[ WP ] Secure your own mask first before helping others .

`` Everyone stand back,'' the operator said to the mass of bodies standing at the access door. 
 
 `` Let us out!'' 
 
 `` We've been waiting for hours!'' 
 
 The rabble of my fellow crewmen drummed within my ears. Lawrence pushed by the crowd to stand at my side. His hair flowed as he halted his momentum, lighting up a cigarette with a huff. 
 
 `` Crazy shit, ai n't it, Reggie?'' He puffed on the filter. `` Man, I do n't get why their taking forever. The radiation has subsided, the dust... What the fuck?'' 
 
 I stared at the door. `` The dust is n't the problem.'' 
 
 `` So what is?'' Lawrence looked around the sea of heads, trying to catch a glimpse of the operator. 
 
 `` Whatever is out there needs kill confirmation. And the operator does n't have confirmation. Not even a sighting since the last quake.'' 
 
 `` That was hours ago,'' Lawrence said with a brush of his hair. `` How long does it take to find something that fucking huge?'' 
 
 `` The dust has n't cleared. Visibility is probably --'' 
 
 A roar muffled through the steel barracks, followed by a hiss of the operator's walkie-talkie. He nodded. 
 
 `` Everyone,'' the operator finally called out, `` listen up! We got confirmation of a kill.'' 
 
 The barracks cheered. I did n't. Not until I saw the fucker's corpse. 
 
 `` Now, we need all of you to file out to the LZ. Right now.'' 
 
 `` Where is it?'' Lawrence yelled to the operator. 
 
 `` Past the Behemoth. We'll have to traverse around it.'' 
 
 `` Fuck,'' Lawrence muttered, dragging at his cigarette. 
 
 `` Let's go,'' I patted his back. 
 
 The barracks filed out, as ordered. Women and children followed suit, lagging cautiously behind. This evacuation was the last chance, and yet the marines were no where to be seen. It was all civilians. And one operator. 
 
 `` When you reach the gate,'' the operator said, `` secure your own mask before helping others.'' 
 
 `` You got yours?'' Lawrence said. 
 
 I held my mask out in front of him. Lawrence nodded with a smile, `` Good shit.'' 
 
 We stepped to the gate, strapped the mask's rubber clamps to our skulls, and left. 
 
 Outside was a yellow mist of sand, rubble, and sunlight. The Behemoths could only come out during the day, which made the evacuation even more risky. But this desert planet was ruthlessly cold once the sun set behind those dunes, meaning we would freeze the moment we set foot outside the barracks into that brutal chill. I once saw a man, frost bitten to his brow, lying in the sand after spending an entire day walking back from a failed expedition. He made it to the gate before the sun set, but the cold got to him. Daytime evac was the only solution. No matter how many people died. 
 
 Flurries of sand scratched my mask's eye shield, my skin pierced by each grain like a needle. I could hear Lawrence wincing as he dealt with the pain, until we walked by it. The Behemoth. It's jaws were spread open, its black eyes staring into the yellow mist as marines attempted to crack open its hide to find it's softer layer, to prepare for emergency shelter purposes. This Behemoth was a mile long, his hide camouflaged against the dunes he laid upon. We walked past the hole he burst from. Lawrence hit my arm as he saw the abysmal trench. 
 
 `` That explains the wait,'' he said, trying to speak over the frustratingly loud howl of the wind. 
 
 After passing the Behemoth's tail, the mist began to thicken, narrowing my field of vision to a mere five feet. I held my mask against my face. The landing zone had to be close. I was optimistic, until I heard the flapping. 
 
 `` Harpy!'' 
 
 Above the dead Behemoth flew another, blurred by the yellow mist, flapping its wings and spotting its prey. With a dive to the dunes it snatched a dozen men in its beak. Lawrence tugged at my sleeve, running the LZ with the rest of the crowd. Bullets shot past me, cutting through the mist and leaving trails of clear air, only for the gap to be sealed by the sand whizzing by. My mask clacked against my my face, breaking my nose, but I kept running. The Harpy dived again, snagging the three men in front of me, its beak dripping blood as it ascended. 
 
 I saw the operator before me, beckoning his arm towards the dropship behind him. I climbed aboard behind Lawrence, gripping the hand holds on the side of the interior. With my eyes gaping wide, I stared at the line of people, the Harpy cutting it apart like scissors snipping a thread. By the time the dropship took off, we had fifty aboard. Not even half. 
 
 The jet engines purred as we shuttled up, leaving the Harpy to feed on the others left behind. The operator used them as a distraction. The women. The children. Just distractions. 
 
 He sat down, taking his mask off with a sigh, which had left his face clean from the rest of his yellowed body. 
 
 `` Captain,'' the operator said, `` take us to the outpost.'' He rubbed the sand from his neck. `` Get us away from this place.'' 
 
 
 
 

