Before they are sent to war, a soldier is taught two things; Follow orders when they are given, and when no orders are forthcoming, follow your training. It is only through engaging in war that the soldier learns a third thing; when training and orders fail, follow your instincts.

So when Bel drew everyone's attention to the hovering black orb the size of an industrial fridge a bare thirty yards away, every instinct in Alejandra's head lit off at once. And they all screamed 'danger'.

"Kill it!" she shouted the order in her Command voice, giving her soldiers the orders they needed–

But she had no soldiers. She had children, armed with civilian weapons and no training. And a husband who had survived a single fight to the death with a giant crab.

Even as she gave the order, the front half of the orb split open–not unlike an industrial fridge–to reveal a writhing mass of something, full of fleshy pinks and greys and a distinct impression of eyes. And from within those squirming recesses launched things. A harsh buzzing filled the air, insect-like and discordant, setting her teeth on edge, and more than a dozen flying monstrosities the size of small dogs darted towards her exposed family.

The fourth thing a soldier learns is that sometimes your instincts are wrong.

=================

Matt heard his wife's order, and reacted on instinct. He unslung the shotgun from over his shoulder and brought it up in one smooth motion that looked like he'd practiced it a dozen times. The pump racked back, chambering a shell, and slid forward to close the breach just as the orb split open. His cheek found its spot-weld against the body of the weapon, and his eyes sighted down the barrel as what looked like an H.R. Geiger reimagining of mosquitos leaped from the interior. The first one exploded out and started a mad dash straight for him and his family.

The second one caught a face full of double-ought buckshot. The heavy pellets, each one the equivalent of a round from Allie's beloved AR-15, blew the creature to gray-green bits and left only a mist behind in the air.

Mist that was instantly dispersed as three more of the things flew right through that same airspace.

"Get your backs against a wall!" Matt roared out, racking the shotgun and firing again, shredding the lead mosquito. "Don't let them get behind us!"

"They're going high! Watch out!" Olivia's voice came, pitched high and squeaking with fear as she struggled to get her own shotgun up. "Mom! Gun!"

Matt caught a flicker of motion out of the corner of his eye as Olivia plucked the pistol from her belt and tossed it under-hand to Allie, who grabbed it out of the air and used it to shoot down a mosquito that was coming in at them from a higher angle.

Matt fired four more times in fast succession, taking out three more mosquitos but barely clipping one with his last shot. The things were fast, and they moved like hummingbirds on speed, zipping back and forth utterly unpredictably.

The shotgun clicked on an empty chamber. He was out of ammo.

"Reloading!" he hollered as he dug frantically in his pockets for the extra shells he had there.

Two mosquitos dove right for him. He had time to register needle-like serrated beaks, and jaws that unhinged like the Predator to reveal a maw full of shark's teeth below a trio of red compound eye orbs.

And he knew he would not reload in time.

=========

"I got you Dad!" Olivia yelled as she got her shotgun unlimbered finally. She stepped up and practically rammed her shoulder into her dad's as she got into line with him, brought up her gun, and fired. The weapon kicked like a horse, and she grunted in pain at what she was absolutely sure was going to be a bruise tomorrow if they managed to live through the next five minutes.

Her shot was a good one, and it took out the lead mosquito heading for Dad. The other one zipped off at an angle, breaking off its attack run–

Changing its attack run. A thousand needles clamped down on Olivia's forearm, right where she was holding the shotgun, and started to rip! A scream of pain and terror tore itself from her throat as she just managed to comprehend the nightmare thing eating her arm. She felt those teeth scrape her bone, and then light exploded behind her eyes and she fell to her knees. Her own screams filled her ears. The agony was her entire world. She tried to stand, tried to fight it off–

"Get the fuck away from my sister!"

Bel's savage shriek cut through the pain and reached her ears, and the stars in her vision cleared just enough to see her sister grab two of the mosquito's jaws and wrench them open. There was a wet crackling crunch as the mosquito was torn off of Olivia's arm through brute force. Then Bel slammed the giant insect to the ground, raised one shoed foot, and stomped. Another crunch, and a gout of guts, and then Bel was back beside her, hauling her back to her feet.

"Keep shooting, Sis!" Bel yelled as more gunfire erupted around the clearing. The heavy crack of hunting rifles, and the higher-pitched blast of Lucas's own single-shot shotgun joined in the fusilade.

"Oh shit," Olivia heard Bel whisper as she tried to get her gun back up, but her arm wasn't working right. "Luc! Luc get over here, we need you!"

==========

Dinah felt herself fall fully into the Zone. She held the right flank of the family, right next to Lucas. Behind them, a pile of rocks and rubble to put their backs against. Her 30-06 snugged tight against her shoulder and her eyes open and unblinking as the Mosquitos tried to get at them.

She felt her breath come into her lungs smooth and unhurried, her heart pounding out a slow, steady rhythm that she timed her shots by.

Two beats, one shot.

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Crack. The heavy bullet slammed into the barrel-shaped body of a mosquito trying to dive on Mrs. Albright, swatting it out of the air.

It was just like pheasant hunting with her family back home. Except these things were faster. And uglier. And meaner. And probably would kill them all if they got too close.

Okay so it wasn't much like pheasant hunting.

Two beats. One shot.

Crack.

Another mosquito blew apart under the impact of the bullet, this one just before it could reach Livia. Her friend was crouched down, one hand having grabbed the Glock from her big sister's holster and was firing it one-handed into the insect swarm. Her other arm was a mess of torn flesh and flowing blood.

"Luc! We need you!"

"Coming!" Lucas yelled, and the boy moved clearly without thinking, running behind the line of shooters and leaving a hole between Dinah and Mrs. Albright. Also without thinking, Dinah side-stepped and closed the gap, her hip brushing against Mrs. Albrights with just enough force to let the woman know she was there, but not so much as to spoil her aim.

Mrs. Albright nodded without looking at her and fired three more rounds from her own pistol. None of them hit. The Mosquitos were starting to move faster.

Two beats, one shot.

Crack.

Missed.

"One round left," she called, cold and clinical. She could feel her fear and terror gibbering away inside of her, outside of the Zone. She ignored them. Just like she always did. She was Hunting. Feelings had no place in the Hunt. She would let them out later. Along with the contents of her stomach, and probably enough tears to flood the Nile.

Just like always.

Two beats, one shot.

Crack.

"I'm empty. Reloading."

==========

Lucas lost his grip on his gun as he scrabbled over loose rocks and earth, trying to get to his sisters. His heart was pounding, his stomach was in his throat, and he was pretty sure he'd just peed his pants–not that he would ever let anyone know that. If anyone asked, he'd say it was blood. Or maybe mosquito guts. Yeah.

He sucked in deep lungfulls of smoky air as he scrambled, the gunsmoke stinging his eyes and making his nose run. But he ignored it. His sister needed him.

"I'm here! I'm here!" he skidded to his knees beside Olivia, who was kneeling in the dirt firing her gun one-handed at the mosquito-things. Her other arm…

Luc turned, threw up all over Dad's shoes, then wiped his mouth and turned back, cheeks red and throat snarling at his weakness. Dad didn't even flinch. Neither did anyone else.

"Heal her!" Bel said. She'd grabbed Olivia's shotgun where it had fallen and was standing over them both like Wonder Woman in that one movie.

"R-Right!" He reached out for Liv's arm, felt his gorge rise, threw up in his mouth, then forced himself to swallow it back down. Gross. He closed his eyes and summoned his power for the third time.

[Healing Balm]

His eyes flew open wide as more power rushed out of him than he had expected. A soft golden glow washed over Liv's arm, and she let out a surprised squeak as her flesh started to smooth out and knit back together.

Wait, this felt like way more power than he should have. He'd only had that one coin, and he knew almost instinctively that what he was using now, what was healing Liv now, was more than he'd get from just one coin–

He'd killed a mosquito.

"The mosquitos give you coins! Guys, you get coins for killing mosquitos!"

==========

Isabel wasn't angry. No no. She was way beyond 'angry'.

She was rip-shit PISSED.

"DIE!" She screamed, pumping the shotgun and hip-firing it at a mosquito that was diving at the wounded Olivia. "DIE MOTHERFUCKERS!"

Even in battle, she saw Dad wince at her cursing. But fuck it. He could yell at her if they survived this. And she'd welcome it. But right now?

Memories of old Earth swirled around in her head, mixing with the desperation she'd felt in the hall of doors and the remembered shame from the before. And into that swirling morass came hate. It boiled over, rising up and forcing itself from between her lips in a torrent of screamed words.

"You're such a freak!"

Blam.

"You'll never fit in!"

Blam.

"I WANT TO GO HOME!"

Blam.

Rage. Frustration. Fear. Hurt. Hate. Everything poured out of her in one long unfiltered scream as she vented everything from the past few days onto something she could kill.

The shotgun clicked on empty, and she didn't have extra shells. Liv did. Or maybe Dad did. But he was looking in a different direction, firing at more mosquitos.

How were there still mosquitos in the air? They'd killed easily a dozen or more, and that was how many that weird orb thing had–

But even as she thought it, her eyes locked on the orb. It split open again, revealing that gross interior, and more mosquitos launched out of its innards before it snapped shut again. Half of them zipped off to the sides or up into the air, seeking an advantage on the beleaguered family. The rest?

They came straight forward, serrated beaks angling right for the Albrights.

"Empty!" Dad yelled. "Reloading!"

"Reloading!" Mom yelled at the same time.

Bel's eyes bugged out as the two adults struggled to get their weapons back into action. Liv managed to clip one of the Mosquitos, sending it careening off to the side. Dinah got two more. Which left two coming right at them.

At Lucas and Olivia, specifically.

Bel didn't hesitate. She stepped forward, reversed her grip on her shotgun,and drove it like a baseball bat right into the barrel-body of the first Mosquito. There was a heavy crunch as the polymer stock connected with the insect and knocked it square out of the air.

Then there was a wet ripping noise as the second mosquito, with all its momentum behind it, drove its serrated beak right through Bel's shoulder.

Isabel Albright screamed in pain.

Then Isabel Albright saw red.

=========

The Colony observed the fight.

It had not expected a fight.

Curious.

These new prey-creatures were similar to the old ones in many ways, and yet so dissimilar as to be completely alien in others. They moved as a pack, but where the other prey-creatures relied on speed and thick skin to ward off the Colony's scouts, these creatures used… Something else.

The Colony was familiar with weapons. It had encountered exactly three prey-animals in its existence that used the steel thorns or the smoke-throwers. But these creatures used weapons–if weapons they were–far beyond those it was familiar with. Already they had slain over half of the Colony's scout-forms. That was a feat the old prey-creatures had never managed.

They had taken hits, however. Two of its scout-forms had managed to score direct blows on the creatures. And they had reported back to the Colony that the new prey-creatures were soft and delicious, full of good blood and meat, so much that if the Colony took them all now it would be fed for weeks. It could return to the Hive, to once more be a part of the whole and receive new stores of Self.

The Colony had intended to wipe these interlopers out. But the information from the scout-forms changed its decision. These were to be its new prey. Thus they must be allowed to repopulate after it took its toll. The Hive must have food, and to consume thoroughly was wasteful.

It would take only two. The small ones. That would allow the larger ones to survive and produce more offspring for it to later feast upon.

But it was clear that the scout-forms were not up to the task. The fearsome thunder-weapons were proof against the Colony's smallest forms. Thus, it must adjust.

It reached inside itself and called forth its Soldiers.

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