Burden of Sisyphus Read Free

remaining supplies and ran toward the distant plateau.
     
                At the top of the hill near the wall, the eight-foot, furry Oterian huffed loudly, as he looked over his shoulder.   Behind him, a smaller, deeply tanned man stood, absently spinning a curved hand ax through the air.   The man’s golden hair was pulled back from his face in a ponytail.   On either side of his face, tracing his strong jawline, red and white tattoos swirled across his skin.
                “Ready?” Tusque rumbled.
                “Always,” Eza Riddell replied, before sprinting beside the Oterian across the red sand toward the towering vehicle entrance doors.
                Tusque, who began running shortly before Eza, moved like a locomotive.   Though he wasn’t nearly as fast as Eza, his powerful strides built up great momentum, as he charged the outpost.   His breath coming in deep huffs, Tusque lowered his head, as he moved toward the metallic alloy door.
                When he crashed into it, it resounded like a thunderclap.   The vehicle entrance exploded inward, scattering the Terran guards posted inside.
                As the first Terran regained his footing, a smaller form tumbled through the destroyed archway.   Rolling to his feet, Eza slashed to the side with his curved ax.   The blade bit deep into the Terran’s hamstrings, severing both muscles, as red blood mixed with the colored sand.   Before the soldier fell, Eza pulled out his pistol and shot the next-closest Terran.   The round struck his abdomen, eviscerating him.   Clutching intestines that threatened to spill to the ground, he collapsed onto his back.
                Eza swung down his ax, splitting the hamstrung Terran’s skull and spilling chunks of gray matter to the ground.
                Tusque lifted one of the fallen Terrans in his massive hands, tossing him into a wall.   His body crumpled upon impact, and, flopping involuntarily as he fell, he collapsed to the ground.   The fourth soldier climbed to his feet and fired, the bullet catching the Oterian’s shoulder.  
                Tusque looked at the deep gunshot wound, letting thick, black blood seep, and growled deeply.   He swung his huge fist backhand, catching the surprised Terran on the side of the face.   His head twisted awkwardly over his shoulder with a sickening snap from the base of his neck.   He fell limply to the ground.
                Eza cleared his throat to get Tusque’s attention.   His arms covered in blood, he pointed into the open-air courtyard beyond the narrow overhang, where Terran soldiers moved into position behind quickly erected barricades.   Staring down dozens of gun barrels, Tusque smiled and pointed skyward.
                A faint, birdlike shadow spread over the Terran soldiers, as Ainj glided over the defensive wall and began dropping high explosives from the bandoleer around his chest.
                The makeshift bunkers turned into pillars of blazing infernos, as the explosives rocked the compound.   Dusty red sand melted in the heat, turning to glass.   Terran soldiers collapsed into the molten sand, their bodies consumed by the fire and shredded from shrapnel.   Within both buildings, lights flickered, as the generator struggled against the barrage of concussive blasts.
                As the fires slowly died, seven figures emerged from the smoky remains of soldiers and barricades.   In the center, the red-robed man called them to halt before the main outpost doors.   Though the building’s façade was damaged by Ainj’s explosive barrage, the sturdy doors held.
                “Tusque,” the heavily robed man said, “please open the doors for us.   Everyone else, expect resistance once we’re inside.   Remember our priority—recover the data disk.   Get it, get out, and then we’ll take care of