Fear.
He felt it like the cold hand of death, closing, slowly around his heart. He had never felt the likes of it. In all of his twenty-one years of campaigning with
the 1983rd Versuvian Tacticals, he had never felt fear like this.
He had faced death before. Oh yes, death was always as close as his next breath, and sometimes he feared it. But, not like this.
Nothing at all like this.
The war on Justicar IV had been a back and forth continent wide brawl for five years. For the past eighteen months, it had settled into a three thousand mile
front of fortified trenches with no one giving or taking ground. The war had been a bloody standoff.
Until now. Until twenty minutes ago, when THEY came, the terrible giants in adamantium and ceramite. They had broken the siege and nobody knew it.
Nobody, but the dead, and him of course.
He would be dead too, if he had not been buried under the mud and bodies when they dropped in over the lip of the trench and began killing everyone.
Their heavy armored boots pushed him further into the mud and dead as they raced along the trench line in a killing frenzy that felt like hours, but
was probably only seconds.
The siege was broken. Nobody knew this yet. Only the dead, and him, of course.
He was still alive. But not for long.
This war was lost, unless he could warn command.
But how?
They were hunting him, only they didn't know it yet. As soon as he moved, they would know, and he would be dead, or worse than dead.
There was a vox bunker just fifty meters to the west. If only he could get to it, there was a chance.
The Monsters had moved off.....
NOW!
He crawled from his tomb and exploded into a run, a stumble, a crawl.
He exploded again, west, down the trench line.
West, he ran, then stumbled, then crawled, then ran through the mud, the blood, and bodies.
West, he lurched, towards hopeless hope.
He fell into the armored door of the bunker.
A piercing shriek sounded out at the same instant. It was the sound of a great bird or prey. A great bird of prey from hell.
He projectile vomited. Blood ran from his ears and nose.
Numb with fear, he fumbled with the lock on the massive door. He clumsily pressed his hand against the biometric scanner,
then punched in the code to open the door. Stumbling through the opened door, he dragged it shut, locking himself in.
As he moved towards the vox caster, the air grew icy and took on a oily tang.
Once again, fear gripped him. A cold metal helm gently touched his cheek.
"Thank you", a silky voice cooed. "It was a short, but exquisite hunt."
"Now it's over..... I'm afraid this is going to hurt. But not for long."*