“Crashed” Part 14
She had put enough distance between herself and the humans to risk stillness.
The forest thinned here. Old growth. Rotting wood. She lowered herself onto a fallen log, its structure failing beneath her weight but holding long enough. Long enough to try.
She reached inward—toward the quiet signal. Toward the one that answered her thoughts with warmth instead of noise.
Nothing.
She did not want this outcome. Had never intended it.
Erasing humans was not the purpose. Never the directive.
But they would not stop.
Had they truly seen her? Even with the cloak active?
Or had chance aligned with instinct, weapons raised at the exact wrong moment?
The answer did not matter.
They had sensed her.
She began to initiate the suit’s diagnostic cycle—
And then the sound came.
Sharp. Violent. Animal.
Dogs.
The signal pattern fractured. The woods filled with motion again. No time. No margin. No recovery.
She rose in one smooth movement, abandoning the log, abandoning stillness.
Separation was now the only objective.
Avoid contact. Avoid pursuit. Avoid escalation.
She turned deeper into the forest and ran.
With the suit mapping every step, she found herself questioning the data it returned.
The cloak had been active. Fully engaged.
Yet the humans had fired with precision.
That troubled her.
The material could withstand force beyond human norms—but it was not designed for sustained projectile impact. The memory replayed itself again and again, the suit logging angles, timing, trajectories.
Two direct strikes. No more.
Luck was not a strategy.
What had breached her concealment?
Had they truly seen her… or had they sensed something else?
The answer eluded her.
She needed the one called Patty.
This state could not be sustained. The suit would degrade. Her margin would collapse. And without recalibration, she would be forced to erase again.
The sound returned—closer now.
Dogs.
Their movement patterns were erratic, their sensory range superior to the humans. They were maintaining distance for now, but only barely.
To preserve separation, the animals would have to be removed from the equation.
She hesitated.
Then accepted the conclusion.
Yes.
The animals must be erased.
Topography data streamed across her awareness.
Elevation. Cover. Thermal variance.
The suit integrated her thoughts seamlessly now — mapping every step, every possible route of pursuit. She located the proximity of the hunting party and began scanning for a suitable terrain break… a place where she could lure the threat and control the engagement.
Arch light—energize. Stand by.
Power levels rose, but doubt followed.
The output readings felt… imprecise. The suit had not been recalibrated since impact. Worse, the light of this world — harsh, unstable, nothing like Orellan — might not be providing sufficient charge.
Or perhaps the fault was hers.
Either way, hesitation was no longer an option.
She would have to trust the suit.
Through it all, the truth remained unchanged — there were only limited choices left.
“Patty’s voice cut through the cab, sharp with unease, just as Ken turned the truck back toward the hotel.
“Did you hear that?” she asked quietly.
Ken slowed.
Distant. Faint.
Gunfire.
It came from the woods.