AARON My name is Aaron, and in that moment there was only one thought that mattered. I knew I did not want that thing to find my family. Not Elena. Not Lucas. Not ever. I was already turning toward her, ready to whisper that we should move across the parking lot, that we should use the cars for cover and disappear between them while we still could, when I saw her mouth fall open. Her lips parted in silent shock. The color drained from her face so fast it was frightening, as if all the blood had simply fled. I followed her stare through the car windows, my eyes searching, confused for half a second then my own breath caught hard in my throat. A machine exploded through the church doors. Wood and metal burst outward as if the building itself had rejected it.The doors tore free, slamming against the stone walls, and the thing came through without slowing. It was already running. Closing the distance to Heather with terrible, impossible speed. Its movements were smooth and perfect, each step measured, efficient, inhuman. The shiny black face reflected the parking lot lights in cold, curved fragments, and the sight of it filled me with a deep, crawling dread that settled in my chest and refused to move. This thing was not natural. It was not alive. It had been built. Designed. Made for one purpose only. To hunt people. Heather must have heard it. She glanced over her shoulder as she ran, her hair whipping across her face, and whatever she saw shattered her. Her cries changed, rising into something sharper, more desperate, filled with raw panic. She started screaming to God as she ran, her voice breaking as she begged for help, for mercy, for anyone to save her. Her words echoed across the parking lot, too loud, too exposed. The machine was still fifteen yards away when it launched itself forward. It didn't leap like a person would. It hurled its entire weight ahead with brutal precision. Its knee drove straight into the middle of her back. The sound was dull and sickening, and the force of the impact looked strong enough to shatter bone. Heather was thrown forward, her body folding in a way it never should have, and she slammed face down onto the asphalt. The machine landed on her and rode her body like some horrible surfboard made of flesh. She skidded across the pavement for several feet, her screams crushed into the ground, the air driven violently from her lungs. The sound cut off in a choking wheeze. She lifted her head. From ten yards away, I could see the tears carving clean lines through the dirt on her face. Her eyes were wide, unfocused at first then they found me. Found us. In that single, unbearable second, understanding settled over her features. She knew she was not alone. She knew I was there. She knew I could have helped and had chosen instead to hide behind a car. She reached one trembling hand toward me, fingers stretching, her mouth open as she screamed for help. The robot grabbed her head. One hand clamped beneath her chin. The other locked onto the base of her skull. There was no hesitation. No struggle. With one sharp, efficient motion, it twisted her head nearly all the way around. I heard the sound. It was small, dry, final.Her body went completely limp. From the corner of my eye, I saw Elena slap her hand over her mouth, her fingers pressing so hard her knuckles went white. She bit into her own skin to keep from making a sound. I felt my knees weaken and braced myself against the car to keep from falling back. That was when I realized I had covered my son Lucas's mouth. I hadn't even been aware of doing it. I only noticed when I felt his warm tears soaking into my palm as he cried silently against my hand. The machine shifted. It placed one hand on Heather's hip and left it there for a long time. Too long. It wasn't idle. It was doing something. I didn't understand what, and the not knowing made my stomach twist. When it finally finished, it stood up in one smooth motion.It turned back toward the church, pausing only to kneel and grab one of her ankles. Then it began dragging her body across the asphalt, her head lolling uselessly, leaving faint streaks behind her as it pulled her back inside the dark doorway. We waited. I don't know how long it was. Seconds. Minutes. Maybe longer. Time had stopped meaning anything. The only sensation I was aware of was the burning in my lungs. I had forgotten to breathe. When I finally let the air out, it came in a shaky rush. Elena and I stared at each other, our eyes wide, our faces pale and hollow with shock. Neither of us spoke. There was nothing to say. Slowly, painfully carefully, we began to move along the side of the car. We stayed low, our bodies tight and controlled, every movement deliberate.Lucas clung to me, his arms locked around my neck, his weight pulling at my lower back. I felt every ounce of it, but the pain didn't matter. It couldn't. Nothing could. We slipped between two rows of parked cars, easing into the narrow space between them. Now we had a lane, one that kept us hidden from the church doors and its dark windows. We moved faster, still crouched low, but with a desperation that pushed me beyond what I thought my body could do. The fear of losing Elena and Lucas drove me forward, lent strength to my legs, forced speed into my movements. I had never moved like that before. In moments, we reached the road. I looked back over my shoulder. Every sound I heard was that machine returning. Every scrape of metal, every distant echo, every breath of wind. Every glint of lamplight reflected in a car window became its shiny black face in my mind, turning toward us, locking on. I saw it everywhere. And I knew, with cold certainty, that it wasn't done.