Fan Fiction ❯ Dark ❯ the front ( Chapter 2 )

Sand crunched beneath her boots, and Dark walked on. The atmosphere hummed alive in her veins. She felt the corner of her mouth twist into grin. She couldn't help it. Some things just felt good.

Just within the borders of the settlement, she came to a stop. The spider-like walker halted with her, spinning its eye to take in the surroundings. Wind picked up dust and debris, clouding the air and cutting down on visibility for the team of scientists camped out miles behind her, watching everything through the eye of the walker.

She had left the buggy as soon as she had hit the broken concrete. The walker managed the rubble fine, and now it was just the two of them, surrounded by the remains of a city. Piles of stone and twisted metal covered the landscape.

Dark rubbed her forehead above the goggles. With her other hand, she called up the atmospheric readings through her headset. They flickered alive in her left field of vision. The numbers were high. She had entered the hot zone, as the scientists called it. That explained the buzz she had going.

She cleared the view so she could see. The dust fog made it difficult. She knew her coat would have to get deep cleaned after this trip.

"Dark?" called a voice in her ear. That was Edinger. "What are you seeing? We're not getting a clear picture."

"Tore up buildings," she answered bluntly. Sometimes they asked stupid questions. She scanned the area around her again. "Boom, boom, everything blew up. Nothing left to see." Like any other place hit by the Front.

"Okay, Dark," Edinger's voice crackled. The air was almost too thick for their instruments. "Take a look around."

They loved giving orders.

They sent her in because no one else could go. The atmosphere at ground zero killed anyone else and screwed up most of the machines. The walker and Dark's headset would probably yield a small percentage of useful information. They had argued about that back at the lab, whether it was worth it to send her in anymore, or if they should rely on the machines. They told her they needed her to do it because no one else could. But she knew better. She was herself an experiment. No one knew how she was able to survive the conditions at ground zero. They sent her in so the monitor could measure her body's responses.

That was probably the most worthwhile information to be gathered from this dangerous little trip. There was nothing left to do for Inca. The settlement was demolished. They had already known there would be no survivors. Once the Front reached a critical peak, the resulting storm leveled entire cities, wiped out whole settlements, like a nuclear holocaust. They speculated that people were vaporized at impact.

There had been no warning this time. The Front was becoming increasingly unpredictable as the storm season went on. It followed a jagged path that shifted with each critical peak. There had been no time to evacuate Inca.

Dark climbed over mounds of rubble, steering away from sharp edges. The walker went with her. It took them a while before they set foot on a space of even ground, the fragments of buildings towering above them on either side.

Something moved in her peripheral vision. Dark turned.

In the distance, a human figure rose, staggering, phantomlike. She blinked. A survivor?

But then it vanished.

Dark shook her head hard and stared. It was gone. Had she imagined it?

She opened her mouth to say something to the doctor -- did they see that? -- but stopped when she heard the sound of crunching gravel. She froze, heart pounding. Something moved. Then the walker suddenly bleeped out a warning, and she spun away as the concrete slab beside her head exploded with the force of the heavy grey body that slammed into it. She bolted, put as much distance between herself and the thing as possible.

The doctor's voice was in her ear again, shouting, "Dark! We're reading a --"

I know! she thought. Demon.

She looked behind her. A hulking, armored mass on thick legs, fast for its size, lunged for her. Dark turned around, running, side-stepping, and felt it rush by her as it barreled into the empty space where she had been standing. She went for the bulky gun strapped to her back. Backpedaling, she held it up, lined up a shot, and pulled the trigger. The force of the discharge shot through her arms, jerking the barrel upward, and the gold beam disappeared into a blank sky.

NT-7, she reminded herself just then, not the -4. They'd switched it on her because the -7 had more stopping power. It also had massive recoil.

The demon came at her, screaming like grinding metal. She adjusted her grip and fired another shot into its gaping jaws. Its body pulled up, and it fell.

She stood still, and tried to catch her breath.

It twitched.

She squeezed the trigger on reflex. Its body convulsed under the impact of the beam, then stopped.

Her pulse pounded in her ears. She waited just long enough to make sure it was dead. She looked around. Everything was quiet except for the distant howl of wind. The walker was struggling to rise on six of its eight legs, the other two trampled by the demon's rampage.

"Dark! Are you all right?"

"Fine," she muttered, lowering her weapon.

"Okay, Dark. It's dangerous out there. Come back now."

Hunh. She didn't answer. Hadn't they known that before? Wherever the Front went, demons appeared. They knew this.

They just didn't know how.

"Don't worry about collecting the specimen," the doctor was telling her. "Unless you think the walker can carry it?"

She watched the machine amble toward her. "No."

"Then head back now."

Gun on her back, she climbed the rubble again. The walker had trouble now, maneuvering. She turned and lifted it into her arms like a wounded dog. It was heavy, but she managed.

Near the edge of the settlement, it bleeped again, sounding alarmed. Hunched over with its weight, she looked up. Through the dust in the air, she could make out four large, oddly shaped masses. They stood on four legs each, colored grey-black. They had no eyes. They were not far away.

She had about a second to think -- drop the machine, go for the gun -- but that second was up. The closest one shot forward, was within arms' reach. She ducked instinctively, arms still clutching the walker, and something inside her mind screamed.

It happened then -- the invisible muscle inside her head flexed. As it did, it pulled on the air around her, spun its invisible propellers to stir up a wind storm.

Dust stung her face. Hair fluttered into her eyes. She felt her entire body clench tight all at once. The doctor was yelling about something, but she wasn't hearing it. What mattered was the cyclone in her mind, what was now the cyclone whirling around her.

The demons settled against the ground, claws digging in deep to hold them in place. She needed something more.

She felt again the atmosphere in her veins, drawing energy through her extremities to the tight knot in the center of her forehead. She focused it there until it burned. Electricity crackled in the air. The muscle in her head tightened. Her vision went from fuzzy to black.

Then she screamed. The muscle released. The air burned with four bolts of lightning.

She collapsed to her knees, head feeling fuzzy. Her fingers buzzed. The air stilled, and the tension was gone.

She stayed like that for a full minute, her body slowly returning to itself. Her muscles started to ache, and her vision cleared. She looked up, realized that the doctor was shouting in her ear, that the air smelled of something burning. Four smoldering lumps lay in front of her.

"Dark!"

"Yeah," she said. Her voice sounded hollow; her throat was dry.

Silence. And then, "Can you make it back?"

What would you do if I couldn't? she thought. "Yeah."

Dark staggered to her feet. The walker bleeped, still clutched tightly to her chest. She looked up and saw the buggy, thrown over by the cyclone.

Tiny grains of sand bit into her face as the air stirred again. Her load was heavier than it was before. But the machine felt warm against her cold body. It was going to be a long walk.

Head bowed, Dark marched on.