text: Madeline froze. Her muscles tensed as she scanned the room for the speaker. "Sorry," she said, voice croaky from lack of use. "I didn't realise someone was here." A scuffling sound drew her attention, head whipping around to land on a figure in the corner, half-hidden by the darkness. She took a slow, deliberate step towards them. Then another. When they made no sudden movements in response, she edged further into the shadows. As she approached, she began to realise how small they must be - too small. "I s-said you shouldn't be here!" And that voice. The quivering uncertainty. The high pitch. As her eyes adjusted to the dark, the figure in front of her resolved into a child no older than twelve or thirteen - dirty clothes hanging off his small body and wild eyes staring out of a gaunt face. Her heart wrenched at the thought of what those eyes must have seen. A small, long-buried part of her yearned to reach out and fold the boy into a hug, whisper to him that everything would be alright, that she was here now, that she would help. But she’d learnt to fear more than just the Poiloogs over the last few years. Maintaining a wary distance, she crouched down to his level, holding up her hands with palms open. "It's alright, I won't hurt you." "I wouldn't let you." "Good.” She couldn’t help but smile at the boy’s confidence. “It's good to be able to look after yourself. Are you here all alone?" The boy frowned, fixing Madeline with a calculating look before giving a slow, deliberate nod. "How long have you been here?" "A while." "And you’ve been alone all that time?" He turned away sharply. Madeline followed his gaze, muscles coiling ready for someone to spring from the shadows. But there was nobody there. A sniffle drew her attention back to the boy, and she realised there had never been anything to look at. Just a child trying to hide his vulnerability in an impossibly tough world. Again she felt the urge to reach out and comfort him. But then what? Take him with her? Look after him? Surviving was hard enough on her own, let alone with someone else to care for. A small pit of self-loathing flared open in her stomach. But it was easily ignored, buried deep with other emotions that weren’t necessary anymore. She’d had plenty of practice - after all, you didn’t survive this long by being sentimental. “Well, I can see that these supplies have already been claimed. I’ll be on my way. Sorry to have-” Cold terror flooded her body as the hum of an approaching ship cut through the stillness. The boy looked up, tear-stained eyes wide in terror. “I told you. I told you you shouldn’t be here.” Ignoring his rambling, she dove into the darkness, but the sudden movement was too much for him. He leapt away from her, crashing into a stack of shelves, causing them to topple over. When the clattering finally stopped, so did the humming. Madeline cursed silently as a hydraulic hiss broke the silence, only to be replaced by a scuttling sound that grew ever louder. "Hey, you," she whispered to the whimpering boy. "It's all going to be okay, okay?" He nodded quickly, pleading eyes locked onto hers. "I need you to take this," she said, thrusting the book into his arms, "and read it aloud to me, to stop them getting into my head. Can you do that?" His small hands closed around the cover, fumbling to open it. “Yeah, I think so.” Free of the weight of the book, Madeline felt oddly naked. She resisted the urge to snatch it back and swung her pack off, placing it on the floor. “Read,” she urged, turning to face the door. “And don’t stop no matter what.” The first word had just left his lips when the Poiloog came crashing through the door. Madeline charged toward it, knocking it to the ground with a well-placed shoulder to the abdomen. The collision with its stiff exoskeleton jolted the joint in its socket, sending tingles of pain shooting down her arm. Her momentum carried her through as she gritted her teeth against the pain, and she landed with a thud on the other side of its sprawling body. Then it was a race to see who could right themselves first. By the time she scrambled to her feet, all eight of the Poiloog's legs were back underneath it and scuttling towards her. Its eyes bulged, antennae pulsing, and a strange buzzing pressure encroached on her mind, enveloping her senses. Her body felt as if it was drifting away from her, heavy limbs floating where she’d left them. Catching herself, she tried to focus on the words coming from the boy. "...with very little to distress or vex her." She regained control of her body and senses just in time to slip the grab of the Poiloog’s claw. It reached towards her again with a jagged pincer which she ducked under, moving her head down and sideways in a smooth arc while keeping her eyes on the kludge of a creature. "She was the youngest..." The violence of the moment juxtaposed with the sweet story brought her a strange amusement. She was starting to get a grip on the rhythm of the fight now. Dodge here. Slide there. Focus on the words. Change the angle. Keep out of reach. Focus on the words. "...of two daughters..." Her breathing was becoming ragged, and she knew she couldn't keep this up much longer without making a mistake. She needed to go on the attack - to finish this. All she needed was an opening. "...of a most affectionate...." The Poiloog made another swipe at her, overreaching slightly. Madeline rolled under its clawed hand and she swept a leg round, her shin connecting sharply with two of the creature's eight knees. "...and indulgent father." It collapsed forward and Madeline leapt to her feet, snatching the book off of the boy to swing round into the Poiloog's head with a satisfying *crunch*. She brought the book down again and again until the body stopped twitching. Panting, she stared down at the deep purple fluid oozing from the pulp where the Poiloog’s head had been. As the adrenaline started to seep away, pain reared its ugly head. Pain in her shoulder. Pain in her shin. Pain in her palm. It was then that she noticed the splash of scarlet amidst the purple. Tucking the dishevelled book under her arm, she reached down to retrieve the sock that had been wrapped around her hand, wringing as much of the goop off of it as she could before stuffing it in her pocket. She flexed her injured hand a few times. When she was satisfied it wasn’t about to start dripping blood again, she grabbed her pack off the floor and headed for the door. A sniff stopped her in her tracks and she turned back to where the boy stood. "We've got to leave now. More will come looking for this one." "I can't," he cried. "I’m meant to stay here. It's dangerous out there. It’s dangerous with you. It’s danger-" "I'm sorry but I don't have time for this. Yes, it's dangerous out there, but soon it's going to be even more dangerous *in here*. I’m leaving with or without you. Now." Not waiting for a response, Madeline started towards the door. She paused when she reached it, inspecting the street. The Poiloog’s craft sat outside, looking strangely mundane now it no longer hovered in the air - almost like an oversized jet ski. Apart from that, everything seemed clear, for now at least. She slipped through the opening and set off down the street. She moved faster than her usual pace, fear overtaking caution as she clung to the edge of the buildings, head swivelling constantly. A few seconds later she heard hurried footsteps behind her. Glancing over her shoulder she could see the boy trying to catch up. He was jogging down the road, a loud *slap* ringing out each time his foot struck the ground. A jolt of panic ran through Madeline with every *slap slap slap* of his feet, setting her whole body trembling. She looked around, noticing an alleyway to her left. If she sprinted down there and round a corner she could lose him - lose the attention he would draw if he carried on like this. But he’d only left because of her. Gritting her teeth she stopped in her tracks, turning around and waiting for the boy to catch up. Once within reach, she grabbed him. He struggled against her grip but his strength was no match for hers, her hand easily encompassing his skinny arm. Pulling him closer, she fixed him with a glare. When she was sure she had his full attention, she hissed, “You’re going to get us both killed if you keep making that much noise. Follow me, stick to the edge of the street, and please, for the love of God, try to move quietly.” “Sorr-” “Now come on.” Madeline set off again, keeping a tight grip on her new companion’s arm.