Write to Rank 2023

Round 7 - Other Bones

Everything would be okay because Clay, the undefeatable old roach, was here.

Bone nodded curtly. "Got it."

There was a small ridge at the neck, which he'd noticed earlier, so he leaned in and firmly ran his fingers along it. Something gave. A faint click and hiss, and a gap opened up.

"Huh. That was easy."

"Careful, kid."

"Always am," Bone returned. Very carefully, he eased the helmet off.

When the Other's face was revealed, both men stared.

"Huh." Bone set the helmet aside, his gaze fixated on the Other. "That's... kind of disturbing."

Clay grunted. He too, looked both fascinated and repulsed. "I'll say."

The Other's skin was a deep, unnatural gray-blue. A weird, silky sheen coated the flesh, giving it an artificial look. Apart from that, however, the features were completely normal for a human male.

"Maybe it is a machine," Bone suggested. "Like everything else they send after us."

"Maybe so. But why does it have to look like us? That's the creepy part. We know they came from off planet, so they're clearly alien."

What if they do look like us? Bone thought, but he kept that to himself. It wasn't something that Clay would want to hear. The old roach was traditional and fiercely opposed to anything Other. He lived to destroy them and fought to protect the few who still survived.

"I need to see what's inside this thing," Clay decided. He passed the rifle to Bone, then drew out his hunting knife.

Like Clay had done earlier, Bone lifted the heavy rifle to a shoulder and readied himself to fire. Just to be safe.

He watched as Clay set the blade's edge to the Other's bare neck. Sharpened carbon steel split the dark blue skin like it was paper. There was no blood. No water, no oil, no fluid of any kind. Just strange gray flesh split open like a fruit.

"What?" Clay frowned. And then his eyes widened. "Akari'sh!"

He immediately rose, only for his legs to give out beneath him. He crumpled back to the ground with a startled gasp.

"Clay!" Bone hurried forward to help, but stopped dead when Clay thrust out a hand.

"No! Don't! Something's–"

His words cut off like they'd been severed by a knife. Eyes bulging, his mouth moved as he tried to speak. No sound came out.

The Other's corpse hissed.

Bone's eyes darted to it. From the gash of its neck came a gray, silver fog. It billowed out like the exhaust from a ship, rolling and curling into itself even as it expanded outward.

Ice crept down Bone's spine. He knew that fog. He'd seen it once before. It had swept throughout the ravine and swallowed every living thing in its way. Bones were the only thing left in its wake.

And so had been Bone himself. He'd awakened in a pile of the dead, staring at the writhing mass of deadly fog as it drifted away from him. That was the earliest thing he remembered, and soon after Clay had found him wandering the ravine, dazed and naked and lost. He'd never told anyone about it, because he was certain that he should be dead.

Clay knew what it was, too. He opened his mouth wide in a scream as the first wisp of silver brushed across his cheek. Flesh evaporated at its touch, leaving a fleshy, bloody pit in the side of his face. At a second brush, the blood burst into fine pink mist, and Bone saw the pure ivory of bone.