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Alien Firestorm (Fire and Rust Book 2)

Page 23

by Anthony James


  The rest of the short journey was a blur. Conway’s heart beat fast and his breathing became deeper. He felt rising fury that he might not make it home again – after all this crap, he didn’t want to die on Prime015.

  After a hard run, the squad made it once more to the entry point and Conway looked through the broken metal of the spaceship’s armor and out into the cold emptiness of space. He didn’t know how fast they were travelling and didn’t really want to know the answer.

  “We’ve got to hold onto each other and jump,” he said. “If we don’t hold on, we’ll end up drifting in different directions and maybe they won’t be able to rescue all of us.”

  Nobody offered an alternative plan, though Kemp had an oar he wanted to stick in.

  “When we jump out of the back, won’t we still be travelling at the same speed as the mothership?” he asked. “Since this is a vacuum and all.”

  Griffin clapped him on the back. “Good question. Prime015 is still accelerating. We won’t be accelerating.”

  “Let’s get this done,” said Conway.

  He grabbed hold of Barron’s arm and held it tight. Griffin held onto Conway’s grenade belt. One-by-one, they linked and walked as a group towards the opening. It was clumsy, but they jumped together. As soon as Conway’s feet left the life support field, he felt his grip on Barron being pulled and he nearly let go. Akandar was caught out and he lost his hold on Zargol. The Fangrin spun away from the group and Conway knew there was no way he was getting back to the others.

  The spaceship’s acceleration sent it hurtling onwards and it became rapidly smaller. Inside his suit, Conway shivered at the emptiness around him.

  “I’ve sent out a distress signal,” he said. “If we’re lucky, there’ll be someone listening.”

  “We should repeat the distress call every minute,” said Griffin. “It’ll increase the odds of it getting to the right place.”

  A few minutes after they jumped from Prime015, Conway thought he saw a flash of white light in the direction of its travel. He zoomed the HUD view as far as it would go, but wasn’t able to confirm one way or another what he’d seen. Out here, it could have been a star.

  Private Kemp produced a length of thin, strong rope from one of the pockets on his combat suit. It was tiring to keep holding on to each other and the rope made everyone’s lives a lot easier. As the hours went by, Conway became progressively more relieved that he was fastened to the group, since even the smallest of errors would have set him drifting.

  “Do you reckon we stopped Invarol from being hit with incendiaries?” asked Kemp.

  “I don’t know, soldier. I hope so.”

  “You think they’d have rescued us by now.”

  “Are you in a hurry to go somewhere?”

  “My suit power’s draining at about ten times normal speed, sir.”

  “Why didn’t you say so earlier?”

  “What difference would it have made?”

  Another eight hours later and Kemp’s suit power cell dropped below five percent. He tried to keep up with the joking, but Conway could see the fear in his eyes.

  “I knew I should have gone into the family business.”

  “Yeah? What business was that?”

  “Burglary, sir.”

  Once again, Conway was left wondering if Kemp was being serious or not. He didn’t ask. A shape appeared in his periphery and he twisted awkwardly in order to see it. He squinted and then he recognized what it was.

  “The Gradior,” he said. “How did they get here?”

  There’d be time for questions later. The heavy cruiser matched speeds with the adrift group of humans and Fangrin. It drew ever closer and Conway could see that the forward airlock was open. A hundred meters became fifty meters, then ten and then two. Conway guessed it took real skill to pilot the ship with such precision, though he didn’t really know.

  The group tumbled into the airlock and Akandar was already there, waiting for them. Zargol embraced him like an old friend and it was the first display of affection Conway could recall witnessing amongst the aliens.

  Zargol slammed the outer airlock door with an air of finality and they entered the ship. Dominguez created a new channel and addressed everyone.

  “Invarol is safe for now,” she said. “Find someplace to rest up. I’m sure you need it and I doubt you’ll get a chance later.”

  Conway suddenly found himself exhausted. It was the kind of bone-deep weariness that only came at the end of the hardest battles. This time it felt like he’d faced ten such battles in a row with no time between each.

  He lay back on the cold, hard floor, closed his eyes and dreamed of home.

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