She could see the heat reflected on the sand. Now and then there would be a light breeze that shifted some of the sand grains and disturbed the silent wasteland, but that was not new. Large skyscrapers stood buried in sand, all abandoned, and a bleak reminder of what the city had once looked like.

Many years ago, this had been a thriving city, before the Affected had taken over.

There was a small group of people dressed in white military suits slowly making their way through the city, guns in hand and big knives on their back. No one was talking and even their footsteps were silent, the impression they left in the sand was proof they were, in fact, real.

Walking at the head of the group was a big woman, around thirty years old, her narrowed green eyes taking in the scene before her. Standing well above six feet, with shaved blond hair under her headwrap and a big scar in the middle of her face, she stuck out in the group of soldiers.

Her body tensed under her suit as her eyes snapped towards a movement on her left. She had repeated that same action multiple times now, so it was nothing new. The group had only ever heard stories of their leader, as it was their first mission together, but still nobody commented on it.

"It's too silent," she said, standing still and focusing her attention to try and see anything unusual around them.

She looked at the young boy who was supposed to be the vice team leader, but, in reality, was nothing more than some greenie who had pulled the short string.

"Uh… well, yes, it is." He tried to sound authoritative, but she could see the fear in his face as clear as the sand around them.

The rest of the group grabbed their guns a bit tighter. Guns were a gamble out there in the desert, as sand got into literally everything. The knives on their backs were a good alternative.

She was almost sure they were being set up. It was too convenient; a group of rookies, her, and a silent city. It screamed of a giant trap, of something premeditated.

How did this even happen? Who would send them out here? This couldn't be a normal patrol; no normal patrol was this quiet.

There was no one in this group of greenies that could piss off upper management so much they would be used as cannon fodder. So, what did she do?

That thought almost made her stumble over her own feet.

They knew.

In her head she started screaming, keeping her face motionless. Who had told? Her partner? He was the only one who knew, or had he told somebody else?

Fuck. This is a set up and she was not supposed to make it out alive.

Looking around the group, all she saw were the already fearful faces of her crew. No way she could tell them she thought this was a set up. The kid behind her looked like he was already pissing his pants.

Her whole life she had focused on bringing down the Affected and she was close. Really close. Too close for those who benefited from it.

They would need to get back to the helicopter if they wanted to survive.

"I suggest we go back. Clearly this is some kind of trap the Affected have set up. We retreat now and we come back with reinforcements."

Logical and calm on the outside, but inside she was raging.

In this military environment there was no such thing as a tactical retreat, but because she suggested the plan, it would be her name dragged through the mud. It would also give her enough time being yelled at by superiors, to search for the one who blabbed and the one that wanted her dead.

She had already turned around when her second agreed with her, relief clear in his voice. She swore to herself the moment she got into her room she would smash anything that was smash-able.

But it looked like the choice was already made for them.

Almost back at their helicopter a loud explosion was heard and black smoke rose in the air, carrying the smell of metal and flesh.

Taking the lead, she ran towards the clouds, climbing over a sand dune, and coming eye to eye with their helicopter, which was now on fire. She didn't pay attention to her crew, who quickly took place at her sides, and her eyes searched the rubble for their driver. It was a lost cause.

Another giant explosion had everyone ducking for cover. That had to be the fuel tank. The surroundings seemed undisturbed, but helicopters didn't just explode. Her eyes searched for the characteristic signs. They fell on the bloodied childlike handprints on the side of the helicopter, yet to be burned off.

"Small Ones! Formation circle!" Was the first thing out of her mouth. The person next to her let out a whimper, but the group quickly formed a circle with all their backs to each other.

Around 100 years ago when the Sickness had started, it had been adults it affected. Long story short; zombies.

The adult ones were stupid and easy predictable, with both mind and body affected. That is how 20 years ago they were almost extinct, until some adult Affected had found enough brain cells to try and affect a child. It worked, but the Small Ones only lost their bodies in the process, not their minds.

The Affected children were essentially trapped in their own enhanced body. While they tried to kill you, most of them would be crying, begging for their own body to stop, and screaming apologies. Slowly over time they lost all their emotions and would retreat into their heads. Those Small Ones were silent, with just a vacant look in their eyes.

Those were the deadliest.

Every parent not being able to afford decent protection was afraid they would wake up and find their children missing from their beds. Weapons, security, and protected communities were like the oil and cigarettes of the olden ages.

Most soldiers had already gotten used to it, but there was always someone that would be too morally 'good' to shoot and kill something that looked like a crying child.

She saw killing them as having mercy.

"M-maybe they left?" Her second stuttered over his own words. He sent a hopeful glance her way, as if she had to confirm his suspicion for it to be true.

"Small Ones don't leave once they smell flesh," she replied without a doubt. Clearly none of these people had even seen a Small One before.

This situation was looking worse by the second.

"Do you see that?" The man on her other side cried out. "I think the pilot was moving! Maybe he is still alive!"

He sounded hysterical, but apparently not hysterical enough to stay grounded. In some kind of foolish attempt at saving a life, he dashed down the sand dune, downward to the flaming piece of metal.

Idiot.

While the people in the circle automatically filled his spot, some cried out to him to come back. He didn't listen and she didn't even try. Keeping her eyes on him he stumbled across sand until he was halfway. She had to squint her eyes to see what was happening, the sun glaring hot above them, but when it happened it was as if it happened right in front of them.

Jumping out of the sand, what had first looked like a normal unmoving sand lumps, was half a dozen Small Ones. The person next to her cried out in surprise and fear. They made no sound as they tore him apart, one on each limb, one on the head, and the other got the thorax. The sand coloured red and they never heard him scream.

It was over in a blink.

"There are too many, normally they don't even work in pairs." She frowned, gripping her gun tighter.

It was uncharacteristic and there were alarm bells ringing in her head. Clearly not the right thing to say as the person next to her started shaking. Taking a deep breath, calming herself, she reflected on the situation.

She was going to die here and stupid politicians were going to get their way. Great.

Removing the safety of her gun had the people around her doing the same. At this point she had lived through so much dying was not the scariest thing she could imagine. Life sucked and maybe in death she would finally find some peace and rest.

She just hated it was because of some old fat guy in a suit.

"Gear up." Her words to her crew were spoken harshly. She heard some sniffles around her, but everybody listened.

Nobody was optimistic enough to think they would survive this.

Across from them in the desert there were Small Ones standing up from their sand lumps. Small children cried as they looked at the adults surrounding her, who were also crying.

Fucking crybabies, all of them.

More and more Small Ones rose from the sand, and soon it was a whole platoon of children standing in front of them. The helicopter was still on fire, smoke rising in the air, but now that the fuel tank was gone it should not have any more surprise explosions.

The part of her mind that wasn't observing the Small Ones, told her it was curious. Why were there so many seemingly new Small Ones in one place? It had the possibility to mean one thing, but what were those chances?

It seemed impossible, until her eyes managed to spot the umbilical cord in one of their necks. Her heart jumped and her eyes widened.

"Everybody wait." Speaking in low tones, her eyes went from neck to neck, trying to keep her mouth from moving.

Every neck had the same cord attached, but the sand masked the other end. It didn't matter, the information was something.

"See the cord in their neck? It will all lead to one adult Affected, their maker. They aren't done growing yet. Kill him and they will die too." She continued.

A mutter went through their team as she revealed that piece of information.

It was known the makers of Affected existed, but the information on how or who was heavily guarded. She had been a soldier for half of her life though, her clearance was as high as it was going to get. Not just any Affected could make Small Ones and the ones that could were hard to find. She had personally killed six. Together with her partner they had focused on killing the makers, making numerous plans, tracking their movements, and everyone noticed the reducing numbers of Small Ones.

Less Small Ones meant that only the easier to kill Affected remained and theoretically an end to the plague that had affected them for so long.

They had never told anyone about their focus, or at least she hadn't. She didn't trust the people in power with the knowledge that they had managed to find a pattern in the makers movements, and were targeting them. It was in her best interest for this war to stop, so that was what she would do. It was in politicians' best interest to keep the people that provided them with weapons and security happy, which would not happen without the Affected.

"Let's go." She spoke as she started walking forward, letting the sand carry her down.

The rest followed a step behind, letting her go first, but protecting her blind spots. Across from them the Small Ones started running, their cries of sadness making for a weird contrast with the bloodlust they were exuding.

The groups collided.

The battle itself was nothing special. Battle never was. She had hyper focus on everything within 5 metres of her, but everything outside those bounds was left to their own devices.

While she wasn't seeing everything, she heard enough. The shots of her team, the Small Ones screaming, the guns that stopped firing, bodies falling into the sand, and the prayers of the person next to her.

The sun was radiating down on them, flames of the helicopter only making it worse, and sweat was running over her back. Her suit would absorb it and turn it into water, but she couldn't see herself surviving long enough to drink it.

Suddenly her back made connection with her second in command.

"Go!" He screamed, firing at one Small One that kept evading. "Go! Kill the original!"

He fired more shots, before bumping his back into hers. "I have your back!"

She looked at him for only a second, just to recognize the determination in his eyes. She retracted most of her previous statements about him; his leadership abilities may be shit, but he was an okay soldier.

Nodding at him, she broke out in a sprint towards the cords that looked like they came together at the same place in the sand. Her feet kept sinking, but one didn't survive fifteen years in the field without perseverance and loads of muscle.

Behind her she heard shots and shots, until she heard one scream and nothing more. There was no hitch in her step as she took a dive into the sand to where the cords came together.

Putting both her hands around the thick, flesh coloured cord, she pulled. Up it came, with the body of an adult Affected on the other side.

He was large, every one of his veins standing out on his pale body, eyes bloodshot, teeth rotten, and spit flying everywhere. She had seen enough of his kind to not even flinch at his aggressiveness. Out of the corner of her eyes she saw the Small Ones already turning around, reacting to his mental commands.

He waved his arms around manically, but he couldn't focus on killing her. The vulnerability of a maker was that while controlling developing Small Ones he couldn't put all his focus on his own body. The more Small Ones he is forming, the less control he has over himself.

"Arggg!" He kept growling, his hands grabbing at her face.

The nails scratched over her cheek, leaving red lines all over her already scarred face. She barely even felt it.

Her guns lost in the sand in favour of being faster, she had to use the other weapons on her. Pulling the knife off her back she wasted no time trying to talk to it and stabbed up from the chin, pushing until the tip of her blade appeared out of his head. Immediately it stopped struggling and behind her the cries stopped, the body of a Small One falling motionless just behind her.

Breathing heavily, she turned around, pulling her knife out of its head, the blood still dripping off it, and the dead Affected fell to the ground.

It was a wasteland filled with red and for a moment she was convinced it was the natural colour of sand. Her right eye was filling with her own blood, but she didn't care enough to try and stop it. Her face was already covered in scars, what would a few more be?

Stumbling back to the bodies of her crew, she tried to check for any remaining life. Even though she knew the change of survivors was slim, she was still the leader.

She couldn't even see a body that still had all its limbs attached. She fell down on one knee next to the severed head of her second in command, her muscles giving away.

This couldn't be real. Why would they send them here when they only had to kill her? What would they do now that she survived?

"Go away!"

Yelling pulled her out of her musings and she looked up.

Clouds were rising in the distance and she had to narrow her eyes to see through them. There were children, more Small Ones, running, crying, and screaming, all moving towards her.

For fucks sake. Of course there were more.

Heaving herself up, she unsheathed another knife from one of her crew, her own already in her other hand. She had gotten lucky with the first fight, but now she was alone. Taking a deep breath, she gripped her knives tight.

"Get away! Run!"

It seemed some of the Small Ones were still conscious. The corners of her mouth lifted at their concern, but she had nowhere to run. Her ride was on fire.

Slowly they came closer. Faces became distinguishable, and they showed no signs of slowing down. They must have been the ones the maker had already created, waiting for a second wave attack. Eyeing the red sand around her, she came up with a plan. If she was going to die anyway why not try to take as many as she could down with her?

Weeks ago, when she had been spying on researchers, she had heard them speak about the lumps of concentrated potassium and sodium in the blood of Small Ones. They had speculated how it could be used against them and she had taken notes.

"This is it," she mumbled to herself.

Putting her knife over the sweat and water reserve on her suit, her eyes flickered to the closest Small One and the blood. Right when the first few stepped on the red sand, she slit her reserves.

When coming in contact with water potassium and sodium were highly combustible, or at least according to those researchers they were.

"May death be better than this shit." She said, giving the bodies of her comrades one last look.

One explosion and a lot of pain later, she knew it had worked. The shockwave had thrown her across the sand and, what felt like, far away from the original site.

She could feel the heat of the flames on her body, the sand beneath her head, but everything inside of her was starting to go cold. She could distantly hear other explosions go off. It had to be her crew's water reserves also rupturing and coming into contact with the blood.

The small light in this all was that she heard cries of Small Ones being burned. Did she get them all?

Cursing the person that had sent her there was her last action, before everything turned black.


Throughout her life she was convinced death was just like sleeping a dreamless sleep. Waking up and realising she was on some kind of cold, dark rock, had thrown her off for a few seconds.

Laying down on the cold, hard stone, she noted how her body wasn't hurting. Blinking to let her eyes adjust, she just saw a rock beneath her, darkness all around her, and one light shingly brightly in the distance.

She was wearing some kind of grey toga, but the scars on her body were all gone. Touching her face, even the scars there seemed to have vanished.

"What the fuck?" Looking around, her voice echoed in the dark distance.

Was this death? Count her as disappointed. It could at least have been heaven or hell, this was just eternal cold.

Focusing on the only light in the near vicinity, she saw what lay in front of her. Heaving herself up immediately, she didn't take her eyes off the path before her.

There were more rocks, about jumping distance from each other and eventually a path. Behind the path lay a giant mountain and, on top of that mountain, the light source that illuminated her surroundings. There was nothing connected to the rock she was standing on or the one's in front of her. There was just darkness underneath and around it. One wrong move and she would fall in the dark, and who knows what then.

The light source looked like some floating bulb of light. Almost like a star.

She knew instinctively she had to get to that light. Some animalistic instinct told her that was the reason she was there; to touch that light. It was like food for the starving.

Her heart was beating out of her chest, she felt the adrenaline rushing through her body, her pupils dilated, and she accepted the challenge. She would get it, it didn't matter what it would take.

"Here we go." She muttered to herself, judging the distance between the first few rocks.


Time was lost on her, as there was no light except one and she never felt tired or hungry, but after what felt like an eternity, she finally made it. She was sure her right ankle was sprained, three broken fingers, and she had to put her shoulder back in place so many times, she lost feeling in her left arm.

But she made it.

"Made it," she panted, looking up at the star. "Fucker."

Breathing heavily, she stood on the top of the mountain. The temperature remained cold and looking around her, the darkness remained as it always had been.

Everything in her told her that she could touch it now; her prize. But after years and years of learning self-control this wouldn't be her downfall. A small voice in her mind told her she was too suspicious, but she ignored it.

"Now what are you?" She asked, inspecting the light.

Sitting down at the edge of the mountain, she gathered some small stones in her hand and started throwing them at the floating star. It hit and she readied herself for an explosion. Nothing happened, but the light turned a red colour for a second, before going back to white.

She kept throwing and the rocks kept bouncing off, the light switching between red and white.

"Red. Red. Red." She frowned. Every rock she threw just made the light turn red.

Every time the light turned red the feeling to touch it intensified and she was fighting all her basic instincts. It was like being thirsty with water right in front of you, exhausted sitting across from a bed, starving with a meal just right there. But she held on.

It went like this for some time, until she was practically being dragged on the rocky ground, some imaginary force literally pulling her to the light. Digging her feet and her nails in the ground, she refused to be ordered around by something she couldn't even see.

"I am not giving in!" Yelling out into the darkness, she felt her broken fingers screaming out in pain, her nails being ripped off.

Clearly it was the wrong thing to say, because before she knew it there was this giant figure on the mountain standing behind the light.

Her heart jumped in her throat.

The figure was around seven feet tall, dressed in a giant ragged black sheet with a hood. Objectively this shouldn't have been the scariest thing she had ever seen, but her mind and body clearly weren't thinking the same. It felt like she was having a heart attack and liquid was dripping down her face. Was she crying?

"Me vexat pede." The figure spoke, their voice deep and raspy.

She just looked at it in silence. Was that Latin? Either way it was a language she did not speak.

Who spoke that language? She had been educated by the military, she only spoke English and some curse words in other languages she had learned from her fellow soldiers. Those thoughts made her mind clear up a bit, even though her body had gone from crying, to bleeding from her nose.

Licking the blood of her lips she went over her symptoms in her head. They weren't looking very promising.

"Ex nihilo nihil fit." The figure continued, standing tall and unmoving.

She didn't understand anything the figure was saying, but she didn't care anymore. This figure seemed like the reason she was there and she was about to do something really stupid.

Grabbing her last rock, which was round and flat, she removed her hands and heels from the mountain, letting the force take a hold of her, drag her upright, and yank her towards the star.

The figure stood tall, but had stopped talking. The opening in the hood moved, following her position, watching her being pulled towards the light.

Using the force's momentum, she stretched out her hand with the rock, and by yet another miracle - which she was clearly the only reason she was still alive - the light was perfectly centred in the middle of the rock. The force almost immediately stopped pushing her the moment the light moved, the rock pushing it forward, but Newton's first law still counted, even in this hell.

Sprinting with her momentum in place, she pushed the light toward the cloaked figure. It clearly wasn't expecting this and it moved its cloaked arm upward to reach for her. The cloak slipped away around the arm and revealed a clean white skeletal hand, stretched out in her direction. If it was going to stop her or strangle her, she didn't know.

At the sight of the hand she felt some kind of fluid filling her lungs. It tasted like more blood.

It didn't matter though, the moment the skeletal hand came into contact with the light everything around her imploded. It wasn't the reaction she was hoping for, but she didn't know what she had been hoping for. She just didn't want to follow any more orders, even in death.

Everything around her became black and she closed her eyes, waiting for thoughtless darkness, but her consciousness stayed and suddenly there was water forcing its way into her nose and mouth.

Spluttering, she tried to remove the water from her airway.

Why wasn't she losing consciousness? If she was drowning, why wasn't she already dead?

Everything started to hurt, but even while her body ached and water surrounded her, she remained aware of what was happening to her body. She had to stop breathing in the hope the water would just as quickly disappear as it had appeared.

It didn't, but luckily her consciousness eventually did.