Hausen lay flat on his stomach beside Felicia and watched the Vandal work at the machine. He had made his way here with the younger woman as dawn's first rays had started to ease away night's dominion over the world. The camp they had found had been a good kilometre from the road in a slight depression that hid it from anything not actively searching for it. It was slight, a mobile set-up of two small canvas covered areas, a surrounding barricade and a small cylindrical machine standing on tripod legs. An antenna rose from the centre of the device and told of its communication purpose. The alien had been working on it for a while now, twisting, pulling and turning various components. The more it worked, the more nervous Hausen became. The past few days had been the most restful he could ever remember. Few patrols had been sighted and those that did come close to them had appeared lack lustre and preoccupied. It had given them all a chance to unwind and recent tension to dissipate. Given the reduced patrol numbers and the dead Dreg that Felicia had found, Hausen could only assume the Vandal was either calling for assistance or raising an alarm. He definitely did not want either to happen. The remains of a small settlement could be seen in the distance from where they currently rested, but between it and them was a lot of mostly open space. If more Fallen came they would be found, they would have to run and they would be slaughtered. "I could take it out". It was the third time Felicia had made the comment. "Not yet", Hausen replied just as he had the previous times. He was starting to reconsider though. The Fallen could deploy frighteningly fast, he had experienced it first hand. If that happened now he and Felicia did not stand a chance. One shot could prevent it. However, if others came looking and found a Vandal dead by gunshot they would know that they were not alone and would flood the area, not stopping until they had eradicated the humans. A low mechanical hum suddenly broke the silence. The machine's antenna glowed a subdued orange and stretched a foot further into the air. If the Vandal brought reinforcements or if its body were found. "Come on!" Felicia hissed. "Do it". The sharp crack of the rifle shot made Hausen involuntarily flinch, but his eyes never left the alien. He watched as it jerked violently, a thin grey plume bursting from the bullet hole in its helmet and then it dropped lifeless to the ground. The two figures lay motionless as the echoes of the single shot dwindled, leaving the spitting static of the communications device as the only sound. After a moment, the antenna retracted, dimmed and there was only silence. "Do you think it got through?" Hausen shook his head. "I don't know. Let's hope not". It relished cutting her apart. Slash, the blade opened to the bone the forearm that she had flung across her face to protect herself. Slash, it ripped open the front of her already torn jacket and sprayed blood across the floor and wall. Slash, her cheek split apart. Slash, blood dripped from her back. Slash. Slash. Slash. Slash and all the while the shanks hovered and watched with their engines whining and filling his ears. Hausen jerked from sleep with the horrors of his memories still brutally fresh. Gasping, heart pounding, sweat beading he pulled himself upright and tried to understand where he was. It was always like this. He could go for weeks without reliving that night, but eventually it returned. Again and again he had to watch his wife die. In total darkness he waited for calm. Slowly, first with his heart and then with his head, the tightness and terror eased away. He rubbed his brow, fingers hard and forcibly pushing himself away from sleep. He could never rest after this. Discarding the dirty rag that served as his blanket, Hausen picked up his rifle and opened the locker door, carefully closing it behind him. It made the barest of noises, so thick had been the grease someone had applied when there was still time and inclination to do such things. It was cold. The locker trapped the heat when they slept. He shivered and walked to the serving hatch. Jaspiel's dead body lay slumped back against his chair, a shock knife embedded in his skull. Hausen dropped to a crouch, rifle up and fingers on its trigger. Still. Still and small. He willed himself to be still and small. Nothing moved, no sound came to his ears. Carefully he eased himself forward until he was beside Jaspiel's dead body. Eyes wide, mouth gaping open, he was still clutching his rifle. It had happened fast. Slowly Hausen rose and peered over the edge of the hatch. It was dark outside, no moonlight to see by. He took in everything, wreckage, rubble, open ground and waited for something to show itself. Then he heard the whine. The whine from his nightmares. The Shanks bobbed slightly up and down as they moved through the car park, weaving around vehicles as they stealthily approached. Where is the Dreg? He had never seen a Vandal carry a shock knife and Shanks certainly did not use them, only Dregs seemed to favour the minor blade. At least one was out there somewhere. And so was Mattaus. Ever since the incident with Felicia he had grown increasingly withdrawn. If he was not sleeping he was keeping watch and he would do so alone and for a long time. Hausen had almost spoken to him about it, the group had rules and established protocols that maintained order and sensibility, but Mirim had talked him out of it. She had been right of course, both Mattaus and Felicia had needed their space to process what had happened. That did not help now though. Hausen did not know where the younger man was and could not warn him. The Shanks moved closer. They were coming directly for their hideout. Cursing under his breath, Hausen withdrew from the hatch and rushed back to the locker. He opened it quietly and pulled the door wide to see inside. Felicia moaned in her sleep, disturbed by the light. Mirim had a gun aimed at his head. Blinking sleep away, she lowed her weapon. "What's going on?" "They found us. Jaspiel's dead. We have to move. Now". Mirim stared at him. "Jaspiel's dead?" "We have to move NOW!" he hissed. Felicia struggled to sit up, woken by the noise. "Wha..." Hausen turned away too anxious to explain again and rushed to the hatch. They were almost here, he could hear the hiss of gas from each machine as they levitated over the inner perimeter. A muffled gasp turned his head and he saw Felicia holding a hand to her mouth as she stared at Jaspiel's body. Mirim leaned close and spoke quietly to her. After a moment she nodded and determinedly looked away. Both the women scrambled on their hands and knees from the locker to him, eyes wide and breathing heavily. Mirim gestured to the hatch. "How many?" "Four shanks, maybe more. There must be a Dreg too" he said gesturing at Jaspiel's body. Mirim glanced at it, Felicia did not. The fire door creaked as it began to open, claws appearing around the door edge.