THERMOGRAPHIC DETECTION REPORT

WARNING: UNAUTHORIZED PERSON(S) DETECTED IN SECTOR SEVEN…

There hadn't been reports of any persons, authorized or unauthorized, in any secure sector for over eighteen months now–whoever had survived, beyond the exclusion zones, must've perished a long time ago. For that reason, our team leader Carrington told Bryant and I to drive out there and investigate.

'You've both had your monthly immunizations,' he said. 'You both know the secure sectors well. Travel along the perimetre. Check all security systems are fully operational. We don't want another Yellow Sector meltdown now, do we?'

Once down in the docking bay, I asked Bryant about the incident Carrington had referenced.

'The Yellow Sector meltdown, you mean?' He looked up from checking his portable oxygen supply. 'You've never been briefed on what happened out there?'

I shook my head.

'Well, 'bout three years ago, they received a similar thermographic report–much clearer and stronger than anything they'd ever received before. Only they chose to ignore it. Years had passed since any hostile forces had been active in the region, so they thought it was no more than a computer error. Within half an hour, the secure unit was overwhelmed by rogue elements. Internal sensors showed that contamination had already reached a critical level. Facing certain death, they did the only honourable and pragmatic thing–they set timed explosives and blew up the entire compound.'

'What? So they–they all died?–they committed suicide?'

'That's right,' said Bryant, '–each and every one of 'em. It was either that or risk contracting the mutated form of the virus. And we both know what that means.'

ACCESS RECORDS: YELLOW SECTOR MELTDOWN REPORT…INFORMATION DISCLOSED INACCURATE…RECORDS SHOW THAT OPERATIVE AT ONLY OTHER SURVIVING COMPOUND IN REGION SUFFERED FROM DELAYED MUTATION SICKNESS…OPERATIVE WENT ON A RAMPAGE KILLING ALL COLLEAGUES…STATUS OF YELLOW SECTOR COMPOUND: STILL UNKNOWN…

I crouched, switched on my handheld monitoring device, and took a reading. The air quality here was so bad no life form could survive for more than a few hours without advanced breathing apparatus. I lifted my head and looked out over the scorched earth beyond the towering electrified fence, at the flat, barren, unfathomable stretch of desert land.

'Come on,' Bryant shouted. 'Let's get up to Sector Seven before this wind whips up another dust storm.'

We drove slowly along the perimetre, inspecting each section of fencing, stopping every now and then to reconnoiter the surrounding area, check for readings, any anomaly that may indicate a security breach.

As we entered Sector Seven, Bryant suddenly hit the brakes, jolting us both forward.

'What's that?' He pointed up ahead. 'I saw something move out there, Dillon. I swear I did.'

We both got out of the vehicle. Light was now fading fast; the sun no more than a dark orangey blur smeared across the horizon. To further complicate matters, the wind had strengthened considerably, creating a sandstorm effect, rendering visibility difficult. Still, I could just about make out movement, a shape, cowering in the shadows.

Bryant took his radio out.

'Come in, base…reconnaissance report from Alpha One….just sighted unknown life form in Sector Seven….about to check it out.'

We advanced, our weapons and flashlights trained on the unidentified shape huddled down by a fencepost. The closer we got, the more it appeared to be human, a child dressed in rags, movement imperceptible–most probably dead.

'Easy now, Dillon,' said Bryant, as we closed in. 'Set for stun. Looks like a kid. But how'd it get inside the secure zones? How'd it survive so long?'

Bryant crouched by the raggedy human form, and carefully turned the child over onto its back.

'My God!' He recoiled, stumbling backwards, falling flat on his backside.

'What the–!' I too reeled away, almost dropping my weapon. For the child, this subverted form of humanity, whatever it was, was hideously deformed–head shrunken, skin a pale greenish colour, it had one eye in the centre of its forehead, two mouths packed with fearsome teeth, a tail, two muscular legs, four arms, with sharp talon-like nails growing from each stubby finger and toe. By its side lay a tatty leather-bound book, like a journal of some kind.

Another wild gust of wind whipped up another violent, rustling swathe of sand.

'What the hell is it?' said Bryant. Up on his knees now, he shuffled across the ground, closer to the mutant. As he reached out again, the child jerked into life, lunging forward, sinking both sets of teeth into his forearm.

'Ahhhhhh!' he screamed, shaking his arm, trying to free himself.

In the frenzied moments that followed, I shot the hissing, demented creature in the back. Only my stun discharge didn't have much of an effect. It kept its jaws clamped down on Bryant's forearm. It took a second and third charge to finally immobilize it.

'Christ!' Bryant forced the mutant's jaws open, releasing his arm, revealing a deep wound, dripping with dark-red blood.

'I better dress that right away.' I ran to the transporter, grabbed the medical supplies, and dashed back over.

By the time I returned, Bryant had gone into shock, his body subject to violent spasms. Phlegm frothed at the sides of his mouth, clouding his oxygen mask. Carefully, I lowered him into the recovery position, just so he wouldn't swallow his tongue, and hurriedly dressed the wound, in an attempt to stem the severe blood loss.

The radio crackled into life.

'Headquarters calling Alpha One,' said Carrington. 'What's going on out there? You found anything?'

'Alpha One reporting, sir,' I replied. 'Found hostile element in Sector Seven, what appears to be a mutant child, very aggressive but now subdued. Man down with serious injury to arm. I'm bringing them both back to the compound.'