There were no more spaces to explore. We had gone through each one, the teeth of a fine comb. The little beasts were mostly absent, but whenever one of us gave a cry of discovery the nausea hit. They were unnatural. Bits of flesh hanging off them as if they had gone through a food processor. When I first saw one I thought it had been injured, but Dodd showed me a video of one being born. They get torn up inside their mother's womb and heal that way. Fucking disgusting things.
We cleaned out and moved on. My respirator stuck with sweat to my chin in the desert. The sun burned like magnesium. My grandpa said the sun used to be yellow. It made people look happier, full of life. Our white sun makes us look like statues, frozen to the round like a deer facing the headlights of a car.
Karl dragged his boots through the sand. I told him how irritating it is to hear them scrape every single time he moves. Karl doesn't give a shit about anyone. I should have known better.
Merle raised his fist and our group halted. He's heard something. We all raised our rifles and stood back to back, the five of us, facing the klicks of sand. I haven't heard anything but the wind, but I did not speak this aloud. A minute went by and Merle lowered his weapon.
"Move out."
A beast burst out of the sand in front of Merle. Grains peppered my mask. Its pincers arced past the sun and closed like a vice around Merle's head. We pumped rounds into its soft body until it slumped like a wet noodle in the sand. Merle's body was belly down, his vacant neck steadily pumping blood into the sand. We left his body where it lay. We couldn't risk any more lives by having one of us carrying a body over his shoulder. None of us liked Merle much, either. Parry was the only one who came near Merle, to rip the captain's patch off Merle's shoulder and jam it in the band around his helmet.
"Rowan, Mitch, dig us a hole." Parry spoke to me and Mitch. I took my vice from my pack and wrapped it around the dead beast. Mitch jammed his shovel between the beats and the sand and together we tore its pulpy body from its nest.
Parry shined a flashlight into the hole. It was deeper than most. A lot of sub chambers, no doubt.
"More spaces," he said.
We cleaned out and moved on. My respirator stuck with sweat to my chin in the desert. The sun burned like magnesium. My grandpa said the sun used to be yellow. It made people look happier, full of life. Our white sun makes us look like statues, frozen to the round like a deer facing the headlights of a car.
Karl dragged his boots through the sand. I told him how irritating it is to hear them scrape every single time he moves. Karl doesn't give a shit about anyone. I should have known better.
Merle raised his fist and our group halted. He's heard something. We all raised our rifles and stood back to back, the five of us, facing the klicks of sand. I haven't heard anything but the wind, but I did not speak this aloud. A minute went by and Merle lowered his weapon.
"Move out."
A beast burst out of the sand in front of Merle. Grains peppered my mask. Its pincers arced past the sun and closed like a vice around Merle's head. We pumped rounds into its soft body until it slumped like a wet noodle in the sand. Merle's body was belly down, his vacant neck steadily pumping blood into the sand. We left his body where it lay. We couldn't risk any more lives by having one of us carrying a body over his shoulder. None of us liked Merle much, either. Parry was the only one who came near Merle, to rip the captain's patch off Merle's shoulder and jam it in the band around his helmet.
"Rowan, Mitch, dig us a hole." Parry spoke to me and Mitch. I took my vice from my pack and wrapped it around the dead beast. Mitch jammed his shovel between the beats and the sand and together we tore its pulpy body from its nest.
Parry shined a flashlight into the hole. It was deeper than most. A lot of sub chambers, no doubt.
"More spaces," he said.
