Fiction | Dystopian
The Gods Return
What happens when they come back for more?
Hawk Malkin was lighting a cigarette when the sky fell on him.
One moment it had been so calm, nothing around, no disturbances but the occasional sparkle of birdsong. Clouds, blue skies, mountainside. A normal day for a sentry on the disputed frontier.
And the next — an explosion from nowhere. Trees ripped up, boulders flying, fragments of earth above and sky below.
When everything stopped moving, Hawk decided that he was still alive. He was curled into a ball, with no clear recollection of how he had landed. Years of training had kicked in, perhaps, as he’d hit the ground from who-knew-what distance.
Or had the ground hit him?
Then, agony exploded across his sides and back as his pain receptors caught up, recording every impact and injury.
Letting out a slow and agonized groan, Hawk moved a fraction, partly to check that he still could, then rolled onto his side, forcing himself to calm down and focus. His thoughts were racing; how had the enemy got a bomb out here? Or, had he somehow triggered a booby trap? Surely not… He had been standing perfectly still, the cigarette lighter the only motion. Could the heat or light somehow have…
