Ceaseless by S. A. Lusher Page A

hesitated. There was something wrong. At first, he couldn't tell what it was, only that it was making him nervous.
    Then he realized.
    He could hear absolutely nothing.
    No voices, no movement, no signs of life. For a split second, terror gripped him, sure that somehow, someway the killer had survived. Then he had relaxed. Everyone was probably just either hiding or had evacuated. That was fine. He could deal with that.
    “Come on,” he said, leading them into the backyard of one of the houses.
    Colonization had become so popular and routine that most colonies that sprang up, almost always around some kind of resource buried in the ground or some opportunity for regular business in a new area, that prefabricated structures were mass produced by several corporations to be bought so that colonies could be set up practically overnight. This particular grouping seemed to be very cheap and small. Allan doubted it more than two hundred people lived here. He moved between two of the housing units and came to the road beyond.
    He began walking along the road. The others followed silently behind him. They followed the road to a larger, more traveled thoroughfare and began following it.
    “Where is everyone?” Johnson whispered.
    “Probably evaced because of the meltdown,” Allan replied, but uncertainty had crept into his voice. Where else could they be, anyway?
    As they approached what must have been the 'town square' of the colony, Allan stopped. He found it difficult to fully comprehend what he was seeing. There was a small impact crater in the middle of the open area in the center of town, around which several business had been centered. Around the impact site, there were close to two dozen bodies, perhaps more. They were all dead. Necks crushed or chests punched in.
    Nobody spoke for a long time.
    “He must have landed here,” Lucy finally said, breaking the immense silence that engulfed the three of them.
    “And then killed anyone nearby,” Allan whispered.
    “Do you hear that?” Johnson asked softly.
    At first, he didn't. Then, he could hear it. An engine. Without a word, the trio turned and hurried off towards the sound of it. They found the killer standing over the popped hood of a civilian model jeep. He slammed the hood down and began heading for the driver's seat.
    “Now he gets in a fucking jeep,” Allan whispered.
    “We're not going to try and attack him, are we?” Lucy asked.
    “I...” Allan hesitated. For once, the sheer indestructibility of the killer seemed to weigh down on him. What could they hope to do?
    As he was contemplating this, the killer paused, one hand on the frame of the vehicle that he could probably barely only fit into. He stood frozen like that for a second, then stepped away from the vehicle and turned around.
    “Oh shit, I think he noticed us,” Johnson whispered in abject fear.
    But he wasn't looking towards them...at least, Allan thought he wasn't. Abruptly, something sailed out from somewhere amidst the several buildings around and hit the killer. There was a brief burst of sparks. Allan felt his chest swell with hope as the killer seemed to stagger briefly. Then another one shot out, and a third, a fourth. Soon, over a dozen of the things had penetrated the killer's armor, blue sparks dancing along the black metal.
    Abruptly, the killer toppled over.
    Dark shapes, what Allan recognized as men, soldiers likely, emerged from the buildings and alleyways surrounding the small square of open space the killer had been occupying. Allan was in the midst of considering how to react to this when he felt raw, furious pain explode across his back. At the same time he heard Lucy and Johnson cry out.
    As he collapsed onto his side, he heard a single sentence.
    “Take them to Obsidian Station.”

    Chapter 08
    – Obsidian Station –
     
     
    Allan's eyes snapped open.
    He found himself staring up at a blank silver ceiling of dull metal. For a long moment, he didn't move, as he was