[ CW ] Write yourself into a corner .

They stomped through the troughs and hills of plowed dirt, blood-soaked soil sucking at their heels. New sprouts, painted red by the rain, stretched their stems to the sky, like thousands of leafy hands reaching out to pull them under. 
 
 Father clamped Amber's arm in an iron grip, lifting her up whenever her boots sunk too deep into the mud. 
 
 `` Where are we going?'' she shouted above the rain. Rain pounded on her head, and her heart beat in her ears. 
 
 Father slung the rifle over his shoulder, and turned to her. He opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by a sound from above. 
 
 There was a screaming in the sky, like a massive bird bearing down on it's prey. A ball of fire tumbled toward the Earth, and disappeared behind the hill they had just come from. A moment later the Earth vomited up dirt and flames. 
 
 Father yanked on her arm so hard she thought it would pop out. She yelped in pain, but Father did not stop. 
 
 The sky strobed with light. Streaking spears slammed into dark shapes that seemed to be stuck in the sky, like clouds pregnant with rain. Every now and then, she would look up to see another dark shape dislodge itself from the heavens and fall to the Earth. 
 
 Tears carved streams through the blood that caked on her face; blood that was not hers. 
 
 They ran for what felt like hours, though the moon hardly moved. Amber stumbled more than once, and after she fell for the first time, Father lifted her onto his back, and told her to hang on. 
 
 `` Father, where are we going? The village is the other way.'' 
 
 Father shook his head, `` We're not going that way, sweet girl.'' 
 
 `` Why not?'' 
 
 Her eyelids were drooping, and she nuzzled her head in the crook of his neck, letting the steady bounce of his stride soothe her. 
 
 `` Too far. We'll make the journey when... when this stops. We're going to the Caves first.'' 
 
 She struggled to speak through a yawn, `` Who are they, Father?'' 
 
 If he answered, she did not hear. Amber, with her hair plastered by the blood of those above, was asleep. 
 
 When she woke, she could not see. Her Father's arms were around her, squeezing her tight. By the steady rise and fall of his chest, she could tell he was sleeping. It was still a struggle to escape from his embrace. 
 
 She stood up, disoriented in the darkness. Her face was stiff with dried blood. A ball of emotion threatened to crawl up her throat, but she swallowed it. Mother had always chided her for being too emotional. 
 
 Amber turned around, and was greeted by a dark blue sky, half-swallowed by the mouth of the cave. There were stars above. There were two shambling shapes below. 
 
 People. They were dragging a third person by the arms. 
 
 Amber almost called out to them, until she noticed their eyes: they were *glowing*. A thought raced through her mind: *Not human. * 
 
 Before she could duck back into the cave, she heard one of them shout. Amber scampered back into the recesses of the cave, and kneeled over her Father's sleeping form. 
 
 `` Father,'' she shook him, `` Father, wake up.'' 
 
 `` Huh...'' 
 
 `` Father, it's *them*,'' her voice was a hoarse whisper, `` They're here!'' 
 
 His eyes opened slowly. Then closed. Then snapped open. He sat up, fumbled around for his rifle, and clicked open its barrel. 
 
 `` Do n't move,'' a voice said from the entrance of the cave. 
 
 A woman, with hair like clay made from pure silver, blocked the starlight. 
 
 Father lifted the rifle, and pulled the trigger. There was an ear-shattering *bang, * and the woman doubled over with a grunt. She stumbled back, cupping her hands over where the bullet had landed. When she pulled her hands away, there was no blood. 
 
 The woman set her glowing eyes on Father, and grinned. 
 
 She spoke in a voice as pure as a mountain stream, `` They forget to update your parts? Too bad.'' 
 
 Behind her, a man with a voice as pure as hers spoke up, `` Who are they?'' 
 
 `` I do n't recognize them. They do n't look like they're from Epsilon's birthing tanks, either,'' the woman's eyes flashed red, `` They have to be cyborg.'' 
 
 The man sidled up next to the woman, a vicious looking firearm held tight to his chest. 
 
 `` They look like us, though. Are the metal-heads making soft skins again?'' he asked. 
 
 The woman's grin broadened, `` Let's cut them open and find out.'' 
 
 *** 
 
 [ < Part 1 is here ] ( https: //www.reddit.com/r/PSHoffman/comments/42swcz/those_who_forgot_and_those_who_were_forgotten/ )
