Dust

Nine: The Burning

"Kyros! What's happening?!" I shout, as I race to catch up with him. He doesn't answer, merely throwing a wide-eyed glance behind us.

"They're coming for us!" Mikhail yells, thundering past me as he races away from whatever is back there.

As another screech fills the air, I run like I never have before. My legs burn with exertion and my lungs gasp desperately for air, but I'm too afraid to stop. With my pack pounding heavily against my back, I feel like I'm running with an elephant on my back. With a quick glance behind me, I can see Felix leading Callista, and Titus leading Thea away from the creatures in the night. Though I cannot make out anything distinct, the sand billowing in the distance and the sound of thundering footsteps warn me of the oncoming attack.

Attack. That's what's happening; we're being attacked.

Turning back to Kyros in the lead, I can see the very edges of the sun peeking out over the horizon. It's funny; I never noticed how early the sun rose. I'd always tried to watch it rise, but back at home it rose earlier than this. Unless my internal clock is completely messed up. The silhouettes of our pursuers are now visible, and the speed by which they approach is frightening. With a glance backwards, Mikhail slows slightly so that he runs by my side. His hand clutches the gun that is strapped to his back, and I can tell he's fighting the urge to use it. The thumping against my upper thigh reminds of the weapon I sport as well, but after Kyros' words of caution, I have no intention of using it unless absolutely necessary.

Which might be sooner than I think.

With a shriek of horror I recognize as Callista's, she collapses as one of the creatures takes hold of her leg.

With that motion, I get a full view of their ghastly appearance.

Red, bloodshot eyes look up at me, dark, matted hair falling slightly over his forehead. Pale, almost graying skin covers a strong and menacingly muscular body, and where our skin is smooth, theirs is marred and bent out of shape, like flaking scar tissue. Like the places where burns have healed and are peeling, but all over. These creatures may have been human once, but the hungry, animalistic look in the man's eye strikes terror into my soul. His clothes had probably once been those of a traveller: he is barefoot and shirtless now, but his pants are much like the ones Titus and Kyros are wearing.

Give or take a few bloodstains and holes.

Hanging from his belt is a sickly curved knife, fashioned out of what appears to be scrap metal. It is heavily rusted, and bent out of shape, but still looks like it could easily decapitate someone.

Kyros glances backwards, skidding to a stop. I contemplate running past him, but he's our only hope to get to the Refuge.

"Ari! Leave them, and keep running!" Mikhail yells as he runs past, and anger sparks in my soul at his words.

If they die, I die with them. Like it or not, these are my friends. My family.

Kyros nods towards me in approval, and then suddenly slings the gun over his broad shoulders into his hands. I cover my ears and crouch to the ground, fully expecting him to shoot them, but instead, he fires into the sky.

"Dakros!" he yells, and the man I had seen before throws back his head and lets out a laugh as he slows to a stop in front of Kyros. Felix pulls Callista to her feet as the Burning release her, and they run towards Titus, Thea, and Mikhail. The blonde boy approaches me, taking my hand as he pulls me away from the pack of savages beyond. As I look them over, I fight the bile that rises up in my stomach. They all have the same sickly gray and flaking skin, with knives, spears, and bows fashioned from metal shards. Even the women have shorter hair, cut messily and carelessly. Their clothing is that of various different social standings, but any garment they wear is torn after who knows how many years of wear. Some of them carry skins of water over their shoulders, and for a moment I wonder where they get it from.