Deathcraft

CHAPTER 1 TUESDAY MORNING

It must be Tuesday. Tuesday was a day Orlok could never get used to. Wednesday was fine, it was the middle of the week and you were nearly there. Thursday too, was good, because it meant only another day to Friday. Friday was the best. Anything on Friday could be put off till Monday, even if you didn't work 9 to 5 Monday to Friday, chances were someone else along the chain of command did, and they wouldn't know see 'it' 'till Monday. Saturday was the day you left to do all those things you have been promising yourself all week, but never did anyway. Sunday was a day of rest, whatever religion you were. Monday was bad, but you knew where you stood with Monday. It was an honest day, cruel but honest. Tuesday was a bastard day. It was nowhere on the calendar, just a stop gap day to fill the week. If Tuesday...

He usually found himself rambling off when there was killing to be done. He ached to move from his death-like position in the shallow crater but it would be too soon, a couple of minutes and it will all be over. These last few minutes always got him in the bowels. Fear? Yes, but fear of failure, not of the confrontation itself. A look at the hooded monitor glowing softly a few inches from his face, showed that the three soldiers were only half a klick away. The itch in his left thigh was back. Orlok thought about taking a sip from the bottle strapped to his jacket but dismissed it. There would be plenty of time soon enough, or else a thirst wouldn't matter. The golden sun was up only a few hours and it was already melting the rocks. And there were plenty of those here. If you wanted to be kind you could describe this place as a rock desert. There was no vegetation, just stones, scree and sand. He wished the soldiers would take a couple of hours to reach him, then the sun would be almost behind him and he would have an advantage. If the sun was behind them, he could play an advantage from A Book Of 5 Rings. The sun. How long had he been here? The sun had set and risen twice since he lay down in the shallow crater and he hadn't moved since. Thank God for drugs. The bottle on his jacket contained a drug originally developed for bedridden patients in hospitals. It reduced a patients restlessness, prevented bedsores and allowed full circulation for those in the prone position. But Orlok found it also worked fine if you wanted to lay in wait for someone for a few days under the constant eye of the enemy. His camouflage also helped.

Another glance at the silent monitor showed the soldiers only one hundred meters away. This was it. Time to die. A terrible and lucid thought flashed through Orlok's mind. Was the gun loaded? He ignored it almost as soon as it occurred to him. The killer was always paranoid before the feast. As he stood up, the rifle in the crook of his left arm, sand fell all about him like petrified rain. Reality stopped, there was only Orlok and the three soldiers. Blood and adrenaline pumped in his temples. In his brain there was only one conscious thought, 'This is what it is all about'.