[Gallagher]

Heat raced toward its daily goal beneath a vicious sun, the toxic state of the world evident in every clump of dirt and rot and stone, every sear of wind. Neither beast nor bird nor buzzing bite could be heard. Unnatural. Unimportant. It was already forgotten. Crouched low to the ground, an unkempt man raked his fingers through the soil, hunks of it swallowed down or tossed aside without care. Hunger nagged, but this would hold it for a time. Time enough to find something worth enjoying.

The moaning of his innards quieted, he stood, the dull land scanned by even duller eyes. A structure loomed in the distance, yet there were no swarming somethings, or any signs they might be hidden. Strange, though he knew the beasts and somethings rarely strayed near, that they would leave such a place so silent. Or had they all already been killed? Bodies left there to be picked off or go to waste? There were no marks of the bottom feeders, but perhaps that just meant more left to be claimed. More of the somethings than bones or ruins.

He could only hope.

The sun had hardly moved when he drew near the structure, more certain than ever of its abandonment. He took a moment to look upon its entrance, a darkened cave that should have swarmed with those small, cowardly things. But all remained still. He headed inside.

Yet inside was not where he ended up. He turned, but there was no entry behind him, and turned again, where sure enough the somethings he'd been expecting filled the grounds. They were small and strange, though, not like the ones he'd seen in the past, and certainly not as young should appear. The air was tainted by their rot, yet they neither seemed to perish nor to attack. Hesitant, curious, he took a step, then another, but still they didn't move.

So, he did. Unbothered by the horrors of the scene, the man walked through the masses like they were little more than a maze, his path twisting whenever another another child's form drew his attention. Inch by inch, corpse by corpse, he made his way back to the hollow that had brought him here.

Knelt beside one of the damaged young, he tugged at its disjointed intestine when the cavity of its body was illuminated by a sudden light, cast from somewhere behind him. He looked up at the child's face, immune to anything but its own pain, then back over his shoulder.

Fire. Everywhere.

The organ slipping from his grasp, he stood and turned to watch.