A Cold Black Wave by Timothy H. Scott Page B

watching, and using his compact binoculars to scan ahead.  He couldn’t find anything.  It was supposed to be here, but there was nothing.  He plotted a new, shorter route a bit further in case the original estimate was off and continued.
     
    Then it came upon him like an ambush, appearing out of nowhere, and Josh dove into cover behind a tree and pulled his rifle to his front.  His hands shook as he rested the barrel on top of a log and took aim.  Heavy, thick snowflakes began to fall.
     
    There it was.  Some type of small structure.  Concrete, or metal.  Like a bunker.  The object he had seen in the photo was sticking up from the top of the bunker like an antenna, except at first glance it appeared as a long stick that blended with the trees.  The snow accumulated on a strange object on the ground that was shaped like a body.
     
    It was sitting erect against a tree only a dozen feet away from the bunker, as if it had sat down to rest and never got up.  The snowfall was making it difficult to see anything in detail. Josh pulled his rifle around and sat with his back against his cover to consider his next move.
     
    Josh glanced back from where he had just come and again dreaded the thought of returning with nothing.  He had little time to spare here and needed to act, but he feared violence by approaching the bunker.  Nobody constructs a well camouflaged bunker made of concrete for a hunting blind, unless whatever they were hunting was extremely dangerous.  The bunker was designed to withstand combat, plain and simple, and whatever is lying there in the snow either was from the bunker or had tried attacking it.
     
    There still could be someone in the bunker, but he was rapidly deducing that was unlikely.  Whatever happened here was over and the occupants dead or gone.  Josh stared at the opening in the bunker wall, a two foot slit that ran along the base of the forest floor and which had full view of Josh’s approach.  Had there been someone in there watching he’d be dead by now.
     
    The heavy snowfall threatened to accumulate a foot per hour, making an already difficult trip back to the shuttle into a nightmare.  The last thing he had anticipated finding was intelligent design, as that brought with it the worst type of scenario for he and Leah.  An uninhabited planet was one kind of ordeal, but the variables involved with intelligent beings were limitless and far deadlier than facing nature alone.  Of course, there was the possibility that whatever beings existed here were peaceful in nature, but his distinct cynicism of the human race led him to rule that out completely.  If they are anything like us I better shoot first.
     
    Josh stood and approached the bunker with the barrel end of his rifle following his eyesight and ready to kill anything that moved.  The wind had died and the snow was soft as air as his boots stepped through it, making measured progress towards the bunker.  He was close enough now to make out what was lying against the tree.  Josh kneeled slightly and peered at it as his heart raced.  It was some kind of machine, sitting, staring straight at nothing.  He moved closer until only a few feet away, keeping the rifle leveled at its chest.
     
    There were legs, and arms.  He could see it clearly now.  The head was more like a triangular shape with rounded edges, and no distinct facial features.  There was some kind of symbol or insignia on its shoulder and chest that resembled a national flag, but he didn’t recognize the country.
     
    The metal chassis bore scorch marks, spotted with small holes and corroded metal.  Josh figured it had been on the losing end of the fight and was inactivated a long time ago.  A kind of moss had developed over many of its limbs and small, wiry vines had curled themselves around the body.  He glanced over to the bunker.
     
    There was a series of steps that led below ground level and preceded a door that was partially open.  Maybe