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When Haiden finally awoke amid the desiccated leaves of the ancient
forest, the sun had crested the distant hills and bathed him in an
orange glow. The night’s rain was a mere dampness on the trees and
ground, and the soft light of morning made jewels of the water droplets
clinging to the aquamarine leaves.
Warmth! He welcomed it with enormous relief; the rain-soaked bedding of the forest floor had done nothing to preserve his body temperature. He knew if he was going to survive much longer, he needed a better solution for the wet Areman nights. Getting to his feet and facing new morning sun, he stretched his arms wide against the light. Eventually the bleariness of recent slumber gave way to a more detailed awareness of his immediate situation. His flight from the previous night had taken him close to the eastern edge of the forest; the trees were sparse here, allowing the sunlight to cover him fully. He was also hungry.
Looking around, he spied his sack lying only a meter or so from him. Reaching into the neck opening, he took one of the food bulbs and squeezed the thick paste into his mouth, barely chewing before swallowing greedily. When the bulb was empty, he simply tossed it aside. Eventually he was going to have to take his chances with some of the wild mushrooms and berries he could see growing amongst the ferns and grasses.
A small spring gurgled amongst the roots of a few large trees, and he took his time filling his belly with the cold liquid. He didn’t have anything to carry water in—the food bulb squeeze-tubes were too small to be of any use, and he needed the food—so this was going to have to last him a while. He splashed his face and noticed the dirt and dried blood rinsing off into the stream; the cuts and scrapes on his cheeks and neck stung as the water slid across his skin. Even his hands were raw from last night’s flight through the woods, and his feet and legs were woefully sore from his recent exertions.
He tied his formsuit pack tightly and headed northwest. To the south he could see the expanse of the city, Mission, and he could barely make out the thin line of a gravrail leading east-west. The forest must taper to a point further north, giving it a kind of teardrop shape. He had seen the light of outbuildings in the distance last night to the north. He decided he would continue to travel in that direction under the assumption that it would take him to one of those buildings—perhaps an abandoned construction outpost or empty encampment—where he could rest and gather strength without having to brave the elements for a night . Haiden stayed well away from the forest’s edge, preferring to travel under the cover of the gnarled trees that had seemed so sinister in the darkness of the previous night.
After only a few hours the woods thinned and the landscape dipped into a large bowl valley several kilometers across. He could see a small river about a kilometer away meandering its way southwest in the valley, filling the bottom of the valley with a small lake. Haiden headed for a section of the river close to the northern end of the lake, hoping to find crossing there.
A decidedly mechanical sound, like the purr of a small motor, froze Haiden; it was definitely not the organic sound of something that belonged in the woods. The noise had echoed so it was difficult to pinpoint its direction. He slowly turned his head, trying to avoid making movement. Had he been seen?
The motor disengaged and fell silent. Heavy boots dropped into the dry foliage and moss. There—he located the source of the sound. To the north, about fifty meters behind the large trunk of a Margden tree. He quickly ducked behind a nearby fir to obscure himself from view. Through the lower boughs of emerald needles he could make out the shiny hull of some sort of small vehicle. After a moment he heard the staccato impact of a mallet on metal.
He hadn’t been seen. Thankful of his good fortune, Haiden started moving carefully back the way he had come, seeking to backtrack and go around the edge of the valley.
Crack!
A large branch hidden in the moss snapped underfoot, echoing through the woods and across the valley. The pounding stopped, and Haiden froze once again, looking over to the large tree that obscured the view of the vehicle and its rider.
Haiden could hear the shuffling of feet; whoever it was had decided to get up to investigate. He needed to make a decision fast.
A few meters in front of him, the stump of a fallen tree was being supported by a huge boulder. He dove for the impromptu cover and managed to catch a glimpse of a humanoid figure appear from behind a tree before he dipped below view. He landed in the mossy undergrowth with a thud on his left side, sending knives of pain searing through his separated shoulder. The intensity of the pain caused an instant wave of nausea, and he began flirting with consciousness. He managed to focus his mind until the pain eventually subsided to a bearable level, and he squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to rid them of the tears that blurred his vision.
The figure had seen him; there was no doubt of that. Haiden listened carefully, his face pressed into the mud and grass near the foot of the boulder. He could look under the fallen tree stump, and as he did so he saw the feet of the inquisitive android approaching.
“Please show yourself!” the voice called. “I’m Watch Leader Amon of Third Patrol, Mission. Do you require aid?”
He was trying to decide if he should answer, or continue to lie in the mud hole and say nothing. Either way, this sentry had seen him, and he was going to have to deal with him eventually. Haiden’s mind rushed to think of a plausible excuse; this security guard would be wondering why he was out of the bounds of the city. It wasn’t normal, especially for non-security, non-military androids like himself.
Max Haiden stood up, but only after carefully secreting his supplies in the hole.
“Thank goodness,” he started, deciding on a variation of the truth, “I was stuck in a gravrail transport during a power failure and decided to jump down. The next thing I know I’m in these woods. I…I must have wandered off while I was half-stunned.”
The security sentry had reached for his charge pistol with initial surprise; now he looked Haiden over, taking in the tattered formsuit and the swollen and crusted gash on his forehead. The guard may have thought Haiden was a designate looking to test him, but the injured android’s beleaguered appearance lent credence to the story.
“You must be exhausted. I’ve got supplies back that way,” turning as he pointed towards the large tree. He never saw the two-fisted blow that hammered into his right temple. The pistol fell to the ground, out of reach. Haiden couldn’t hold back a sudden pain-induced scream, again suffering from the effects of the damage done to his shoulder.
The Watch Leader crumpled to the ground, stunned by the sudden force of the blow. Haiden pounced on top of him, pinning the androids arms with his knees. Amon began struggling fiercely and managed to free one of his arms. He pushed and clawed at his assailant’s face, struggling to dislodge him. Clutching fingers tore across the scab of Haiden’s wound; fresh hot fluid splattered over the two combatants as blood dripped from the reopened wound.
It was as if a single-mindedness tainted with fury had overcome Haiden. Survive! He wrapped his hands around the man’s throat, flexing every muscle as he strove to kill. He ignored the blood across his vision, ignored the awakened agony in his shoulder. Survive. Survive!
The man gurgled as Haiden’s thumbs gouged deep into his windpipe, blocking his ability to pull oxygen into his lungs. Now the Watch Leader’s hands weren’t clawing at Haiden’s face; they grabbed desperately at the hands locked on his throat.
Time seemed to crawl as the facilitator crushed the life out of Amon. Somewhere inside Haiden screamed while he dug his thumbs into the security guard’s neck. With a sickening crunch he felt the plastmetal of the man’s trachea collapse under the single-minded pressure of his deathly grip.
A peculiar calm seemed to wash over the scene in Haiden’s mind. In surreal silence the security sentry stopped resisting; his hands released Haiden’s wrists, and his arms slid loosely to the ground. Life fled, and Watch Leader Amon lay still on the ground with his killer astride him, hands clawed into the bleeding ruin of his crushed throat.
Finally, Haiden released the guard and pulled his hands away. He could see the torn hole in the man’s throat, skin pale white against the blooming redness of frothy blood. He was still staring at his assailant, his eyes locked in final accusation; Haiden quickly stepped off the body and looked at the man’s chest; there was no rise and fall of breath, no ragged gasping for air. There was nothing.
Haiden looked back at the man’s face, which was now staring blankly into the rain-wet canopy above; stumbling away, he turned his hands over to look at his palms. They were beaded with sweat, scraped red from the dying android’s desperate clawing. Blood stained the saddle of his thumbs and had dried in thin rivulets down his wrists.
Suddenly dizzy, Max Haiden seated himself on a large stone peeking out of the moss near the body of the security sentry. His breathing was getting short, and he found himself struggling to find enough oxygen to pull into his lungs. He leaned backwards carefully, trying to allow his body to focus on breathing, but he found it increasingly difficult. Panic and pain overwhelmed him, and suddenly he began choking; tears welled up in his eyes and overflowed, creating streaks of clean contrast down the tight skin of his dirty cheeks. The outburst of emotion caught him off-guard; it was as if the pent-up horror of his situation had found an outlet and refused to be stanched. Assaulted by waves of panic and fear, he rolled onto his stomach and tried to muffle his body-wracking sobs in the soft moss.
Copyright © 2004-2005 Jay and David Steele. All rights reserved.


Good job on the description of Haiden's plight. I could see it action unfold. "single mindedness tainted with fury," "had found an outlet and refused to be stanched." NICE.
Posted by: curtis | July 14, 2005 at 08:18 PM