with a metallic shlink and many large humanoid robots began spilling out.
The raven haired man's neck bristled with panic even before the robots began to fire high impact rounds into the ruins and through the dark robots below. The ground itself shook with the force of their artillery as the skies rained death. Some of the robots danced in a sensuous macabre fashion as they were caught in the fire and reduced to rubble and sparking scraps while others slid back into the shadows.
Quickly, the man bolted for the side stairs and vaulted them in a heartbeat. All around him, death continued to rain from the sky. And he didn't want to find out if it was picky. His black and red assailants were no longer interested in their prey; they had their own problems it seemed.
When he reached the top of the stairs he jumped up and grabbed the ledge above. With all of his strength he kicked off the ledge and arched his spine upwards until his feet touched the ledge above before his hands released and his body righted itself. Within seconds he had climbed over halfway up the far side of the building, jumping and climbing from catwalk to half destroyed catwalk with ease. Soon he reached the top of the structure but...something was wrong. He could feel it before his mind could tell him directly.
He couldn't hear the sounds of gunfire anymore only the sounds of the ships interstellar engines and something.... something else. For a brief moment he could feel a warm breeze tussle his hair. He turned slowly away from the expanse of ruined and smoking buildings that lay in the distance to see one of the robots hovering mere feet from him. Within the white helmet he could see what he thought was a man inside. He had blond hair and a strong jaw.
The dark haired man took a step back and hesitated. "No," he felt hot tears line his dusty face, "It can't be you..." It was that very second that cost him a great deal as the robot-suit raised up a sleek cannon and fired without hesitation. Something hit him square in the chest and pushed him backwards over the side of the building. His dark hair danced above his face as the wind gripped him, not with a warm caress but with knife-cold terror. He could feel a weightlessness in the pit of his stomach.
Then everything went black
Author's note:
Hey guys, I'm not sure about this story so far (i.e. not sure if I'll continue it). Never thought I'd be writing a Sci/Fi story haha. Drop me a line if you're bored or have any ideas = corporeal09@yahoo.com.
-Gene