Martian Quadrilogy Box Set

by Brandon Ellis

  They had to run for it.

  Ozzy opened the pod door and wiggled out and into the weapons room. He rushed into the hall and to the lobby where the crates were scattered.

  Zeld came running down the hall.

  “Where’s Jozi?” he asked.

  She thumbed over her shoulder toward the bridge. “Grabbing the energy finder thingy.”

  Ozzy hustled to the crate that held the Ark. He flicked a switch on the crate, and the crate hovered into the air. Ozzy put his hands on it just as Jozi came running down the hall with a holopad in her hand and two rifles strapped to her back.

  Zeld pressed the ramp button. It hissed and opened, making a thudding sound when it landed against the ground.

  Jozi tossed Ozzy one of the rifles.

  “Wait, why don’t I get one?” asked Zeld, her brows furrowed.

  Ozzy looked her up and down. She had two sidearms holstered to her belt, two swords sheathed to her back, plus daggers, concussion grenades, and small guns attached to straps around her legs.

  She had enough weapons for a platoon.

  Ozzy pushed the crate forward. “You’re fine.”

  Zeld scowled. “I’ll remember this, Ozzy.”

  Ozzy continued pushing and rolled his eyes. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Hold illogical grudges much?”

  Jozi rushed down the ramp, her weapon out front like she was about to burst through a door. Her Mars Ministry Police training was obviously taking over.

  Ozzy moved halfway down the ramp and halted. The ground rumbled, and sounds of photon boosters filled the air. “The Dunrakee ships are on top of us.”

  Ozzy dashed down the ramp, pushing the hovercrate onward. A burning tank was fifty meters in front of him, thanks to a few well-placed Grizzly missiles on his and Jozi’s part.

  He averted his eyes and followed Jozi. She zigzagged toward a tree line to their south, a tree line untouched by Ozzy’s and Jozi’s weapon’s pod punishment.

  Ozzy turned, glaring at the heavens. Smoke from the enduring fire was graying the sky.

  That was good. Hopefully, it would blind the incoming craft for a few minutes.

  Zeld’s feet pounded on the ground behind Ozzy. He kept his neck craned to the sky. Through the smoke, he could see a small fleet approaching. They were like dots on the horizon but getting bigger.

  “Watch out,” yelled Jozi.

  Ozzy twisted around.

  A Dunrakee stepped out from behind a tree. Ozzy crouched and pulled his rifle off of his shoulder.

  He fumbled and dropped on his rear. The rifle landed in his lap.

  Wapooh!

  The Dunrakee lurched back. His weapon hit the ground, and he slumped to the forest floor—dead.

  Jozi lowered her rifle and continued running. “Hurry up, you two.”

  Zeld ran past Ozzy. He pushed to his feet and guided the crate forward as quickly as he could.

  “Fifty more meters,” yelled Jozi.

  The ground shook more, and the sound of the approaching ships grew louder. They’d be strafing and bombing the meadow in less than ten seconds.

  “Come on, Ozzy,” screamed Jozi. “Not much time.”

  Ozzy steered the crate, his legs burning. He wasn’t used to running in such dense gravity.

  Karooosh! Karooosh!

  Missiles soared from the oncoming craft.

  Ozzy held his breath.

  Only a few more steps.

  Baroom!

  The Eagle was hit. He didn’t have to look to know.

  Ozzy pushed the crate into the tree line, and a gush of energy lifted him off his feet, throwing a ball of heat against his back and shoving him into a tree.

  He bounced off the trunk and spun to the ground.

  He lost his breath and, for a moment, was paralyzed as he watched the Eagle through the cracks in the tree limbs. The camouflage had blinked off, exposing what was left of the giant ship.

  A secondary explosion tore through the side of the craft. Another concussion blew fire out the bow and stern, sending metallic chunks, crates, and engine parts into the sky and over the meadow.

  The ship’s armor quickly melted and dripped to the ground, lighting the grass on fire.

  Baroom!

  A third internal explosion went off, sending a fire cloud into the air. It loomed over the meadow like the shape of a mushroom.

  Unlike Mars, the atmosphere on Earth was thick. The fire didn’t die down, and it actually expanded.

  This was new to Ozzy, and his eyes widened the more the fire grew.

  Ozzy crawled backward, his mind spinning.

  A starfighter broke from the fleet’s formation. It dipped its nose, heading in for a strafe run.

  “Get back, get back,” ordered Jozi.

  Ozzy continued to crawl backward, his eyes fixated on the incoming starfighter.

  Zeld dove to the side. She scooted behind a tree, sitting against it and hugging her knees close to her body to make herself as small as possible.

  Zoota! Zoota!

  Photon blasts shot from the starfighter’s wings, penetrating the meadow and sending globs of dirt and grass into the air.

  Ozzy crawled at a faster pace. The starfighter didn’t let up and continued pounding shot after shot into the ground, and the photon blasts came closer and closer toward him.

  “Find cover, Ozzy,” yelled Jozi, leaping behind a tree.

  But it was too late.

  Zoota!

  A photon beam landed several meters in front of him just past the edge of the forest and into the thick trees.

  He curled into a ball.

  “Ozzy!” Jozi rushed out from behind the tree and jumped in Ozzy’s direction.

  He put his hands out, trying to stop her. “Jozi, no.”

  She landed next to him and pushed Ozzy out of the way. An explosion ripped into the forest, throwing Ozzy against another tree. He ricochetted off of it, bouncing hard on the forest floor and yelping in pain.

  He cringed and rolled on his stomach, his palms on the ground readying to push himself into a standing position and run his ass as far into the forest as he could get.

  He stopped and caught sight of Jozi.

  She was on the ground next to the crate—motionless. Her jumpsuit was ripped in several places from her pant’s leg all the way up her side. Through the rips, her skin was red and blistered; scorched from the photon’s impact.

  Smoke wafted off of her skin and clothes. Because of him, another person had died.

  10

  Earth • Ancient Athapaskan Land, California

  The starfighter roared over Ozzy’s position and soared high into the heavens.

  Ozzy blinked. Jozi was on the ground with her eyes closed and her breaths coming in short bursts.

  She was alive.

  He pushed himself up and hurried over to her.

  He touched her neck, feeling for her carotid artery. Her heartbeat was slow but under the circumstances somewhat normal.

  The fleet’s engines rumbled across the forest and flew over Ozzy’s location and toward the horizon. Their underbelly aft thrusters lit the meadow in light-blue colors. They were coming in for a landing, most likely to check the wreckage, carry away their dead and wounded, and maybe search for any human survivors.

  Zeld came out from behind the tree and stared at the landing ships. “Leave her. Our mission is to get the sphere and get out.”

  Ozzy bared his teeth. “Our mission is also to kill the Dunrakee swine.” He clenched his fists then uncurled his fingers and shook Jozi.

  “Then kill all of them now.”

  Ozzy shot Zeld a look. Not only did he not like being ordered around by her snake-like voice, but he also couldn’t do what she wanted. “That’s why we need the sphere, genius. We can’t direct the Ark’s power with the energy focus we need to rid this planet of the Dunrakee until we put that sphere inside the Ark. Got it?”

  “Fine, but leave her,” she repeated. She tapped the energy array holopad, whic
h had somehow appeared in her hands. She must have picked it up after Jozi was nearly blown to pieces saving his sorry ass. “Jozi can fend for herself when she wakes.”

  “Not a chance, doll.” He picked up Jozi and threw her over his shoulder. He grunted from the weight and walked to the crate where he pressed a button, and the crate lifted into a hover. “Let’s go.”

  “Put her on the ground, Ozzy,” demanded Zeld.

  Ozzy stepped back. “What are you doing?”

  She held a gun, pointing it at Jozi’s head. “She’s a nuisance if not a complete distraction to this mission. Drop her or I kill her. It’s up to you.”

  Ozzy froze, and Jozi moved an inch. It was subtle, and Ozzy could tell Zeld didn’t see it. He glanced off at the ships, which had landed. Several Dunrakee were outside, taking readings with a variety of devices.

  None were heading his way.

  Jozi moved again and wiped her hair out of her face. “What’s going on?”

  “Put her down and leave her, Ozzy, and let’s get going.”

  Ozzy didn’t budge.

  “Three seconds, Ozzy. Then, bam, your beautiful girlfriend is bloody and dead.”

  “Put me down,” whispered Jozi.

  “Two seconds,” said Zeld.

  Ozzy cleared his throat. “Alright. Alright.” He slowly lowered Jozi to the ground, placing her feet on the forest floor.

  Jozi slipped her hand onto Ozzy’s sidearm and unclipped it.

  Jozi turned, her lips pursed, and she had Ozzy’s gun extended, targeting Zeld. “Let’s see who can pull the trigger faster, shall we?”

  There was pain in Jozi’s voice, and Ozzy could tell her injuries hurt.

  Zeld narrowed her eyes. “I don’t think you want to take that chance.”

  Ozzy unholstered his other sidearm and pointed it at Zeld as well.

  Zeld huffed. “Fine, gorgeous. You want to play it that way?” She gave Ozzy a sensual smile. “You could have had me all to yourself.”

  “Ozzy Mack,” a voice said from the holopad, the display changing from crystalline energy signatures to Jonas’s face.

  “What in Mars-balls are you three doing? This isn’t an old western shootout. This is business. You don’t finish my mission, you don’t get paid,” he said, his face turning red.

  Ozzy glanced at his employer. “Keep your voice down. The Dunrakee aren’t far from us.”

  “Get my crystal sphere, and kill the Dunrakee with the Ark, then fly home. You got it?” said Jonas.

  Ozzy looked off at the destroyed Eagle. “Well, there’s a problem. We don’t have—”

  “I don’t care about problems and, yeah, there are probably lots of them,” interrupted Jonas. “And, Zeld, if Ozzy doesn’t come back alive, then you don’t get paid. Got it?”

  Jonas’s face blipped off the screen before Zeld could reply. The crystalline energy signatures reappeared in his place.

  Zeld lowered her weapon, letting out an exasperated breath. “You heard the man. Let’s go.”

  Jozi rubbed her face, wincing. She glanced at her leg and side. They were burnt, and the blisters were turning red and getting worse.

  “Sorry, Jozi, those wounds must hurt like hell.”

  She straightened her lips, not saying a word.

  “We need to bury the crate,” said Ozzy.

  “Do you have a shovel or something?” Zeld asked.

  “No.” Ozzy holstered his gun and held out his hands. “We have these.”

  11

  Earth • Ancient Athapaskan Land, California

  Ozzy dragged the crate around trees, under branches, and over small dirt mounds. Ferns were everywhere, but the crate holding the Ark pushed the plants easily out of the way.

  They were deep into the forest, and birds and small critters were yakking it up, making sounds Ozzy had only heard on docuvids.

  Light trickled and glistened through the trees, and insects sang their soothing songs in the background.

  If he weren’t on a mission to kill every living Dunrakee soul on Earth, he’d sit, watch, and listen to all the beauty around him.

  This was his planet—his home. He couldn’t wait to give it back to his people.

  “Right here,” said Ozzy, pointing his index finger at a dirt mound in front of him.

  Zeld stopped walking and put her hands on her hips. “You want to bury it here?”

  “You heard the man,” said Jozi, bending over and biting her lower lip, doing her best to hide her pain. She laid her hands on the mound and started digging.

  Ozzy bent down, grabbed a gob of dirt, and threw it over his shoulder.

  Wapooh! Wapooh!

  Soil slammed into Ozzy. He leaped back, falling against Jozi. They tumbled and rolled into a handful of bushes. They pulled out their guns.

  Zeld was standing over the mound, a photon pistol in each of her hands. Two large pockmarks were in the middle of the hole. “I say this way is faster.”

  Ozzy stood. “What are you doing? You’ll alert the Dunrakee.”

  She threw a dismissive hand and shot another large divot into the mound. “They’re nowhere near us now.”

  Wapooh!

  This time Zeld jumped out of the way, and dirt chunks plastered against her jumpsuit.

  Jozi stood over the mound. Smoke drifted from her gun’s muzzle. “She’s got a point.”

  Ozzy shrugged. “If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.”

  They took turns turning the mound into a crater-sized hole and deep enough for a meter of soil to cover the top.

  Ozzy hovered the crate into the hole and moved the loose dirt over it to hide it completely.

  Zeld held the holopad and pressed a few buttons. A holographic image shot upward. It was a map. Two red dots floated near each other. The smaller dot was nearby and clearly in the forest. The larger dot was west of the smaller dot.

  Zeld held her finger over the dot in the forest. “The crystal sphere is that one.”

  “How can you be so sure?” asked Jozi.

  “Because I know energy signatures, honey. You think a small crystal sphere is going to have a big energy signature?” She shook her head. “I think not.”

  Ozzy nodded. “I’d trust her on this one, Jozi. She knows her artifacts and how to find them.”

  “Well, so do you, Ozzy,” responded Jozi.

  “And it’s only a kilometer away,” Zeld said, taking a step over the mound and heading northwest.

  They rounded a massive tree and came to a small, leaf- and needle-covered clearing.

  A wooden shack with a caved-in, moss-covered roof and busted windows was set back against a small ridge that sloped downward.

  A bald eagle called and swooped to a nest atop a tree bordering the house. A squirrel scurried after another squirrel, and they ran up the same tree, their tails flicking and twitching.

  The holopad beeped. Zeld glanced at it and grinned. “It says the crystalline energy signature is coming from inside the shack.”

  Ozzy kicked a dead branch aside and trekked onward, heading for a red-painted door hanging from one rusty hinge.

  Jozi followed.

  Zeld stayed back, fixing something on her boot. “Keep going. I think it’s at the back of the shack. I’ll catch up.”

  Ozzy pushed the door open, and the hinge broke. The doorframe splintered, and the door plopped against him. He caught it and set it aside. “Watch your step.” He took a step forward, cracking broken glass under his boot.

  The floor moaned and creaked as they walked inside and was warped from probably too much rain and not enough care.

  Ozzy passed through the entryway and entered the kitchen. He gasped and lurched back. In a nook attached to the kitchen was a table where three skeletons, fully clothed, were sitting in chairs and slumped over.

  One body was small. It was the size of a four- or five-year-old child. The other two were adults. They were clearly human, and several holes littered their skulls.

  It was apparent they had bee
n murdered, but who knows how long ago. Most likely, this was a family who didn’t make it to the colony ships when humans escaped to Mars a hundred years ago.

  Ozzy put his hand up. “Dead people.”

  Jozi frowned. “What?”

  “Skeletons, three o’clock.”

  She walked into the kitchen and put her hand to her throat. “They were killed Dunrakee style. Two shots to each temple as if one shot wasn’t enough.”

  Ozzy nodded. “It’s in the Dunrakee myths. One to kill the physical body. The next shot to kill the soul.”

  The Dunrakee weren’t only a mad, genocidal race, they were evil. Here was more proof.

  He couldn’t imagine the fear in the little child’s eyes. Hopefully, they took him or her out first, so the kid didn’t have to bear witness to his or her parent’s death.

  It made Ozzy sick. If he had any doubts about not using the Ark of the Concordant on the Dunrakee, they disappeared in one fail swoop here and now.

  He walked over to the table and picked up an old holopaper that sat next to the larger skeleton. It was a round disk, much like the old compact discs of the distant past. All news used to be downloaded over the internet and onto these devices.

  He tapped it. A hologram extended from the disc and hovered in front of Ozzy and Jozi. “March 2591,” said a newscaster. He wore a shirt and tie, and his hair was disheveled, and he had bags under his eyes. His skin was pale, and the dark circles that ringed his eyes seemed to glow and appeared as a beacon to his tiredness. No, not tired, he was exhausted. “The colony ships have departed. I’m one of the last broadcasters to remain. I’m attempting to live underground with the resistance on our beautiful planet.”

  Tears formed on the man’s face, and he swallowed down a cry. “My family has left. Yes, they were one of the lucky ones able to flee without being harmed, but only a tenth of our colony ships made it past the Dunrakee offensive. Don’t be afraid. Don’t be. The Dunrakee have pillaged Earth, and our defenses were beaten, but our spirit will live on. That’s the human way.” He put his hand in the air and saluted the viewers. “I’m Carl Grove, signing off for good. May God be with you. May you and your families survive.”