Jon Messenger - Burden of Sisyphus

A shadow passed over Vance. He dropped to one knee and saw the Seque pass over his head. Missing its target, it shifted in midair and fell atop a soldier running ahead of Vance and Eza. Before Vance could raise his rifle, a whirl of steel fell on the Seque. Emerald blood spewed from its body, as Eza’s ax tore through its flesh and struck joints and other exposed areas. Soon the Seque collapsed to the ground. Drenched in viridian gore, Eza pulled Vance to his feet and continued running toward the ship.

Having stopped for a moment, they fell farther behind Yen, Decker, and the three remaining soldiers. In the deepening night, more red eyes emerged alongside the path. Behind them, they heard the squishing sound of heavy footsteps.

Vance’s breath burned in his throat. The Seques closed the distance quickly, running awkwardly on short back legs and swinging their bodies forward with each gait using their elongated arms. Though their legs pumped rapidly, the Alliance men didn’t have a chance of outrunning the monsters.

“We’ll never make the warehouses in time,” Vance said, praying to the gods that at least Yen and his group would escape. “They’re too fast.”

“Keep running.” Eza’s face strained from exertion.

“We won’t get out of here alive.” The realization hung heavily on him, as he felt like luck running out.

“No. You’re making it out of here.” Eza slid to a halt and spun toward the advancing Seques.

“What are you doing?” Vance looked back when he realized the Wyndgaart wasn’t following.

“Making sure you get out of here alive!” he shouted, not looking back. “Either you stand beside me and die here, or you keep running and stop Captain Young. I’d rather you lived long enough to kill the traitorous son of a bitch, so go!”

Vance started to turn, intending to run back to Eza’s side and pull him to the warehouse if he resisted. Sensing Vance’s hesitation, Eza ran at an approaching Seque and slid under its long claws, slamming his ax into its groin and dropping it to the ground. Steel flashed dizzingly back and forth, as he let the Voice saturate his body. Moving like a serpent, he struck the advancing Seque repeatedly, and they stopped chasing the others to deal with the new threat.

Claws bit at his flesh, as more of the creatures surrounded him. He struck alternately with ax and pistol, severing the fingers of any Seque that reached out aggressively or placing well-aimed bullets in exposed knees, groins, or faces. He staggered as he leaped aside from a diving Seque, but its sharp teeth slashed his leg. The tips of a clawed hand caught his chest. He moved backward quickly, but it wasn’t far enough. Bleeding and in pain, he fought on.

Stepping backward slowly, Vance stared in disbelief at the sacrifice made on his behalf. Blood seeped from multiple wounds on Eza’s body, but he fought like a man possessed, cutting down more and more of the beasts and halting their advance on his leader.

Knowing he couldn’t let his friend die in vain, Vance turned and sprinted toward the warehouse. He didn’t look back, because he didn’t want to see Eza die at the hands of the monsters.

Yen and Decker led their group toward the warehouse. Only one soldier followed. Two others were caught by pursuing Seques and dragged down. The warehouse loomed, its lettering and numbers emerging from the gloom of the dim night. The personnel door was set to one side of the massive bay doors, and Yen angled his run toward it.

As he neared the building, a large shape broke from the shadows between two warehouses. Slathering jowls emerged from the darkness, as a Seque charged them. Nearly fifteen feet tall, it bore down on trio, as they slid to a halt on the wet ground.

The air around Yen shimmered in the weak light. Splaying his fingers before him, he clamped down on the Seque’s nervous system, as he did to the Terran soldier before. It stopped, a look of confusion replacing the rage it felt a moment before. Tilting its head to one side, it snarled and planted one foot in the soft soil, taking an angry step forward, though its momentum was slowed by Yen’s resistance.

His eyes narrowed to slits, and the aura of shimmering air around him expanded, whipping his hair wildly in an unseen breeze. The Seque slid backward, losing traction even though it dug its clawed feet deeper into the ground. With a howl, it pushed forward again, fighting Yen’s control.

Blood seeped from Yen’s nose and ran down over his lip to drip from his chin. “I can’t hold it!” he said in a weak, strained voice.

Decker’s first shot caught the Seque’s knee. It staggered from Yen’s psychic energy and the shattered kneecap. Before it could fall, Decker fired two more rounds into the huge beast’s left temple.

The Seque was driven backward by Yen’s force. Its eyes rolled back into their sockets, and it pitched over backward, collapsing to the grass.

Yen’s knees buckled, as the energy around him abated. Decker quickly helped him to his feet and pulled him inside the open door of the warehouse. Letting the surviving infantryman take Yen, Decker turned and saw Vance dive through the open door.

“Close it!” Vance shouted, landing on his back with his weapon trained on the doorway, where dozens of Seques rushed toward them.

Decker slammed the door and threw the locking bar moments before angry Seques barreled against the building. Using the wall for support, Vance climbed to his feet and examined the four survivors. Yen wobbled on his feet, leaning heavily against the soldier.

“Is he all right?” Vance asked.

“I hope so,” Decker said. “He strained himself pretty bad stopping that Seque.” He looked around in surprise. “Where’s Eza?”

Vance slowly shook his head, feeling a knot build in his throat, as tears slid from his eyes. Eza sacrificed himself so Vance could have his revenge against Captain Young. He wouldn’t let such a sacrifice be in vain.

Turning away from the others, he surveyed the busy warehouse. Piles of boxes filled the near half of the room, but a ship dominated the rear half. Its glossy silver exterior glowed in the darkness.

Leading the way, he pushed past the cluttered collection of supplies until he reached the rear hatch of the Cair Ilmun. When he entered his ID code, the door opened with a hiss, and the interior lights came on, flooding the area around the ship in a halo of illumination. Though they still heard the banging of Seque outside the building, the four survivors boarded the ship reverently.

Yen pushed past the soldier and walked toward the cockpit. Rubbing his temples as if suffering from a severe headache, he went past Vance and Decker to the front of the ship. He stumbled, nearly falling into a bench that lined the crew compartment.

“Are you healthy enough to fly this?” Vance asked wearily.

Since Yen was the only qualified pilot left alive, they had few options. “If it means getting off this planet, I’ll be fine. You might want to strap yourselves in.”

They sat down and strapped in, their hearts racing, as the engines roared during Yen’s preflight checks. Above them, they heard the rumble of automated machinery opening the ceiling to allow them to depart from the warehouse.

As the Cair Ilmun lifted off, Vance closed his eyes and let a tear stream down his face for all those who died. Of the 127 soldiers who deployed to Purseus II, only four were onboard the ship as it broke atmosphere, leaving hundreds of howling Seque behind.

Keryn kicked off from the ground and rose into the air above Lake Arcendor. Around her, nearly two hundred cadets filled the sky and began separating, finding their distinct starting areas before the day’s aerial joust. Through the bustle and jockeying for key starting positions, Keryn found an open spot near the lake’s northern rim, giving her a clear view of her opponents and leaving no space behind her for a surprise attack. Unlike the previous day, she hovered midway up the field, allowing her fellow cadets to position themselves above and below her.