CA[RAD: SKY-LINE

Chapter One

In the cold, lonely morning, I felt a shiver while waking to the sound of the sands shifting. The rocks here liked to bulge. Sometimes, I heard the rocks instead. Beneath the ground, rolling along with the slithering sand. It was, trustful of me to sleep outside in these days and nights. In the middle of nowhere, between dunes and on plains of nothingness. I knew that the cold would not last, soon, the heat would set in. And I needed water, still.

Outpost 45. The last remaining outpost in the region, still capable of supporting life from the inside. There's food to eat, water to drink, beds to sleep on and fresh air from which to breathe. Stories that passed through my old tavern, on the low, last month have set me on my search for outpost 45. Metaphorically, it's a gold mine in terms of supplies. If obtained, I can last longer on this ridden Earth. The luxury of a place stacked with such items, has become a rarity. All other outposts have been raided. If I get this one, if I just manage, I'll surely be guaranteed at least an extra day to live. That, I can sleep on.

Me and Dot, my Autonomous Operating Robot (AOR) have been on the search for about a week now. The heat slows us down, and so do the cleansing storms which doom us. We can escape this storms in my mobile shelter. Like a tent, but stronger. Held down by a fierce weight and kept in place by this element of design. A handy thing. 

Dot seems to be a bit on edge as I walk out into the roaring desert. It's dark, but I can see the sky beginning to light up. Dot is a special droid, it worries about my health and every time I step onto them desert sands, I hear Dot calling my name. 

"Hank, please. The desert is dangerous in this condition, step back into the shelter." Says Dot, in it's mechanical playing voice.

"Oh, Dot. You worry too much my friend."

I stood right by the small door to the shelter, holding a hot mug in my hand. It may well be the last coffee I ever have. Heck, anything that I currently own could be the last time I own anything of its sort. Things keep discreetly vanishing off the shelves of the shops in towns these days. Trade among towns by caravans have become routine in order to keep stocks, but some things just never make it to a village. And when they don't, they never make it to the next. Or the next.

"Come on, Dot. Pack up the shelter. We need to get moving. And show us that map when you finish."

See, it was like this. When things went missing from the trade, these particular things became particularly valuable, if any were found. Some value could maybe be scavenged from the outpost I was looking for. This was essentially a  treasure hunt for me and Dot. And the map that Dot was carrying, was quite exquisite. One I made myself. It projected the land in a 3D manner, and showed exactly where we were, and where we had been. We had enough reason to believe that we would soon be closing in on outpost 45. So I was mind set on getting there as soon as possible. We may not be the only ones looking for the outpost.

"I've calculated the most likely locations where we may be able to find Outpost 45, sir." Dot explained, sticking his oddly square head out of the shelter.

"I told you to pack up first, Dot. Hm, maybe I need to check your wiring." I stressed as I supped on my poorly made coffee. 

"Forgive me sir, but I've appointed new priorities." Announced Dot.

I turned my head to face Dot, now stationed right behind me, calculating further directions.

"It appears we've been followed, sir. I am trying to find a route in which we may loose them. But if we are to rid the followers, then I suggest we make haste." Exclaimed Dot.

"Followed, by who? And forget your priorities then, we still have time to pack the shelter." I said.

"I'm afraid to tell you sir, we do not have time to pack the shelter. They are approaching us, sir. They are approaching fast." Said Dot.

I looked around, dropping my coffee. I drew an electric revolver, my weapon of preference. I couldn't make out a single target from any direction. It seemed Dot could be wrong.

"Dot..." I said, with a dragging tone. "I don't see anything or anyone, are you sure we've been followed?" 

"Yes sir. But new information tells and proves to me that the life-form may be approaching from underground. And not trying to sound rude sir, but running now seems pointless. You've taken too long assessing the situation."

"I've taken too long?!" I exclaimed in annoyance with a genuine undertone of confusion, and soon, dismay.

Whoever is approaching, must definitely be coming in fast. And soon, I could see it. The hump in the sands, coming closer and closer, faster and faster. My eyes were booming up, and I threw myself to the side. The hump knocked Dot hard down on his side. Dot was never good when it came to getting out of the way of things. The hump then stopped behind us, it was still now. Laying down, I looked with more confusion. It couldn't be a sand worm, those things don't 'follow' people on purpose. Maybe by coincidence... Was it a sand worm, maybe? If so, we were in danger. Those things are vicious. 

But something, more apparent, caught my eyes now. I was laying on the ground, back to the sand, staring to the stars. But, one star in particular looked like a line. A small line; white and sharply straight. How, odd. I glared at my disbelief, before passing out.