Darkside 2

by Aaron K Carter

  Shit how do I plan on getting out? That is a good question, Titus, you brilliant fiend, how do you plan on getting out? I look around at the Isylgyns, about fifty of them are in the control room with me, watching me nervously wondering what retaliation I’ll take for having my face shot with acid. They are the ones who brought me the cookies and milk. Russian cookies are not that bad.

  “Brenner was helping me get around, where is she?” I ask.

  “She died about two minutes ago, they got her in the control room,” he says.

  “Right, I don’t know how yet,” I admit, “But I’ll think of something. remember you still need to hit me upside the head.”

  “Okay,” he says, laughing a little, “It’s a date then. Do your thing, Card, get us home.”

  I walk into the hospital room quickly, shutting the door behind me. Not my patient, but they can’t technically stop me. Even so I still feel a sharp shot of nervousness in my gut. I don’t need to get caught doing this. But it’s what I have to do.

  I walk over to the bed where the little girl lies. She’s asleep now. Lacerations to her wrists and ankles, malnutrition, and burns on her neck as though strangled. Identical to three other cases we’ve had, although all of those also involved sexual assault. This one doesn’t. Also the other three were dead or close to. I want to know why, what’s the difference? The police haven’t come yet they won’t till morning when we say they can, except I want to hear from her first. The Vindicta has been following this particular killer for weeks. His MO is always the same, girl around eight years old. same age as my daughter.

  Tied up and starved for days in an empty flat, raped, then murdered. One we got alive but her throat was so badly cut she died shortly after. This girl they found sooner. And I want to know what she knows. This bastard needs to pay, and the wheels of justice are far too slow for the retribution he deserves.

  “Hi, sweetheart,” I say, adjusting her IV drip. Immediately upon hearing my voice, the girl’s ice blue eyes snap open. “I’m Dr. Lutz. I’m here to make sure you’re doing all right.” The little girl doesn’t say anything. She just stares at me.

  “Do you remember who did this to you?” I ask, moving to check the bandage on her wrist. My hand is frozen mid air. The girl keeps staring at me. I try to move my hand back but it doesn’t work. I’m stuck in place, and I feel a slow tingling as the blood quits flowing to my fingers.

  “I’m not going to hurt you,” I say, keeping the fear of my voice. The child is a mutant, cursed or blessed if you prefer with telekinesis. That explains her escape from her would be rapist and murderer. He couldn’t get near her so he gave up. Hopefully she hurt him. “I won’t hurt you. I promise. I’m here to help. I’m not going to get near you if you don’t want.”

  Her nose and mouth are bleeding. and I see tears in her eyes. the blood can’t be good, I don’t know why it’s happening, though, the only injuries were to her ankles and wrists.

  “I’m a doctor, I’m not going to hurt you,” I say.

  “He was a doctor,” she whispers.

  “He was one of the bad people,” I say, raising my other wrist, “I’m one of the good people.” I show her the tattoo, a single line, with Vindicta tattooed through the top to form a cross. “I’m here to help.”

  “Are you going to turn me in to them?” the little girl whispers. Them meaning the government. Our government are great ones for locking up things they don’t understand.

  “No,” I say, shaking my head, “I’m going to get you out of here.”

  She lets go of my hand. “Promise?”

  “Promise.” I say.

  Chapter 21

  “D

  id you use all the anti-acid kits thinking I am not getting back up?” I hope they took that cretin Leavitt off the coms and put somebody nice and pleasing whose body I want to fantasize about like oh I don’t know---Major Tom-- back on them.

  “Fuck no, Titus, we thought they looked like they taste good so we put them in a big damn gift basket for you wrapped up real nice---” they did not take him off the coms, in case you were wondering.

  “All right, fine,” I sulk. I’ve already used my emergency anti-acid kid on my face and leg, but the patches only do so much good there’s better ones on our ships. “I’m not going to keep calling if you are just going to be cruel to me.”

  “Good, good because thing is Card, I really, truly don’t want to die listening to your arrogant whiny little voice,” he hisses. I can still hear shouting and gunfire in the background damn it to hell, why haven’t the Isylgyns picked up on the communication I sent that there were Russian ships bearing down on them? I’m going to have to just call a cease fire and explain it later, at this rate.

  “I’m your ranking officer I can actually have you court martialed for that,” I say. I’m a Major, he’s only a Captain, so I can technically try but the problem is the person I’d report it to is Thorn and he says that sort of thing about me on almost a daily basis since I tricked him into flying a squadron into an asteroid which he can’t prove I did but he and I both know I did.

  “Considering I am so very dead as well as medically discharged due to lack of limbs, I couldn’t possibly care less, how is being brilliant down there going for you, by the way?” he asks, his voice is slurred.

  “How much morphine have you taken?” I ask, frowning. He shouldn’t even be conscious with the pain he’s bound to be in let alone blood loss.

  “Enough to keep me shooting the slimy bastards and talking to the slimy bastard trying to get the power back on,” he says. He’s really taking this death-discharge thing too far. The problem is he’s right I can’t actually do anything to him right now. Oh, wait, I already cut his legs off. that’s okay I can stand a little verbal abuse.

  “Yes, you’re very funny, experiencing any ghost pains from your feet which are still in our ship?” I ask, tapping on the keys of the computer bank as I eat another cookie.

  “Fantastically enough, yes, it feels like my entire lower half is being ripped apart by wild dogs, thank you so much for asking,” he says, icily, “Now, how is the power grid?”

  “Complicated, how’s Major Tom?” I ask.

  “Alive, unlike me,” Quentin says, he’s really far gone, “That’s okay, funny I never wanted to die out here. Stupid job to have when I don’t want to die in space.”

  “Yes, incredibly stupid, but then you are,” I say, reaching for another cookie.

  “If you are still eating, Card, I will crawl down there and shoot you,” he hisses.

  “I’m drinking now, actually,” I say, past swallowing the cookie, as an Isylgyn brings me a pack of milk. Not even expired. Lovely. I thank it, muting my mic so Leavitt won’t hear me.

  “Why’d you mute it?” he asks. Suspicious bastard.

  “I hit it by accident, trying to adjust the anti-acid packs on my face,” I growl.

  “Oh, they got you in the face? Nice how bad?” he asks, not sounding particularly sorry. Almost like he knows I meant to cut his legs off.

  “Not that bad, my legs are worse,” I say, moving my legs to keep the feeling in them. “You out of water yet?”

  “Have been for two hours thank you so much for bringing up such a sore subject when you know for a fact I’m dying of thirst from blood loss,” he says.

  “You’re welcome,” I say. That is of course why I brought it up.

  “Jo, I need you to help me get somebody out of the hospital tonight,” I say, tapping my earpiece. I say it as loudly as I dare, stepping into the breakroom. Nobody else is there, but I’m still on edge.

  “What---are we kidnapping somebody?” she grunts.

  “No, it’s some kid, a mutant,” I explain, “We need to get her out of here.”

  “Okay, taking a kid is the definition of ‘kidnapping’, but I’ll go with it and I want you to appreciate that there are very few people you can just randomly call up and ask to help you kidnap somebody,” she says.

  “I appreciate and love y
ou madly, room 202, I’ll create a distraction,” I say.

  “Fine, where do you want me to put the kid---you better not be thinking my place---”

  “Your place is an abandoned warehouse. We can’t put her in my flat,” I point out.

  “Okay, fine, but you have to help me feed it.”

  “Deal, see you tonight,” I say, hanging up just an orderly walks in.

  “Dr. Lutz, the night nurse left some messages for you,” the orderly says.

  “Lovely, thanks,” I say, smiling quickly, “Just put the files in my office---and would you have them send up a lunch from the cafeteria? I don’t think I’ll have time to go down today.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” the orderly says, and leaves. Good, now Jo can’t say I didn’t bring food.

  Morning PE run is usually diverting, the air is cool and fresh, and I don’t mind running. It’s relaxing a bit, and I like the way it makes my skin feel, all tingling and cold.

  “Cadet Card,” one of our instructors, a singularly unpleasant woman named Borne, walks up.

  “Yes, ma’am?” I ask, politely.

  “You’re excused from classes for the remainder of the day, in consideration for the recent tragedy,” she says. It actually takes me a few moments to realize what she’s talking about. of course my dad’s squadron is lost. He’ll come home. he promised me he would, when I asked him, he said nothing could ever stop him from coming home. So he will. He’s never broken a promise and I see no reason to believe he will now. But he said to take advantage of any little privilege they might offer me since he’s the best Spaceman in the Force.

  “Thank you, ma’am,” I say, I see Aiden craning his neck hopefully at me, “Can one of my friends come with me to my dorm? So I have someone to talk to---” I tip my head down and look sad like my dad says makes me look pathetic. We practiced one afternoon because it does not come naturally to me.

  “Ah---yes, go on,” she says, nodding Aiden who practically bounces to my side.

  “Thank you, ma’am,” I say, as the two of us back away to run back to the dorms.

  “You okay?” he asks.

  “My dad doesn’t need rescuing,” I say.

  “Okay, whatever, you want to get into trouble?”

  “Sure.”

  Chapter 22

  “D

  o you want the good news or the bad news?” I don’t usually give these choices I just give people the bad news and don’t tell them the good news because I like upsetting people but Leavitt is very high on the morphine and I want to trick him into caring because I don’t actually have any good news it’s all bad.

  “Oh, let’s have the bad news----what is it, Titus----they aren’t going to give us our choice of flowers at our funerals? Or they’re going to run out of folded flags to give our mums? And what’s the good news? We’re running out of oxygen so we might actually just suffocate before we get shot with acid by the space buggers?” Leavitt asks, okay he’s not high enough not to know me.

  “No, the bad news is the power reactor is never going back on, the Russians took all their nukes when they left this place; we got nothing you’re sitting on an empty shell,” I explain, “Where’s Tom?”

  “I’m here---give me that—

  “—but abusing him makes me so happy—”

  “----no you’ve yelled at him enough even if it is making you feel better, give---Titus just get out of there, then, how badly are you burned? Can you walk?” Tom asks, good she is there and she does love and appreciate me.

  “No---yes I can walk but I’m not leaving just yet, I’ve got a plan,” I say.

  “Ask him---ask him what the fuck the good news was---” Leavitt sounds like he’s trying to wrestle her for the com.

  “How badly are you burned?’ she asks, again.

  “Just my leg and they splattered my face, the anti-acid kit went mostly on my leg, we’ll save most of the muscle,” I say, glancing down at it as I stand. An Isylgyn runs to try to help me up and trips us both. I groan and it grunts.

  “What was that?” Tom asks, correctly hearing the little thing apologize in Isylgyn while I hit it upside the head which does not make it shut up even though that was the intention.

  “I fell down,” I say, that, “Leg’s worse than I thought but I’ll live---”

  “Yeah considering you still HAVE A LEG---”

  “He’s really not getting over that---”

  “He wouldn’t, Major Card, people don’t get over losing limbs, now do you think you could make it back up if I went and spotted for you over the computers?” she asks.

  “No---no, no don’t do that,” I say, quickly. I’ve given orders that she not be shot but I also gave orders I not be shot and look how far that got me damn it hurts to put weight on this leg. “I’m fine---stay up there, I’ve got a plan.”

  “What is it, and how likely is it to work?” she asks.

  “Ah, 63%,” I say.

  “I hate it already,” Leavitt says, sounding like he’s given up wrestling for the com.

  “Shhh, go on,” Tom says.

  “Well, all we need is a heat surge to get our ships going, right? So if I blow this place up, then we’ll get a heat surge,” I say, using small words so Leavitt can understand me.

  “I still hate it---no wait that means he’ll probably blow up, love it-----love the plan Card,” Leavitt calls.

  “Wait---Titus, blow it up with what, and how hot could you get it to burn? We need over 1000 degrees Centigrade, if we want any sort of liftoff. And you’d never be able to get out,” she says. she’s using my first name she is worried about me she thinks I might die. Not today, love. Not today.

  “I don’t know I’m sure there’s something explosive in here, and tell Leavitt not to get his hopes up, I’ll rig it to blow and be out in time to get in my ship,” I say.

  “What about the Isylgyns? You’re in a nest of them,” she says.

  “Oh, yes,” I say, looking around at about a hundred cephalopods who are looking at me expectantly. “I will look out for them.”

  “There are hundreds of them, it’s not a matter of looking out for---I’ll just come down and help you spot your way out,” Tom says, I can hear her moving to get ready.

  “No---no, stay up there, stay there,” I say, urgently, she really, really cannot see what is going on right now which is the afore mentioned hundreds of Isylgyns following me like so many loyal puppies. I could tell them to stop but when I do things like that they sort of shuffle off and look dejected and not at all convincingly like alien monsters. “We don’t need two of us lost in here, and we need as many pilots on the surface to get the wounded out. I can do this.”

  “If anybody can you can,” she agrees, heavily, “All right. Stay alive, I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Yeah, we’re flying home together,” I say, confidently, limping to the nearest computer to start looking for a way to set the place on fire.

  “Of course we are,” she says. But she doesn’t sound like she believes it. I can’t think about that now I will get her out of here I am getting her out of here. Card school of Large explosions is now in session.

  “What’d you want to do?” Aiden asks, sitting on my bed. we’re in my room because theoretically I need to be here because theoretically I’m upset. I’m not.

  “I don’t know, I’m bored,” I say, swinging on the pull up bar that’s over the door to my bathroom. We all have private rooms but they’re pretty small, one narrow bed, a dresser and a little desk a thin closet and a small bathroom. My room is decorated neatly with my favorite posters and essays on the walls. a couple of teddy bears sit on my desk, with my dad’s medals pinned to them. they give him medals for being so brave and he gives them to me. sometimes I pick them up and feel them when he’s far away. and he doesn’t feel any closer. I walk over and pick up one of the bears, feeling the cold medal. It’s the one they gave him after last time he went missing.

  “Do you really think your dad is coming back?” Aiden asks.


  “I don’t know. he said he would. He always does. He says not to worry even if they say he’s dead because he probably isn’t,” I say, sitting down in my desk chair and spinning in it. I fiddle with my shirt. I changed out of my uniform since they won’t expect me at practice, now I’m wearing one of my civilian long grey tunics, with stringy ties on the ends that are good for fiddling with.

  “I know he’s really smart and all that but---it’s been a long time that they’ve been missing. And Space Forces aren’t sending aid,” he says, quietly.

  “Yeah,” I say, shrugging, “Then he might be dead.”

  “Does that make you sad?” Aiden knows I don’t care about people like people are supposed to.

  “I don’t know. I guess not. I don’t know if it doesn’t because I don’t believe it, or it doesn’t because there’s something wrong with me,” I say, “And since it doesn’t make me sad I guess I don’t care.”

  “Okay,” he says, “Just trying to be a good friend.”

  “That’s nice, thanks,” I say, nodding, “Let’s go and do something, though, I really don’t want to just sit around waiting for them to declare my dad dead.”

  “Okay, you want to go and visit Billy?” he asks, eagerly, sitting up. Billy has been sick and he’s in the hospital in the Capital. Last he messaged us, the doctors were still running tests.

  “Yeah, let’s go surprise him,” I say, eagerly, going into my closet for my civilian clothes, I toss some pants and a sweatshirt at him, “Get changed, I’ll create a distraction.”

  “What sort of distraction?” he asks, pulling off his shirt.

  “A distracting one!”

  Chapter 23

  I enter the hospital room quietly. As Shannon predicted, the little girl is lying in the bed, bandaged like Jesus, hands and ankles wrapped, her side bloodied, her neck red and bruised, and her forehead scarred from what looked like barbed wire. She’s asleep soundly, though, despite the injuries. Shannon said she’d have her heavily medicated so I can take her away, but I’m still wary. The government fears the mutants for a reason. not a great one, but it is still a reason. They are powerful and after what this little girl has been through, I wouldn’t blame her for wanting to lash out.