The pale man coughed and fanned the air in front of him as he strode out of the cloud of dust wholly unharmed. He’d sigh heavily and prop his fists up on his hips, saying curtly, “Well shit.” He looked around, peering into the cloud for his guards. They were stunned, but equally undamaged. “Come on, up and at them!” the pale man would say. “Don’t let them get away. I’ll be damned if Tzalmavet chose wisely this time. After them!”

  Staggering to their feet, the guards made to execute his order without word or complaint. He wasn’t sure how he felt about them, ‘the perfect soldiers’ Xu called them – their creator, a bastard and a madman in his opinion – but it was hard to argue with results. They never argued, they never fought amongst themselves, they hardly ate or drank and were as tough as nails. Still, he wished they were a bit more talkative. These away missions were always so boring with no one to talk to.

  Just then his pocket began vibrating. For a moment he just let it, staring up at the dawning sky with reluctance in his heart. He already knew who it was, the one someone he didn’t want to talk to. And now? Now he had to explain the situation. The pale man dug in his pocket and pulled out his communicator. It flipped open and he pressed it against his ear, saying firstly, “Moshi moshi.”

  “Status update,” a firm voice said.

  “What, no hi, hello, how are you?” the pale man asked with mock hurt. “Hello to you too Avon.”

  “Cut the shit, Bohu,” the other demanded. “Why haven’t you radioed in yet?”

  “Nothing to radio about,” Bohu would answer with an unseen shrug to emphasize. “Still in pursuit of Tzalmavet’s latest goon.”

  “In pursuit, as in they’re alive and running?” Avon pressed with irritation clear in his voice. “The gallu failed, you mean.”

  Bohu sucked on his teeth before replying, saying as if it were no big deal, “What can I say, they woke up, ran for the hills. They won’t get far on foot.”

  “They better not, for all our sake,” said Avon darkly.

  “I know – I know, you don’t have to remind me,” Bohu replied. “We’ll have her back in stasis in no time at all. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it.”

  “Just find them, and kill the agent,” growled Avon before hanging up. The pale man snapped the device closed and refit it into his pocket. He slid his hands down his face and groaned out his annoyance before saying with a sigh, “Fucking Tzalmavet… Every goddamned week. Okay… okay…” he said, scratching at his beardless chin as if it would solve all life’s problems. “Just got to catch up and put them to the sword – no biggie.” Bohu let out a loud whistle, summoning his hovercraft to his side. He leapt up onto the bed and slapped the roof to let the driver know he was ready. “Fucking Tzalmavet… Let’s go!”

  --

  Piety ran like her life depended on it, which it very much did. Dragging Sophia in tow, all she could think of was escape – to get as far as humanly possible from the imminent death that no doubt pursued her and her companion. Somehow, she doubted Reverence’s suicide bomb was the last she’d see of the strange alien figure or his guards. Be they dead or alive, she had to get back to home base. Then they could hop in their caravan and leave the wretched place in the dust.

  Sophia struggled to keep up, but Piety didn’t let her faulter, pulling her along in jerks and tugs. Sophia heaved in exhaustion, barely able to drag her feet as she struggled to keep pace. They weren’t going to make it, not before their pursuers caught up with them. Piety looked around for some place to hide, but there was only the ship’s hull on one side, and glassed earth on the other. Piety cursed and spun on her heels. “Rev, we’re not going to make it to basecamp. Can you reach us here?” Piety called into her radio.

  “Already on my way,” Reverence replied. “Ten minutes out.”

  “We don’t have ten minutes!” Exclaimed Piety.

  “You’re just going to have to stall them,” Rev told her solemnly. “Ten minutes.”

  Piety spat out another string of curses and made to pull Sophia along again, but she’d only fall to her knees struggling to catch her breath. She groaned painfully and glanced back at bloodied footprints; her bare feet torn to ribbons by the glass.

  “Fuck…” uttered Piety, wiping sweat from her brow as she stared down at her exhausted companion. A soft drone drew her attention up, back the way they came.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Two gold and white hovercrafts were heading their way, kicking up clouds of dust as they levitated above the cracked glass earth. Ten minutes, that’s all she needed to keep them at bay for, and then the cavalry would arrive. Ten minutes. She could do that. She had been in dicier situations before. She was at her best when pressed up against the wall. At least, that was what she told herself.

  The hovercraft split up once they reached her, with each going to either side, blocking their escape route. The pale man was sitting at the edge of the bed of one craft, looking as healthy as could be despite the drone’s direct impact. Once the vehicle stopped, he hopped off with a clap of his hands, saying while pointing at her with both index fingers. “Hi – I think you and I got off on the wrong foot. Yeah? Yeah.”

  “If that’s what you call trying to murder us,” Piety spat, trying to keep Sophia behind her. The mans mechanized guard leapt from their vehicles and made to surround them. There would be no escape this time. They trained their rifles on her. Ten minutes, Piety reminded herself, gritting her teeth.

  “I do – a real bad foot,” the man said with a shrug. “Now, I still have to kill you – but where I went wrong, was I didn’t tell you why. Not fair to you. Life’s not fair, yada yada… But me? I try to be.”

  “Oh yeah? Do tell,” Piety said, pulling out her knife. She quickly took aim and threw it at him, thinking that if she were going to die, might as well take him with her. It struck true but bounced off like he was a brick wall. The man would stare down at the knife for a second and shake his head, saying as he did, “You’re so far out of your depth it’s sad. But that’s the ones he goes for, the dumb and desperate.”

  “I don’t know who you’re talking about,” Piety claimed truthfully.

  Bohu stared at her with an obsidian glare, eying her up and down. “I believe you,” he said flatly, “I really do. You’ve found yourself in quite the pickle, I’m afraid. You see that thing you’re so desperately trying to save, isn’t human – at least not anymore. It’s an immortal being called an egregor – a gestalt of souls. We’ve been keeping it in an infant state for the safety of humanity. You’ve put that safety at risk by just being near it. Unfortunately, you’re one of the lucky ones – resistant to mutation. You’re more human than not, and that makes you susceptible to influence – to infection.”

  “Infection? What do you mean?” Piety asked, glancing back at Sophia behind her.

  “Yeah – infection. Tell me…” Bohu said with a wag of his finger. “Have you had any weird visions, waken dreams? She gets in your head, literally. She infects your human soul like a parasite, forever tying it to her. So, when you die, you become part of the whole. Once infected, all she has to do is die, and you become the new host. It’s a bit early for that, however, so there’s still time to negate the effects. Hence, your timely demise.”

  “Sounds like a whole lot of shit to me,” Piety exclaimed, balling her fists.

  “I bet it does!” Bohu said with a laugh. He propped his fists up on his hips and sighed. “Well, I feel better about this. What about you?”

  “Fuck you,” Piety hissed. “I’m not going to sit here and just let you murder us for your bullshit greater good!”

  “Well, that’s your prerogative,” said the pale man with a hapless shrug. “If you want to go down fighting, that’s fair.” He clapped his hands together as if he thought up a brilliant idea. “I tell you what… Me and you, mano a mano. You get to die a hero. Sound fun?”

  “You… want to fight me?” Piety asked in disbelief.

  “Yeah, why not? You’ve got the spirit in you,” Bohu said carelessly. “You win, and I’ll even let you go – the both of you. Has to be better than death by firing squad, right?”

  That was true enough. Piety didn’t want to die like a dog in the streets. Ten minutes she reminded herself. How long had it already been? If she could hold out against him for however long, with Reverence they could make their escape. “Fine,” Piety announced. “I’ll do it… But how do I know you’ll keep your word?”

  “You don’t,” the pale man said flatly before adding with a smile, “but the chance is worth it, right?” He turned to one of his guards and gestured, saying, “You, throw her something that can actually cut me.”

  The guard pulled free a knife from his belt and tossed it to her. Piety quickly picked it up and brandished it. It wasn’t just any old knife, she soon realized by the red-hot glow of its edge, but some kind of plasma cutter. It was a bit overkill, she thought, probably able to cut through steel, but she wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

  The pale man stepped forward unarmed, taking on a wrestler’s stance. He smirked and then said, “Ready when you are.” Piety lunged at him with the knife, swiping it horizontally, aiming for his throat. He ducked below and hit her in the chest with an open palm. Piety felt herself being thrown back and down into the glassed dirt. The man was strong, very strong. She groaned painfully as she stood up, pretty sure some of her ribs were broken. She staggered to her feet and spit up a glob of blood. “That’s it,” Bohu encouraged. “Ignore the pain – your life is on the line!”

  “Shut up!” Piety yelled, throwing herself forward again with a flurry of slashes. He dodged left, down, back, and then struck her again, this time across her left shoulder, dislocating it. Piety rolled back with a scream stuck in her throat. She grit her teeth, barring it. Piety wasn’t about to let him see her squirm. Piety swayed back and forth, feeling her consciousness fade in and out with the pulsating pain. Shit, she thought, she hadn’t lasted a minute, much less ten.

  The pale man strode towards her. He looked disappointed, or maybe he just pitied her. Without a word he reached out and cupped her head between his hands. He was going to break her neck. Piety took the chance and stuck the knife deep into his shoulder. He didn’t even flinch. She pulled it out and stabbed him again, over and over until her hand was covered in blood black as tar. He didn’t so much as wince. “You tried your best,” Bohu said pityingly. “No one could ask more of you. You stood your ground and fought to the bitter end. And that’s it, here we are, the end.” Piety spit blood in his face. Bohu huffed, sighed, and snapped her neck.