Aurora (The Exodus Trilogy)

by Andreas Christensen

  Tina looked around. Port Hammer had awoken, and everyone seemed busy with one task or another. There were a thousand different tasks to be done, and not nearly enough time. Tina gave it another moment before she decided enough was enough. The longer they lingered, the less time they would have to escape the soldiers, which had to be the number one priority. She let out a deep breath as she realized this was the end of this town she had built.

  “All right, everyone,” she shouted, loudly so that everyone would hear.

  “Time to go. No more time, folks. Whatever you haven’t already packed, just leave it.” As she watched everyone picking up their belongings and start moving out, she wondered how these people would manage out there in the unknown. She sighed before she picked up her own backpack, encouraging others while desperately trying to keep up her own spirits.

  BEN WATERS

  Ben vaguely felt a drop of water on his cheek, making him slowly open his eyes. The light stung, but his eyes quickly adjusted, and he could make out the branches above. The sky was blue and Cancri’s rays warm. For a moment, he thought it was summer still, but then he remembered Harry, and his mood sank as the bits and pieces of what had happened started falling into place.

  The last thing he remembered was reaching Port Hammer, with Lisa and Drew. They had finally been happy, free. The first time he had felt that way since Harry died. Then suddenly, another memory made him jump. The masks! They had removed the masks. He reached up to touch his face, and discovered his hands were restrained by something. He moved his neck slightly and realized he was tucked into a sleeping bag. He looked around and saw tired-looking people sitting nearby, drinking hot brew and eating. Some were cradling guns on their laps. Some were sleeping.

  He managed to get his left hand up to the zipper and opened the bag. Then he carefully sat up. He realized he was on a sled attached to a snowmobile. For some reason, he knew he’d been sick. Why else would he be tucked in like this? But he didn’t feel sick. On the contrary, now that he noticed, he felt better than ever, except for a slight blurring of his vision that sort of came and went. He touched his face and found his mask securely in place again. He hesitated for a second, and then ripped it off. He filled his lungs with the cold air, and savored the sweetness once again. Yes, that was it. He needed the air. Something in him made him crush the mask in his hand, cracking the delicate filter within. He felt a deep hate toward the mask, as if threatened by its very existence. Then he shook it off, and wondered what he’d been thinking. He looked around. No one had noticed. He let the mask fall to the ground and freed himself from the sleeping bag.

  He took a tentative step, before realizing his feet were bare. Strange. The cold didn’t touch him. He took another step, and then an impulse made him reach for his backpack. It was strapped to the back of the sled, and he unclipped the lashes that kept it in place. Then he lifted it up, and his eyes widened. It was too light. He opened it, to check if someone had removed anything. But no, everything was just as he’d packed it. He picked it up again, and realized it wasn’t any lighter that it had been. It was he who was stronger. Actually, he felt super fit! He let the backpack drop to the ground and took another step, still barefoot, and another, and another. Whatever it was, it made him laugh as he quickened his pace. He realized people were staring, but he didn’t care. He ran, an easy pace at first, but before he knew it, he was running faster than he’d ever run before. And he wasn’t even exerting himself. After five or ten minutes, he stopped in a clearing and felt his pulse. No higher than usual. This was getting a little freaky.

  “What the hell are you doing?” he heard a voice bark from behind him. He hadn’t realized someone had followed, but when he turned around, he saw a woman, black, forty-something, slowing down from her sprint. A man, younger, came behind, clearly having trouble keeping up, based on his heavy panting.

  “And why have you removed the mask? Again?” Ben felt anger well up in him, but he forced it down. This was Tina Hammer. She had welcomed them to Port Hammer, and he remembered the way she’d been there for them when they had escaped Earth in the last shuttle. He didn’t know why he felt so angry, but something about her scared him, and he wanted to keep his distance from her. He took a step back. She stopped, surprise apparent in her face.

  “What is it? Hey, kid, I’m not gonna hurt you. If you wanna die from the parasite, that’s your call. Just thought you should know.” She looked down on his feet.

  “Wow, that looks cold…” she said. He suddenly laughed.

  “Yeah, you would think so,” he said slowly.

  “Parasite you say… In the air?” She nodded. Ben flexed his fingers, his arms, and looked down at his own bare feet. Still untouched by the cold. The snow felt soft between his toes. He looked around the empty forest, realizing everything looked more vivid, the colors stronger and contrasts sharper. His vision blurred again, as it had back on the sled. He blinked a few times, and the blurring faded. Something made him look up. A rahrah flew high above, and as he focused, he suddenly felt something happening to his vision again. The rahrah seemed to draw closer, out of focus, and then sharp as if it had been just a few meters in front of him. Like he’d just... zoomed in on it.

  “My God,” he whispered. “My eyes…” Then he looked at Tina again, vision adjusting.

  “I don’t know about parasites, Major…” he said. “I just… Look, my feet are bare, I just ran faster than I’ve ever been able to, and I didn’t even get tired.” He laughed.

  “And that rahrah, it looked like it was no more than five meters away from me…” Tina said nothing. He shook his head firmly.

  “I have no idea what’s happening to me, but it feels great. Whatever it is, it’s no parasite, that’s for sure.” Tina took a step closer, then stopped. It looked like she was going to say something, but she kept her mouth shut.

  “Major, where are we?” he said. “Last thing I remember is coming to Port Hammer with Lisa and Drew. Where are they anyway?” he asked. He suddenly felt a chill in his bones that didn’t come from the cool gusts that never seemed to touch him.

  “Are they okay?” he almost whispered.

  “They are fine, Ben,” Tina said, smiling.

  “From what I gather, they haven’t run anywhere either. But I think they are affected the same way you are.” Her smile vanished, and her face darkened.

  “We are somewhere in the Rockies, the mountains north of Port Hammer. They came for us,” she said. He motioned for her to continue.

  “Ben, we had to leave last night. Admiral Hamilton took an armed force to hold the Trickler, to buy us time.” She looked sad, Ben thought. As if she didn’t expect the admiral to return. An urge welled up in him again.

  “Let us go,” he said. When Tina looked at him quizzically, he went on.

  “Me, Lisa, and Drew. We’ve seen war before. We know how to handle ourselves. I guess the admiral could use all the manpower he could get. You’ve seen what we can do. We could make a difference.” Tina smiled, a sad smile that immediately told him what her answer would be.

  “Ben, I can’t let you do that,” she said.

  “They are doing this for us, and much as I hate it, I have to accept it. But I won’t let you go. You just woke up. Besides, you’re too young, especially Miss Hayden…” Anger stopped him from hearing the rest.

  “Fuck it, I don’t have time for this,” he said, almost to himself, and darted around her. It took him less time to return to the camp, and he saw no sign of Tina following as he discovered Lisa and Drew by the snowmobile.

  “Hey, where did you go?” Drew shouted. Ben didn’t answer. He looked around and saw a woman whose shoulders slumped as if she was falling asleep where she sat. She had a gun on her lap. He went over to her and snatched the weapon from her. Her eyes opened as she almost fell backward. He didn’t wait for her, as he snatched another two guns from some fellows he’d never seen before. He gave one of the guns to Lisa, another to Drew, and checked the magazine on the one he kep
t for himself. A full hundred. That would just have to do.

  “Follow me,” he said. Lisa seemed to have caught on, and she looked as enthusiastic as he felt. Drew was a little slower, but he followed him nevertheless.

  “Going hunting?” Drew almost laughed, as he stumbled after the others. Ben grinned, adrenaline surging through his veins.

  “Yeah, Drew. We’re going hunting.”

  GREG HAMILTON

  The morning brought no warmth on the cold ground, but Cancri’s rays made the fresh snow in the treetops drip down on their heads. Greg adjusted his hood to keep the icy droplets off his face and neck. Then he continued to peer out from his cover, toward the trees on the far bank, where the soldiers were coming. The noise had been growing steadily for a while, and he expected to see them soon. This was the best place to cross the ice safely with motorized transport, which was why they had set up here, on the north bank of the Trickler.

  He didn’t need to look around him to know the covers of his companions were equally well hidden. These were a mix of everything from former soldiers to crewmen of the Exodus to carpenters and scientists, but he had made sure everyone had a good position where they could observe and fire without being easily spotted. They didn’t have the heavy firepower of the soldiers from Fort Andrews, but with the element of surprise on their side, they might give them a thorough beating, which hopefully would stall them enough to give Tina and her group enough time to get away. He even expected most of these brave men and women to get away also, if everything worked out. They had a decent evac route, and the soldiers would have a hard time following them up the hillside to the north with their snowmobiles and heavy equipment. But there were a lot of ifs…

  The first soldiers to exit the woods were on foot, lightly armed scouts, who took up positions close to the frozen waters. His people held their fire, waiting, just as he had told them to. Then the rumbling of engines got louder, and a group of snowmobiles appeared. The scouts went slowly forward, onto the ice. Greg noticed they had night-vision optics fitted to their AMR-17 combat rifles, as expected. Well, it would be of limited use to them. Had they come during the night, they would have had a tactical advantage, but now they had to use the regular laser sights. Everyone had laser sights, even the cook on his left, a heavyset woman of perhaps forty, with a determined look in her eyes. He smiled wryly. Determination and dedication could be the decisive factors today.

  He waited until the fifth snowmobile was well onto the ice. There would be more coming, but the closest of the scouts had almost reached the north bank, and Greg knew it was time. They couldn’t afford close combat, not if they could avoid it. He fired the first shot at the soldier driving the closest snowmobile. The soldier slumped, and the snowmobile veered to the right, as it sped up, running over one of the scouts. There was confusion out there on the ice, as more of his people opened fire. Every one of the scouts fell within seconds, since they were the closest targets. Two of the snowmobiles lost their drivers, and crashed into each other. A few seconds later, they went up in a blaze, either from the sparks of ruptured wires or the shots fired into the explosive fuel. Black smoke clouded the area, and he moved his sights to the soldiers further back, who were firing in their general direction without much effect.

  Within moments though, the soldiers seemed to realize where the fire was coming from, and they started returning fire in a more disciplined way, as expected. Greg saw the cook become too eager, forgetting her cover as she fired quick bursts at the soldiers. A single shot felled her, as the back of her head exploded, blood spraying the brush and wood behind her. Strangely, her chest kept heaving though, as he turned away from her. Nothing to be done for her. He set his eye to the sights again, making sure he kept his head down.

  Another snowmobile was burning, and the last of the five had turned and was racing back toward the far bank. Greg trained his rifle on the driver and squeezed off three rounds. Missed. As the snowmobile reached the tree line, Greg noticed most of the soldiers were either down or scrambling for cover on the other side. They had beaten the first wave, which would buy Tina and her group a little time. He knew the soldiers would be back, and the next time, they would come in heavy. He didn’t know if they could stand up to that, but they had planned to try until he deemed it futile. Who knew how long they could hold. He looked over toward the now-dead cook and grimaced. That would be the fate waiting for all of them if he didn’t assess the situation well and break contact at the right moment. Still, they had won a small victory, about which they should be glad. He guessed there were a lot of people who thought they had won the battle, especially those with no combat experience. Still there were no cheers or any other sound. Good.

  The minutes passed slowly, and there was little movement on the south bank. The soldiers were probably assessing their losses, searching for their positions, planning for an attack. But time passed, which was a good thing. Every minute that passed was a minute that Tina and the rest could use to put distance between themselves and Port Hammer.

  He heard a loud noise. The first thing that came to his mind was a microphone being held too close to a speaker, causing feedback. And just as he squinted toward the tree line on the south bank, he heard the amplified voice, a familiar voice.

  “This is Ramon Solis speaking.” Greg gritted his teeth. He’d liked Ramon. But he knew he was loyal to Havelar. He hadn’t expected him now though. Solis wasn’t a soldier.

  “Put down your weapons, and you will not be harmed.” A few seconds went by. Greg waited for what would come next.

  “We don’t want to harm you, but this ends right now. Admiral Hamilton, Major Hammer, I know you are listening, come out and let’s talk.” Greg felt his stomach clench. Or what, he thought.

  “Very well. You have five minutes. If you don’t surrender immediately, you will have to face the consequences. Make no mistake, this ends today.” Then Greg heard a click, and the speaker went dead. He had expected more, and the silence that followed gave him a bad feeling. He gave a quick hand signal to the man on his right, who nodded and crept over to Kim Leffard, who was lying in her cover further to the right. Kim quickly approached Greg, keeping her head low and her rifle ready. She was an experienced soldier, and she acted the part.

  “Sir,” she said in a low voice, as she reached him.

  “Leffard, something is up,” Greg said, keeping his eyes on the far bank.

  “I want you to take Fred and Josie right now, and get to that first hill on the evac route. I want you to observe, just in case.” Kim looked at him quizzically, but she was too loyal to question his orders.

  “Major Hammer needs to know what happens here, and since all comms are down, I’m counting on you to tell her. Just in case I won’t be able to.” She almost started to protest, but nodded, and crept quickly over to the other two. Less than a minute later, he caught a glimpse of them, as the three made their way north through the thicket. Good, he thought. Whatever happened here, Tina would get word of it. Then his mind went back to the task at hand, while continuously scanning the tree line on the south bank for movement. He looked at his watch. Almost seven minutes had passed since Solis had last spoken.

  The silence was broken by two loud bangs, quickly followed by another two. He saw the smoke from the rockets as they flew from within the forest to the south and across the sky toward them. A voice to his far left screamed.

  “Incoming!” He buried his face in the dirt and snow, keeping his arms above his head to protect it, waiting for the rockets to hit their targets. The sounds of the explosions were weaker than expected, and he lifted his head slightly. Had they been lucky this time? Perhaps it was time to consider withdrawing to the hills? Then he saw the soldiers entering the ice, only this time, they seemed to be wearing some kind of suits… His eyes widened as realization came to him, just as he felt the first itch. He scratched his forearm, breathing heavily. Not a sound escaped his lips. The fabric of his jacket sleeve dissolved beneath his fingers. Then he felt the
burning sensation in his fingertips, only seconds before the pain reached his arm, his neck. Before he could react to it, he felt the sensation reach his face, his eyes blurring over, his mouth on fire. Then the air filter of his mask seemed to clog up, and no more air reached his lungs. The pain became excruciating, and he tried to scream. A deep primal sound barely escaped his lips before his throat constricted, burning, and swelling until no air would pass through. He ripped off his facemask, but to no avail. Before his vision failed him, he saw his hands dissolving into bloody, almost liquid gore. In the darkness, all sounds seemed to amplify, and the last sounds he ever heard were the screams of his companions, with a smattering of shots interspersed, as those who still could turned their guns on themselves. Then his entire being exploded in agony, every second an eternity until blissful numbness finally engulfed him.

  Chapter 12

  THOMAS DUNN

  It had been almost a week since they reached this place. While most were fleeing Port Hammer, Dean Johnson and a small team had scouted a large area in the Rockies. When they found what they were searching for, they hurried back to tell the exhausted refugees of this spot, where they could be safe for the time being.

  Thomas had just returned from a two-day patrol on the far side of the lake to the west, and was finishing up a hearty meal when he heard commotion outside. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and nodded a quick “thank you” to the woman coming to take away his plate before exiting the tent. He was sort of disappointed when the sounds turned out to be two of the men building cabins, arguing over some detail or another. He had hoped it was Benjamin Waters and his team of youngsters returning. He had only met them once since he’d arrived in Port Hammer, and he was curious about the extraordinary abilities he’d been hearing about. They had been sick, everyone told him, from breathing the unfiltered air of this planet. When they finally woke up from their fever, they were able to run faster than any human being, see sharper and further than anyone could imagine, and they had the quickest reactions. He’d been told all this and more, but he wanted to see for himself. He wasn’t entirely sure everything was true, but even if half of it were, it was some really strange effects.