Date: Sat, 19 May 2007 21:12:15 -0700 (PDT)
From: Gene McEnnis <corporeal09@yahoo.com>
Subject: Infected Heartstrings - Chapter 1

	In the distance he could almost hear the rising smoke, its tendrils
worming through the red and gray torn sky like fingers of death.  His
breath came in short rapid bursts that would cost him his life if he wasn't
careful.  Quietly he gripped the plasma rifle and concentrated as if
willing his heart to slow down, to calm down.
	Then it happened.
	He heard the screams of his comrades through the sound of the
explosion.  He reeled, automatic engrained senses and systems took hold and
in a split second he had rolled free of his cover and was rapidly crossing
the catwalk on the side of the building scanning for any signs of his
group.
	"Position compromised," he heard an older man's voice belt through
the intercom, "Multiple agents lost.  Fall back and scatter."
	The line spasmed and went dead.
	"Corrigan," he hissed into his helmet, "Corrigan do you read?"
	Only static replied.
	"Damn it old man."
	Quickly he stopped and slid behind the next concrete pillar.  His
breath had sped up to the point of pain.  He swallowed hard and peered
around the cracked stone corner.  He could see the ash was starting to
settle on the open courtyard below like gray snow.  He was lucky.  The two
fading heat signatures a floor above hadn't been so lucky.
	"Shit," he swore again.
	A flicker of movement made him pause, his head was in his hand and
his knees pulled up tight.  The moment's hesitation might have been his
last-they were coming through the center of the open ruins now.
	Gripping his rifle to his body he tensed for one brief second
before he was on his feet and sprinting to the side of the catwalk.  He
didn't have to look to see that the shadows right beside him were bubbling
away from the wall-he knew they were coming.  He could feel the dread
creeping into his lungs, spreading to his limbs and mind.
	Hoisting himself onto the balcony while still on the run his legs
pushed hard and propelled him into the air above the shattered courtyard.
For a brief second his stomach enjoyed weightlessness before his rifle
caught in the middle of the trip wire and he grabbed the end of the rifle
with his free hand.  He swung out slightly before gravity propelled him
along the length of the cable to the carnage below.
	As he was nearing the ground he could feel that something was wrong
before the line snapped.  He grabbed the gun and tucked it to his body as
the ground was fast approaching.  With the seasoned grace of a cat he hit
and rolled twice along the disheveled cement.  His helmet lay a few feet
from where he landed and, unlike, him apparently didn't always land on its
feet.  Blue and purple sparks arced from the shattered half visor.
	His shining eyes and coal black hair seemed to sparkle in the fetid
wind as the last vestige of lights danced across the sky.  He stayed
perfectly still, every muscle and sinew in his body tensed, his heart
racing ever forward.  Pain was no longer a concern.
	Suddenly the courtyard erupted in a spray of debris and flame as
maybe two-dozen shadows sprang from every nook and cranny of the ruined
building.  They seemed to be made of the inky darkness itself but he knew
better.  As he watched, the shadowy substance melted from their bodies
leaving a dark gunmetal hide, one gleaming red eye and claws shaped like a
multitude of pruning shears.  As quickly as they came, they rapidly spread
out to block off the hole in the side of the building where the shell had
hit only moments ago.
	All in unison their heads snapped up, claws tensed with mechanical
precision and their bleating red light filled the arena.  They then began
to move as one, slinking like unnatural nightmares across the war torn
courtyard.
	Springing up he rushed the nearest creature and fired three rapid
pulse shots into its chest.  The creature stumbled slightly but kept
coming.  The young man hurtled himself at the robot, his weight catching
the creature off guard enough to toppled it backwards.  As his hands caught
the cement flooring he flexed his spine in one quick movement and was on
his feet once more.
	The creatures took only moments to react, their claws swiping
downwards at their smaller prey.  Amazingly he ducked the first set of
claws and kicked back against the second creature behind him.  Narrowly
missing evisceration, he managed to get to the side of the structure.
Tumbling past the final two robots he grabbed hold of the rifle and fired a
barrage of pulses at the nearest robots.  Again the creatures spasmed for a
brief second then stopped.  All of the creatures paused, as if surprised by
his actions.  The first robot looked back at the man in what he swore
looked like amusement.  The black face of the robots seemed to melt for
half a second only to be replaced by the once handsome features of a man.
	"Allan," he cried, his eyes brimming, "I...."
	All at once they sprung at him, claws outstretched to claim their
prize.
	"Shit," he swore.  Quickly he flipped backwards and braced himself
in mid-air against the ruined stone steps just inside of the courtyard.  As
the dark assassins turned to face him, he kicked off the stairs and landed
on the first catwalk level of the building.  He ran.  His hot tears blinded
him, but he ran.
	He could hear the creatures fast approaching and could see some of
the robots leaping up the catwalk themselves.  As he ran, he began to input
commands into the side panel of the plasma rifle as quickly as he could.
	He ducked as the claws of one of the robots narrowly missed his
head.  He glanced up and saw the distorted face once more.  The thing that
was once Allan was climbing along the top of the catwalk on all fours and
would not miss a second swing.  Then he saw what he was waiting for; the
gap in the floor.  As the creature's claws lanced forward and as the
creatures behind him closed in for the kill, he dropped into a slide
narrowly avoiding certain death.
	He fell through the floor and landed in a crouch.  He fought back
his heart as he heard the insistent beeping of his plasma rifle still
perched on the catwalk above before the overload explosion rocked the
catwalk and half of the building above his head.  He was blown quickly into
the air and tossed clear across the courtyard like a child's toy landing
hard on his side.  He rolled over the rubble, still dizzy from the
explosion.
	Three of the catwalks on the building had collapsed from the force
of the explosion and a decent hole marked his triumph.  His breath still
came quickly in gasps and fits but as the dust began to settle he could
feel his heart swell.
	"Allan," he tried to say but only a rasping gasp came out.
	A slight noise made his ears prick up and his heart sink back down
into the depths of despair.  The rubble began to move and the shadows of
the arena once more started to swell in anger and frustration.
	The man braced himself and clenched his fists tightly.  It just
couldn't have been that easy could it?  With superhuman speed, the
courtyard erupted in a frenzy of black shapes that raced across the divide
now intent more than ever of claiming their victory.
	He jumped up into the air, his body hung for a brief second before
the twist of his hips caused him to narrowly avoid the first robot.
Bringing his legs up close to his body he kicked off of the robot and
sailed through the small divide between two of the killer machines still in
mid pounce.  He rolled forward and soon found himself surrounded on all
sides by a sea of black shapes, sharp talons and intent, red eyes filled
with nothing but cold, quick death.  He couldn't see the familiar warped
face of the man anywhere in the crowd.
	Again they came in unison and the came quickly.  Their shimmering
bodies reflecting the first gleams of moonlight as they moved and danced
forward.
	Then...
	They stopped.
	He paused, staring at the strange creatures as each one stretched
its short neck and torso skyward.
	Then heard it.  The sound of engines.  His heart soared for one
brief moment before the blue aura and exhaust air spilled into the area.
He could see the ship clearly now.  He peered at the insignia on the side
of the vessel and knew nothing.  Strobe lights played into the courtyard
and in the distance he could hear the sound of explosions.  Suddenly the
side door of the craft slid open with a metallic shlink and many large
humanoid robots began spilling out.
	The raven haired man's neck bristled with panic even before the
robots began to fire high impact rounds into the ruins and through the dark
robots below.  The ground itself shook with the force of their artillery as
the skies rained death.  Some of the robots danced in a sensuous macabre
fashion as they were caught in the fire and reduced to rubble and sparking
scraps while others slid back into the shadows.
	Quickly, the man bolted for the side stairs and vaulted them in a
heartbeat.  All around him, death continued to rain from the sky.  And he
didn't want to find out if it was picky.  His black and red assailants were
no longer interested in their prey; they had their own problems it seemed.
	When he reached the top of the stairs he jumped up and grabbed the
ledge above.  With all of his strength he kicked off the ledge and arched
his spine upwards until his feet touched the ledge above before his hands
released and his body righted itself.  Within seconds he had climbed over
halfway up the far side of the building, jumping and climbing from catwalk
to half destroyed catwalk with ease.  Soon he reached the top of the
structure but...something was wrong.  He could feel it before his mind
could tell him directly.
	He couldn't hear the sounds of gunfire anymore only the sounds of
the ships interstellar engines and something.... something else.  For a
brief moment he could feel a warm breeze tussle his hair.  He turned slowly
away from the expanse of ruined and smoking buildings that lay in the
distance to see one of the robots hovering mere feet from him.  Within the
white helmet he could see what he thought was a man inside.  He had blond
hair and a strong jaw.
	The dark haired man took a step back and hesitated.  "No," he felt
hot tears line his dusty face, "It can't be you..." It was that very second
that cost him a great deal as the robot-suit raised up a sleek cannon and
fired without hesitation.  Something hit him square in the chest and pushed
him backwards over the side of the building.  His dark hair danced above
his face as the wind gripped him, not with a warm caress but with
knife-cold terror.  He could feel a weightlessness in the pit of his
stomach.
	Then everything went black


************************************************************************

Author's note:
	Hey guys, I'm not sure about this story so far (i.e. not sure if
I'll continue it).  Never thought I'd be writing a Sci/Fi story haha.  Drop
me a line if you're bored or have any ideas = corporeal09@yahoo.com.

-Gene