hey, I combined Ch 1 & 2 because it seemed redundant to have 2 prologues, and they were both pretty short to begin with.
The outland was no place for kids, so what the hell was one doing there? A single figure appeared slowly, the shimmering heat waves chopping the outline, which in turn stumbled over the roots of glass that was the sands of a great desert. Once upon a time...before the paroxysm event that changed the way people-anything, for that matter- lived.
A scout, screening the area for Sights, spotted the figure just as it fell and speed over on his hover craft, breaking inter-national law with the velocity. With a quick check to make sure his rifle was loaded, the scout dismounted his craft and cautiously made his way the motionless figure.
"Damn!" the scout exclaimed. Taking a large gulp of artificial air before removing his respirator mask to get a better look he swore again. Before him lie a human boy, black spiked hair, olive skin, and judging by the broken glass root trail an E.V.O to boot! What human with nonactive nanites could survive so long without a respirator? Flipping out a small communicator the scout babbled into the talk piece. Pausing only to take a breath from his mask.
"Command, come in command. This is scout 07905-2B17 I have found a person!"
"This is command, you have been identified 2B17, you found a person?"
"Yessir! Male, appears to be Caucasian, hard to tell from the sun out here. Black hair, black outfit."
"Can you identify the spices?"
"Active Evo, sir. And still breathing to boot!"
"Is that information legit scout?"
"As legit as it gets, sir. My position is Lo.51.2 La.110.7."
"We'll have a carrier meet you at the even."
"On i- Crap!" The scout couldn't finish because in the distance, crawling ever so stealthily across the glass desert, was a large black and brown wolf-like creature the size of a small bus. Upon sensing its prey became aware of it, the Sight broke into a full on sprint for him and the boy.
The scout put his mask back on and pulled the boy onto the craft and clumsily buckled the boy and himself in, choking under the pressure, Sights could run at a steady 80 M.P.H for almost three days without rest. He floored the craft bringing it to 75 miles per, if the Sight on their tail was a rouge and not working in a pack then their chances of escaping were doubled, however getting out without a scratch would be next to impossible.
"2B17, come in!" the abandoned com device screeched just before the single Sight crushed it, unaware of how much it just screwed over the scout and his passenger.
The scout entered the coordinate of the rendezvous into the computer and threw it into autopilot. Then he flipped over to pull the top over the craft incase a glass storm hit. Out of the corner of his eye, the scout noticed the Sight was much closer, to close for comfort, in fact.
"Hang on kid..." He muttered to his unconscious passenger before fishing around for a spare air mask, E.V.O's could survive longer in the harsh atmosphere than regular people, but it killed them too, eventually. He strapped the mask around the boys face and pulled up his rifle. Turning the craft around and throwing it into reverse so he could shoot at the mega-wolf.
But it had disappeared out of eye shot. And for am extremely frighting second, the scout glanced to the left and saw...nothing...then the craft flipped over as the huge mutated beast slammed into the right of it, sending it's passengers to the ground.
The craft rolled onto its side, the engine torn through and through, it lost its anti-gravitational characteristics and skidded to a stop, chipping the glass roots as it slowed. The boy flew to one side, landing sharply, but uninjured in a less jagged patch of glass. The respirator stayed put, revitalizing the boy's blood with oxygen. The scout landed on his back, he slid for a few yards fighting to right his weapon. As he took aim and emptied the clip into the Sight, the wolf-like beast landed on top of scout 2B17, crushing his rib cage, among other bones.
Out of nowhere, a second line of gunfire erupted and tore through the Sights protective skin where 2B17's scout rifle had failed to so much as scratch it.
The beast let out a gut-wrenching howl before snarling once as a second person in a respirator mask stepped up with a more powerful weapon. Then the beast turned and fled, to die in the foothills of the desert.
"This is Hunter 11734-2N61, I'v reached the location, 2B17 is too far gone, requesting shuttle." the second man muttered into an open comm link.
"Request granted, we'll be seeing you in five minutes 2N61." command crackled over the comm.
He stepped over to the fallen soldier to check damage, and confirmed what he already suspected. The man was drowning in his own blood.
"2B17?" 2N61 asked tiredly.
"Here...Sir..." The scout sputtered, raising his left (and unbroken) arm. The Hunter paused before firmly clamping his right hand onto the scouts left and held the hand until it grew limp. The worst thing out here was to die alone.
"Sir..." The scout fidgeted tirelessly, letting out a yelp of pain. He was to far to save, but to close to die quick and quietly. Sighing heavily, the hunter pulled up his battle rifle and aimed at the scouts head.
"See you in hell, Scout." The hunter muttered. 2B17 merely smirked before the hunter pulled the trigger, snuffing out the possibility of of a long, restless death.
2N61 then walked over to where the boy had landed. He checked his vital signs, all within acceptable range, although a bit slow. Aside from minor cuts and bruises from the rough landing, the boy was fine. In order to get a better look at the boy, he removed the spare respirator that had been keeping him alive (he would put it back on once he verified the person, and well before the boy suffocated)
The hunter paused, staring at the boy intently, something about him was unsettlingly familiar. Like a faraway face in a crowd of people that you wan't to run up and greet, even if its not the person you know or once knew, but the crowd won't let you through and the memory fades to grey, black, white, then nothing.
In pure aw at the possibility he knew the person, the hunter removed his safety goggles (unlike scouts, hunters only wore respirators that covered their mouth and nose, like a jet pilot from the old days before the Paroxysm event) and shuttered as his breath caught in his throat. His emotions changed from pure aw, to joy, to confusion, and ended with exited puzzlement.
"...Rex?" he yelled in disbelief. "Rex!" he began to accept the possibility. "Rex!" he stated bluntly before hoisting his unconscious long-lost (but apparently not forgotten) friend and carrying him to sit in the shade of his runner (the hunters version of a scout craft, slightly faster and twenty times more powerful) as they, Rex and Noah, waited for the shuttle to pick them up.