Cargo

Avocado

Miĉjo looks at me. "He's nobody. Just a stupid cajero."

"Where's my truck?" I demand.

"I don't fucking know," she snaps at me, then looks at Miĉjo. "You need a hospital."

Miĉjo sits on the banana chair, unable to tolerate standing anymore. "Keys, cajero." He states, waving his good arm.

"Can I borrow a phone so I can call my truck?"

In one swift move, Amelia pillages her handbag and draws a handgun, pointing it at me. "Keys, fikulo."

"My truck is way safer than the pickup," I insist. "That thing will rip that SUV apart. You at least stand a chance with the Cyberstar."

Miĉjo's face drops its stern expression. "Where's your phone, babe?"

At first, Amelia resists the idea, but relents. She picks up her bag and tosses it at me, then turns her attention to Miĉjo. I ransack its contents and find her slimline, screenless device. I turn around and speak into it. "Connect me to Cyberstarnet, please."

"Please state the account name," asks the over-friendly voice.

"Avocado Twenty, DCM," I state.

"Connected!"

"Avocado?" I yell, hoping the Cyberstar coreframe hasn't been hacked. "What happened to you?"

"I have activated security protocol number five."

I understand immediately. Those cajeros attempted to break into the Cyberstar, triggering the anti-theft system. This prompts the artificial intelligence into evasive manoeuvres and instructs it to roam on autopilot until further commands are sanctioned. "Where the hell are you?"

"I am two kilometres from Villa 1, Black Mountain heading for the motorway."

"Turn around and come get me," I command.

"Authentication required."

"Authenticate Voice."

"Voice authentication failed.

The dread in my belly begins eating away at my organs. "Face authenticate."

"Your device is incompatible."

"Then get back here and authenticate me in person..." I feel a high-pitched vibration against the skin of my back. When it becomes audible, I slowly turn around, and in my peripheral vision, see a blur zing across the swimming pool. There is no Miĉjo or Amelia at the banana chair, just a slattering of blood on the white plastic. A cloud of crimson swirls in the pool, the water now a deep red under the burning sun.

As if on cue, a hot wind creeps across the compound, stirring up an orange duststorm. My heart races as I take flight towards the front of the villa, anticipating that at any moment I could be confronted by the sight of the creature.

The Zarathun.

I sense its presence, its malevolence, seeping into the very fabric of my surroundings, the garden of cacti and desert flora, slowly fading under the sandstorm. I trip over the serpentine statue, almost giving me a heart attack. For some insane reason, my instinct is to pick it up and huddle it under my arm.

The oscillating noise zings somewhere above me, my eyes pinpointing it coming for the rooftop.

It's stalking me.

Adrenaline surges through my veins as I retreat from the villa, the creature's existence like a looming spectre. The desert seems to close in around me, every corner of the villa holding the promise of danger.