The Bellwether

The smell of cooked meat sears my nostrils.

I stumble over metal vines and mechanical debris as I run out into the cold hard sky, whose nighttime wind snaps at my skin. Rubbing my bare arms in an effort to warm myself up, I hide behind what seems to be the cylindrical remains of an engine.

In the air I can hear the screams, and souls being tortured as they beg for release.

But no matter! I have a mission to complete. So long as can reach that Beacon -- so long as I can send that distress signal -- things'll be okay. Help will come, and I'll be free from this hellhole once and for all. I'll be able to cuddle up in a warm bed with my boyfriend...and drink warm chicken soup...and laugh at sitcom re-runs...

Snap!

A rustling sound roughly twenty meters away catches my attention. I crouch down like a cat, my back tensed and my hair standing on end while my heart pounds away in my ears. The sound remains where it is; apparently it hasn't found me yet. Slowly, I crawl in the opposite direction, taking care to not make the tiniest noise.

The rustling grows farther and farther away as I continue putting distance between it and myself. Soon, I cannot hear it at all, and I increase my pace toward the dim flashing light floating like a disembodied eye over the craggy hills -- knowing that light belongs to the Beacon.

Eventually, I break into a light jog. As I navigate over the terrain, and as the muscles in my legs heat up from the exertion, I remember the training that I received prior to all the shit that's happened. I remember what I was sent here for:

Officer L. Daniels. Exploratory Mission 3358. Confirm the status of the Colony on Planet NB32. Last communication from the Colony was 42 Earth-Days prior. Apparent catastrophic failure in one of the Colony's primary systems.

We never learned which system suffered that "catastrophic failure." It ended up not mattering much anyways, because we were all running for our lives as each of us -- one-by-one -- disappeared with sharp screams and outstretched fingers clawing for dear life.

In my mind now, I can hear Major Foley complaining before she also got taken away: "We shoulda brought the damn Army with us rather than a fraternity party with a couple of rifles!"

Major Foley was right. Too bad our Captain just wouldn't listen to her. Or to us. Or even to his First Mate who tried to warn him about the weird monstrous thing that'd just crept up behind him.

Our Captain was gone before he could do his usual boast about being beating "the ever-living crap outta all the roots of evil" on this planet.

What're the roots of evil on this planet anyways? I think to myself as I continue my trek toward the Beacon. It's like the shadows themselves have risen up to predate on us. I've not been able to fully see the creatures committing all those atrocities on my crew-mates. I've not been able to fully see anything, but I've sure been hearing everything. I've heard enough human sounds of suffering to last ten lifetimes.

I can hear the Beacon's slow beep reverberate over the hilltops now. In front of me, against the backdrop of a dark universe tinted slightly purple by this planet's atmosphere, a cone-shaped structure rises from the ground. On its very tip is that blinking light, steadily ticking away the seconds of my life with its almost sensual cadence. The light's my savior. My hope. My ticket to safety, to nights with a gentle arm around my waist.

Home is the light.

I thump against the console at the base of the Beacon and, with frantic fingers, flip its switches on.

To my relief, the console breathes to life. I quickly navigate through its menus to initiate the S.O.S. program, whereupon a hum vibrates through the entire structure. The light stops blinking and takes on a deep pulsating purple hue. Breathing heavily, I lean on the structure and wait for my composure to return to my body.

No longer than fifteen minutes pass when I hear a rumble in the air above me. From there, lights suddenly beam down on the ground around the Beacon, and I look up to see a Federation ship slowly descending from the sky. With tears brimming in my eyes, I rush over to the ship, my arms practically jumping from their sockets as I wave at it.

Inside the ship, I'm surrounded by crewmen, and am covered in warm blankets and given a bowl of hot soup. I hear a mechanical roar as the ship cruises away from the Beacon and back over those craggy hills that I've traversed.

"Lindsey!"

I turn in the direction of that familiar voice. To my surprise, I see Brandon approaching me; clad in an officer's gear, my beloved pulls me into a tight hug -- his body shaking as he holds me for what seems like an eternity of peace.

"Brandon...I missed you," I say softly, tears dripping down my cheeks.

"Same, honey." Brandon leans back and cups my cheeks. "But, we're together now, honey. You don't have to feel afraid anymore."

"I don't," I reply with a smile. "Not anymore."

"Now honey, come." Brandon takes my hand and leads me down to the kitchen. "We're serving dinner, and I think you have enough space left in your belly for some more food."

"Nah, I think I've had enough--" My breath catches in my throat as I spot the cook flipping over large pieces of meat in the oven.

"What's wrong, honey?" Brandon asks.

I'm unable to reply. I feel the room closing in on me. Among the crackling sounds of the darkened flesh sizzling in the oven, I hear those souls calling out.

And I smell it. That searing scent of cooked meat.