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Awakening

Page 79

by Hayden Pearton


  *

  After a few hours of monotonous walking, the strange duo entered a new area, one filled with concentric pits of sand that fell between upraised slabs of rock. Scrambling up the nearest slab, Kingston surveyed the landscape. Taking a small stone from the ground, he threw it into the pit, whistling softly as it disappeared from view.

  “Dry quicksand, that is troublesome…” Turning to Maloch, he asked, ”What do you suggest?”

  “From my sedimentary analysis, it appears that the pits have only formed between the rock outcrops. I suggest we move between the slabs, avoiding contact with the ground.”

  Kingston laughed, recalling a time when he had played a similar game, with the floor consisting of ‘lava’, and only the furniture being ‘safe’. He had thought at the time that the game was illogical and unrealistic, but had participated anyway. Now he was glad he had done so, although he had never imagined that he would ever find himself in a situation meriting the use of such childish skills.

  It was a strange sight to see, human and machine leaping from boulder to boulder, all while avoiding the seemingly harmless sand. As he leapt from stone to stone, Kingston began to forget himself, losing himself in age-old memories. Eventually, his care-free disposition would get the better of him, as he landed too heavily on his latest island of safety. It wobbled on its axis, threatening to throw him into the deadly pit. Arms outstretched, he flailed for anything that would help him regain balance.

  A sudden pain in his abdomen made him flinch, which turned out to be the worst thing he could have done. With no time to call out, he fell forward, the yawning pit waiting eagerly for his imminent arrival. He hit the ground hard, the air from his lungs escaping into the heated air. Almost immediately, he began to sink, struggling against his gruesome fate. Within seconds, the sand had climbed up to his torso, his legs going numb from the overwhelming pressure. Panicking, he tried to call out to his only hope of survival, Maloch. But it was too late, for the instant he opened his mouth, he began to suffocate from the sudden influx of rough soil.

  Fear began to overtake his mind, causing rational thought to flee. His entire head was now completely engulfed, his eyes burning, mouth choking, ear canals filled. He began to feel light-headed, the irreplaceable oxygen failing to reach him through the shifting sands. Unwanted thoughts and words filled appeared and disappeared, with no beginning or end. Images of his past flashed past, dredging up the things that he had long since buried deep in his subconscious. An ornate coffin, wreathed in roses; a blood splattered vest, drying in the breeze; cold rain, washing away the life-liquid from the battlefield. All these and more, tormenting him in his final moments.

  A light began to fill his mind, bringing warmth and serenity. “So this is it, the bright light at the end of the tunnel. Funny, I always used to laugh when people would say that”.

  He thought of the people he was about to meet: lovers, soldiers-in-arms, parents and… her.

  The light grew brighter, and a peculiar sensation stole over him. He felt his body begin to float upwards, as if drawn towards the light, like a moth to an open flame. He opened his eyes, curious as to what he would see. However, what he did see what far stranger than anything he could have imagined: a pair of large, amber, eyes inches away from his face.

  “Recovery complete. Analysing life signature. Pulse... heightened. Heartbeat... accelerated. Presence of euphoric hormones... saturated. Initializing patient awareness test... Excuse me human, how do you feel?”

  Kingston’s brain rapidly tried to change gear, from near-death to confused life. He stood there, eyes blinking rapidly in the suddenly sand-free environment. He began to stutter, trying to get his mouth to form words and sentences that would convey his feelings of surprise and gratitude.

  Eventually, he managed to get out, “I’m- I’m al- I’m alri-” Taking a deep breath, he tried again, “I’m alright Maloch. Thank you for saving me.” In the privacy of his own mind, he cursed his foolishness.

  “Was I really going to accept death so easily? Honestly! What would I say to Her when she found out how pathetic my death had been? And how would she act knowing that I had broken my promise, that I had failed her…”

  Maloch, unaware of this train of thought, continued his standardized medical assessment. “Awareness, marginal. Initiating patient awareness test two. Pardon my interruption human, but do you feel any pain?”

  Surprisingly, Kingston did not. He reasoned that his sudden rescue had forced any feelings of pain into the far reaches of his mind. His head and abdomen had gone numb however, and his arms shook slightly. “No, I’m not in any pain.”

  “Pain level, minimal. Analysing patient structure... analysis complete. Minor internal abdominal bleeding detected. Threat level... minimal. Caution, potentially fatal if not treated within… Error… hours. Initiating patient awareness test three... Salutations human, are you able to mobilize? If not, please remain stationary as I acquire a suitable method of transportation.”

  Kingston stretched out his legs, trying to limber up his rusted joints before they continued on. After a failed attempt at reaching his toes, he quickly said, “Yes, yes I’m good to go. A little internal bleeding never stopped anybody...”

  Extending his pocketed solar staff, he used it to carefully lever himself over to the next segment of rock. From then on, he would check the stability of the next ‘island’ in the line, before vaulting over. Slowly, they made their way to the far side of the area, where more stable ground existed.

  After finally making it to the last slab of rock, Kingston took a moment to catch his breath, looking back to the place that had very nearly been his grave site. Maloch, moving with a perfect, mechanical movement, landed beside him. The pain in his abdomen had flared with every jump, but he pushed the sensation to the back of his mind. He could not afford to stop, not when Barsch could be in danger.

  Moving onwards, they fell into a slow yet sustainable pace. Gradually they made their way across the hazardous ground, but with every step the darkness in Kingston’s vision grew. Between the internal bleeding and the exhaustion, he was finding it harder and harder to keep his eyes open.

  Only an inhuman amount of stubbornness and determination kept him going. But a strong spirit is not a sustainable substitute for proper rest and appropriate medical care. This was proven when Kingston fell to his knees a few minutes after leaving the quicksand. His breathing was ragged in his throat, and the darkness had all but covered his vision.

  In that moment, when he believed that he could finally slow down and rest, the roar came.

  It reverberated through the air, shaking his bones and bringing a primal fear to his forethoughts. The roar, already a fearsome sound on its own, was then joined by more. Five, ten, fifty, they kept coming, adding to the cacophony of chaos. The sound crashed over him in waves, driving his exhausted body closer to the ground. Acting without thought, he placed his hands over his neck, protecting it from attack. It was an ancient reaction, buried in his genes by ancestors who had learnt to fear what crept in the darkness. Humanity had managed to cover the globe, erect magnificent cities and conquer the skies, but out in the wild they once more became prey to be hunted.

  “Maloch, can you detect the location of the pack from their vocal signature?” Kingston asked, getting to his feet. Although he was in pain and fatigued far beyond his limits, he simply could not afford to rest. If he did, it would be the longest sleep he would ever have.

  “Negative. The echo generated by the local geography makes acoustic triangulation impossible. I recommend that we move to a more secure location and attempt to hide from them.”

  “Okay. Please, lead the way. Maybe they will lose our trail and give up?” Kingston asked, the feeble hope sounding worthless even as he said it.

  “Affirmative. Please follow me.”

  Kingston did so with the quickest pace he could muster. If they were lucky, perhaps the pack would leave them alone, and they could avoid any bloodshed�

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