Final Days: Escape

by Jasper T. Scott

  “On me,” Andrew said, and set out at a brisk pace, scanning the muddy mess of leaves on the forest floor.

  “What are you looking for?” Keller asked.

  “Last time I found the pond that conceals the entrance of Hound’s lair by following animal tracks.” The pond was a source of fresh water, so it made sense that animals would go there to drink. “There we go,” Andrew said, stopping to examine a set of muddy prints. They weren’t the giant pawprints of the alien wolves, but rather the smaller dime-sized pock marks of an eight-legged animal. He’d never seen the animal it corresponded to, nor would he like to. “That way.” Andrew pointed as he followed the muddy tracks leading from the river. They soon joined up with two more sets, and all three of them wove through the trees in the same direction.

  “How do you know we’re following the tracks in the right direction?” Keller asked.

  “I don’t.”

  “Fantastic. If I get stuck on this godforsaken planet with you...”

  Andrew barked a laugh. “Don’t worry. I’m not keen to spend the rest of my days with you either.”

  Ten minutes later, the trees parted to reveal a moonlit clearing and a dark, gleaming circle of water. Andrew heaved a sigh of relief. “Would you look at that?”

  “You must be wearing a rabbit’s foot.”

  “No argument here. Stay sharp. Last thing we need is for Hound to sneak up on us, or another one of those wolves.”

  Keller snorted but said nothing. Andrew led them to the water’s edge and waded out to the center of the pond. His boots thunked on the metal hatch cover, and he bent down to open it. The long, shadowy stairwell materialized, just as before.

  Andrew nodded to Keller, who was watching the mist-shrouded edges of the pond where they stood, his rifle sweeping back and forth.

  “Ready?”

  “Go,” Keller whispered.

  Andrew slipped under the hatch and hurried down the stairs, leaving the cover open behind them for a quick escape. He felt for the bomb in the front pouch of his jumpsuit, reassuring himself that it was still there. The beams of their angle-head flashlights bounced along the walls and ceiling of the stairwell as they ran to the entrance at the bottom. Andrew stepped up to the door and tested the handle.

  “Locked. Damn it!” Andrew hissed.

  “Maybe we can just leave the bomb here,” Keller suggested. “It’ll cave in the entrance.”

  “But there’s a hangar entrance. Hound can still enter even if we destroy this one.”

  “Well...” Keller glanced behind them to the top of the stairs. “I don’t know that we have a choice.”

  “Stand back,” Andrew suggested.

  “What?”

  “You heard me!”

  They both retreated quickly, climbing the first few steps, and Andrew aimed at the handle with his rifle. “Plug your ears,” he suggested. He pulled the trigger and held it down on full auto. The rifle pulsed and roared against his shoulder, vibrating hard. It was nearly impossible to control with his left arm wounded, but he managed to riddle the door with holes. A few bullets plinked off and shattered concrete walls around them, narrowly missing warmer targets.

  “Let’s try it now,” Andrew said. He grabbed the handle with his right hand. This time the door gave a few inches as he pulled. Andrew threw his weight against it, and it gave another half an inch. “Come on!” he said, tugging with everything he had.

  The door sprang free, and he went flying into the wall. The back of his head hit concrete, dazing him.

  “I think you got it,” Keller whispered.

  Andrew rounded the door and stepped through, sweeping for targets. Not seeing anything, he moved quickly, searching for support beams or other structures that would maximize the effect of the bomb. The inside of the control center was exactly the way he’d left it: rows of screens and empty control stations lined the floor. Beyond that were the illuminated cryo tanks full of specimens, and Hound’s personal control hub, surrounded by live streams of hidden cameras strategically planted around their camp.

  Andrew found what he was looking for near the midpoint of the echoing chamber: a solid pillar that ascended to the darkened ceiling above. “This is it,” he said as he bent down and planted the bomb. “Are you ready to run for it, Keller?”

  No reply.

  Andrew glanced up and searched the room. He found Keller walking toward a door on the left side of the room. “Keller!” he called. “Get back here!”

  The other man rounded on him with a finger to his lips, then pointed to the door. Andrew returned the bomb to the front pouch of his jumpsuit with a frown before crossing the room to join him. “What?” he whispered.

  “The hangar is through that door. Don’t you want to see if there’s another fighter we can use to escape?” Keller asked. He went to the door and turned the handle.

  Andrew followed him through into a vast, shadowy chamber. Three streamlined silver fighters sat on the floor, with a gap where a fourth should have been. Keller swept the room for targets and Andrew checked their six, before they hurried across the room to the nearest vehicle. Keller spent a moment running his hands along the mirror-smooth sides of it. Andrew guarded the entrance. “You know how to get in or not?”

  “Give me a second!”

  The ships had no windows or visible seams of any kind. Keller didn’t even seem to know what he was searching for.

  Something growled, drawing Andrew’s attention. He saw the tigerwolf slowly creeping near the entrance of the hangar.

  “We might not have a second,” Andrew pointed out, tracking the beast with his rifle.

  Keller glanced away from the fighter. “Just shoot it!”

  Andrew’s finger tightened on the trigger. A musical voice echoed through the room, followed by a deep, halting translation: “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” The words sent an icy shiver down Andrew’s spine. For a moment, he wondered if they’d come from that wolf, but the creature’s mouth hadn’t moved.

  “Why not?” Andrew demanded, his eyes searching the ceiling where he suspected hidden speakers were relaying the voice. Hound’s voice. Was this what he actually sounded like?

  The musical voice returned, high-pitched and oddly melodious, speaking in a language more alien than anything Andrew had ever heard. Once more, the translation followed: “Because if you kill my pet, then I’ll kill your daughter.”

  Andrew’s finger froze on the trigger. “You’re bluffing.”

  “Am I…?”

  * * *

  Val

  Val tore across the fields, running faster than she ever had in her life. Tony ran beside her, Kendra and Carrie leading the way. Carrie burst through the entrance of the residences and held the doors open as the rest of the colonists crowded through. Lasers chased them in, exploding on the walls of the building and in the backs of dying people. Screams split the air, and the sharp bite of ozone filled Val’s nostrils.

  She sobbed as she sprinted through the hallway to the stairs. Tony pulled alongside her, his arms pumping. He had his pistol out in one hand, and she had the tiny revolver Kendra had given her, but Val couldn’t imagine how those guns would be of any use against the mechanized army they’d seen. Those robots were huge.

  “Hurry!” Kendra cried from a few steps ahead of them. She reached the stairwell and yanked the door open.

  Val flew across the threshold and up the stairs with Tony, leading a screaming, shoving crowd of at least fifty other colonists to the upper levels of the residences.

  Hound’s true voice echoed through the walls of the building, followed by the stilted English translation. The words were muffled beyond recognition, but the sound of their pursuit added fuel to Val’s screaming muscles. She hit the second floor and pushed through the door into the corridor.

  “Where are you going?” Tony called after her between gasps for air.

  “My room!” she said.

  “We should go higher!” he said, indicating the way they’d com
e. This corridor was deserted. All of the other colonists were busy taking Tony’s advice. They probably thought the more floors they could put between themselves and the advancing army, the better. But they weren’t thinking about what would happen when they wound up on the fourth or fifth floor with nowhere left to run. At least here, she and Tony could jump from the windows if they were cornered.

  Val shook her head, speechless for lack of breath. She reached the door to her room and slammed it open. Tony barreled in behind her, and she locked it behind them.

  “Help me drag the bed in front of it,” she said.

  Tony nodded and tucked his pistol into his belt. Val did the same, and then they each grabbed the edges of her bed and hauled the metal frame in front of the door.

  “That won’t hold,” Tony said, shaking his head. “We should hide. Maybe they won’t search the whole building.”

  Val grimaced, but gave in with a nod. “The bathroom.” She pointed to it. They charged for the open doorway.

  Before they even reached it, a whistling shriek issued from the window to the courtyard below. Val stopped and turned toward the sound—

  A burst of light and heat and a deafening boom sent her flying into the bathroom vanity. With ringing ears, she peeled herself off the furniture and stumbled forward a few steps. Tony stood beside the entrance of the bathroom, bleeding from a dozen minor cuts in his face, arms, and torso. His hair was a wild mess, the Beretta held in a shaky two-handed grip, aiming at the gaping hole in the wall where Val’s window had been a moment ago. Flaming scraps of drapery framed the gap, and the gleaming wedges of glass reflected flickers of the small fire. Metal hands slammed on the floor, and a robot’s head surfaced as it began pulling itself up.

  Tony fired, and the bullet plinked off its shoulders, crunching into the adjacent wall. He shot repeatedly with the same result, his muffled screams reaching Val’s deafened ears as if from a great distance. She belatedly joined him with her revolver, but nothing was stopping the monstrous machine.

  It pulled itself fully into the gap and stood with its head brushing the ceiling. A glowing green visor studied them from its unnaturally small head.

  Tony looked to Val with wide, terrified eyes. “Run!” he cried.

  A bright flash of light tore through the room and spun him around like a ballerina.

  “No!” Val cried as Tony crumpled to the floor.

  She fired at the robot until the gun was empty, all of its bullets spent.

  She stood glaring balefully at Tony’s killer, her eyes blurry and streaming with tears, and a scalding knot in her throat. She expected another flash of light to put her out of her misery, but that shot never came.

  Instead, the machine stepped aside and revealed something else, standing on the hands of another robot soldier below: Hound. Four arms reached for what was left of the wall and floor. One of them found the machine that had killed Tony, and he pulled himself inside, offering a grotesque, lipless version of a smile. His translucent skin pulsed with colorful organs, and tentacles writhed where they protruded from his neck.

  A musical voice shivered out, followed by the stuttering English translation she’d heard before. “Your father wants to talk with you. You’re on speaker, so to speak.” Hound grinned broadly, and Val caught a glimpse of concentric rings of sharp silver teeth arranged inside the alien’s throat.

  “Dad? Are you there?” Val croaked in a voice so choked with grief that it sounded like it didn’t even belong to her.

  Hound’s musical intonations returned. “You see? I’m not bluffing, Miller. I will kill her if you don’t stop what you’re doing.”

  Now Val understood why this robot hadn’t shot her on sight as it had Tony. “Don’t listen to him, I—”

  Hound’s grin vanished. Beady silver eyes flared wide as he flew across the room. One of his four arms blurred as it swung, and the open palm connected with the side of her face in a violent slap that sent her flying into the wall. Val couldn’t help the scream that tore from her lips as that brief contact set her entire cheek on fire. She reached up to touch her face, and her palm came away slick with blood. Hound smiled once more, and she saw hooked black claws retreating into puckered sockets in his palm. He hadn’t just slapped her. He’d slashed her cheek open with retractable claws.

  A dizzying wave of nausea rolled through her as she felt the ragged gashes in her cheek. Her gaze tracked to Tony, lying morbidly still beside her. His eyes were shut. He had a charred black hole in his shoulder big enough that she could stick three fingers into it.

  “Shall we see who’s quicker on the draw, Miller?” Hound asked.

  THIRTY-ONE

  Roland

  The voice carrying through camp was familiar, and horrendous. The echoing harmonic tones, translating into Hound’s human voice, were enough to make Roland want to jam his fingers into his ears. He would have done it if his hands weren’t full carrying the heavy electromagnetic pulse device. It seemed strange to create a machine that could effectively disable the entire colony, but from what he’d read, they’d managed to isolate the long-term effects by building safeguards into their circuit boards. Roland understood some of this, but not adequately enough to pass judgment.

  By the time he crossed halfway through camp, the gunfire had begun. He saw the robots marching through the fields, weapons blazing as they targeted the floodlights keeping the camp from basking in utter darkness. With the lights out, he could only see the bursts of laser fire coming from the alien robots, and the odd spark of a bullet grazing off their metal exteriors.

  “The damned robot revolution is upon us,” he muttered, chest heaving with exertion. It was chaos in camp, and he was shocked to find so many humans out there fighting a war they couldn’t win. Even from here, he watched as a few of them were gunned down, plunging face-first into the mud. He cringed, again feeling the urge to run in the opposite direction.

  A lot of people were still rushing toward the residences, and that’s where Roland headed, tweaking his trajectory. The rain wasn’t as bad now, and he almost removed the mask, hating how hot he was, despite the cool night breeze. Mist circled around his legs, and he decided to leave it on for the time being. The last thing he needed was a hallucination. From the looks of camp, he was already in the middle of one.

  Most of the robots were heading toward the old Saints’ base, and Roland hoped like hell this was going to work. If it didn’t, they were done for. There was no way out of this one. The fact that their fate rested on his shoulders was almost enough to stop him in his tracks. But he continued to walk, each squishing step sending more water into his boots. His arms were weakening, his legs straining, but he didn’t halt. He couldn’t.

  More gunfire, and as he neared the residence, a good hundred yards ahead, he spotted Eve, covering for a group of colonists armed with nothing more than gardening tools. It was pitiful.

  “Eve!” he shouted, and she turned toward him, wildness in her eyes. Her gun tracked as if he was the enemy, and Roland dropped the device, which splattered in the mud. His hands found the sky in a hurry. “It’s just me!”

  She ran to his side, weapon lowered. “Rollie, what the hell are you doing? Going to play them some soothing death metal?” She kicked at the boxy EMP device.

  “Don’t…” He cringed, crouching. He peered to the sky, fat drops falling on his forehead.

  “What is it?” Eve asked, her gaze still darting around.

  “Something that can turn the tide. Where’s Hound?” Roland asked, spotting Kendra with Carrie. They arrived at the residences, their backs pressing against the exterior wall.

  Eve shook her head, muttering something unintelligible. “Eve, pull it together. Where’s Hound?”

  “I think he went inside.”

  Roland watched as Kendra entered the building. The robots continued to fire at the structure, meaning he didn’t have time to waste. He fiddled with the device, desperate to turn it on.

  * * *

  Andrew
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  “Dad? Are you there?” The sound of Val’s tearful voice flooded Andrew with naked terror.

  “You see? I’m not bluffing, Miller. I will kill her if you don’t stop what you’re doing.”

  “Don’t listen to him, I—”

  A loud slap, followed by a scream, echoed through the hangar. “Shall we see who’s quicker on the draw, Miller?”

  “I got it!” Keller cried, and a hiss of pneumatics filled the air. The wolf continued stalking toward them, never once blinking as it narrowed the gap.

  Hound went on: “Board that ship, and I kill Val. Shoot the wolf, and I kill Val. Plant your bomb, and... well, you get the idea.”

  “What do you want from me?” Andrew demanded, his mind racing impotently for a solution that didn’t end with either him or Val dead.

  Keller caught Andrew’s eye and slowly shook his head. “He’s going to kill her no matter what you do.”

  “I’ll tell you what I want,” Hound said. “I want you to suffer. Lower your guns and fight. If you can defeat Morvak with your bare hands, I’ll let you plant your bomb and fly out of there. I won’t even try to stop you.”

  Feeling sick with anticipation of what was to come, Andrew ducked out of his rifle’s shoulder strap.

  “Oh yes, and Keller? If you try to end my fun, I’ll feed Carrie to them. Then you’ll never have a chance to tell her how you really feel.”

  Keller paled, his aim wavering from the advancing predator. “He’s playing with us.”

  Andrew grunted his agreement and flexed both hands into fists. His left was still weak from his last encounter with one of these creatures.

  Andrew eyed the wolf as it padded slowly toward them. He glanced at Keller, who was placing his weapons on the floor to join the fight.

  “You go left, I’ll go right,” Andrew said. “If one of us can sweep behind it, we might stand a chance.”

  Keller nodded and swallowed visibly. They crept forward, each of them circling around, trying to avoid the alien’s deadly claws and teeth.

  “That’s it,” Hound gloated.