The lights of the computer module blinked ferociously, dragging me out of my sleep. Usually, Comm Room G doesn't get many alerts. We just call it "nap time." CR G was my one of my least favorite positions. The leaders make a rotation for all working members of the camp so that no one person can stay in any spot for too long. It's great most of the time, but when you get stuck in CR G for a week, it seems never-ending.
The lights near Sector 3 were flashing. That meant that an unidentified person was in that sector. When an alert comes in for CR G, it was usually the sensors accidentally scanning an animal or other living thing. No humans were left on the outside. At least, that's what the leaders said. I guess I'll send a team out to investigate, but I didn't have much hope. A misfire call can get a person trash duty for two weeks. And that's even worse than CR G.
"Team 14 dispatch. Sector 3 alert. West segment. Report immediately."
I hung up. Now, I wait.
YOU ARE READING
At World's End
Ciencia FicciónThe night faded to a deeper black, cutting out all bits of light like a butcher cuts out meat. The crowd gathered around the fallen man. He writhed in pain, scrambling on the ground for any piece of evidence that he wasn't alone. Wasn't dying. But a...
