Mars Rising (Domeworld Saga Book 1)

by John Corwin

  Max tried to roll away, but he and the deer were tangled together to the end. He desperately grabbed the deer around the throat and dragged it sideways, but it was too late. Hammer-shaped feet pounded past, throwing mud into the air. Knowing it was futile to cover his head, Max looked up at the great gray beasts as they veered around him and went to the water.

  Three miniature versions of the creatures trotted past. One of them raised its nose and prodded him curiously. A blast from the nose of one of the adults sent it racing away after them. With huge splashes and a chorus of nose blasts, the elephants went into the water where they frolicked like children. Max marveled at how they sucked water into their noses and showered it out on themselves. He was so preoccupied with them that it took a moment before he realized the deer he'd tangled with wasn't moving.

  His prey, its neck broken, heaved a last breath and went still.

  "Reckon I'll get a meal out of this after all." Max tugged the horn free of the feeding suit then spent a moment locating his rocks. He dragged the carcass back to the cliff while the giants played in the pool.

  A pair of large crocodiles crawled onto the opposite shore away from the elephants. Big as the crocs were, they'd lose in a fight with one of the gray beasts.

  Max slung the deer across his shoulders and, using the cracks and crevices, climbed to the top of the cliff. He set down the deer, then went back down and retrieved his rocks. Once safely back at the top, he went to butchering the deer, using the same hacking method he'd used on the goat.

  Shoulders and arms aching, he flopped down on his back next to a pile of bloody meat. It had taken him an hour, but he finally had food. Now all he had to do was eat it. His stomach grumbled hungrily but twisted in revulsion at the thought of what he had to do.

  Max sat up and took a small piece of dripping meat. He rinsed it in the water until most of the blood washed away. "Probably better than the rations in the dome," he said. His stomach wasn't convinced. He licked his lips and popped the meat in his mouth.

  A strong coppery taste filled his mouth and his throat revolted. Max gagged and coughed the meat into his hand. He pounded a fist on the ground and clenched his teeth. "Damn it, I need to eat!" Max shoved the meat back into his mouth and chewed, chewed, chewed, ferociously fighting his gag reflex. His taste buds finally accepted the strong taste and his stomach stopped twisting.

  Max swallowed and waited. It stayed down. He ate another small piece and another until he'd had enough. It wasn't the worst meal he'd ever eaten. In fact, it tasted pretty good once he got past the thought of eating raw meat. Maybe this life wouldn't be so bad. He'd survived the airlock. He could survive the wilderness.

  Standing on top of the cliff, Max raised a fist and roared, "I will survive!"

  A shimmering blaster bolt whined from the forest and nearly took off his head.

  Chapter 24

  Max dropped to his stomach.

  Another bolt of red light flashed overhead and blackened the water tunnel entrance. It seemed Alderman had sent someone after him. For all Max knew, a dozen armed people were closing in around the cliff. It looked like he'd only postponed his death for a day. Something clinked on the ground next to him and rolled to the water tunnel.

  Max didn't know what it was, and he wasn't waiting around to find out.

  He sprang to his feet and leapt off the cliff. An explosion rocked the air and a blast of heat slammed into his back. He flipped forward and smacked hard into the water, missing one of the boulders by inches. Consciousness fled for an instant and returned in a rush. He thrust his legs a few times and his head broke the water

  The elephants blasted their noses in alarm and thundered into the forest. The herd of deer sprang away. The crocodiles slithered back into the water, only a few yards from Max's position.

  Max kicked his feet and flailed his arms desperately until he could stand in the muddy shallows. He ducked behind a boulder and looked to the far end of the pond where the blaster shots had come from. A man in green shorts and matching shirt dodged behind a tree as the stampede of animals thundered past.

  When the activity died down, the man edged around the tree and peered toward the pond. He stared at it for several seconds, and Max realized the man was looking for a body. Shouldering a black blaster rifle with a long muzzle and scope, the man strode from the tree and went up to the water's edge. He frowned, eyes scanning the pond.

  "I know you're around here somewhere," he said in a strange accent. "Make it easy on yourself and come out."

  Max glanced across the twenty yards separating him from the fringe of bushes at the edge of the forest. He could probably make it before the man shot him, provided there weren't more people waiting nearby. If the man had company with him, why hadn't they come out of the forest yet? Surely, they would have all opened fire on his position.

  It was now or never. Max crept to the side of the boulder and peeked around the reeds growing there.

  A laser bolt sang past and sand exploded inches away.

  "You're trapped," the man said. "Surrender and I'll end it quickly. Force me to come over there, and I'll use my hunting knife."

  "Who are you?" Max shouted. "Did Alderman send you?"

  "Alderman?" The man sounded confused. "Never heard of him. As for me, I'm Ranger Creed, and you, my friend, are a contamination in the jungle habitat."

  "What the hell is a jungle?" Max shouted.

  "You're in it, you bloody buffoon." The ranger grunted. "You know damned well maintenance workers aren't allowed in the habitat."

  Maintenance workers? "I'm not with maintenance," Max said. "I'm from City 7."

  "City 7?" Creed's voice rose incredulously. "Making up stories won't save you, my friend. You broke the rules, so come out and pay the price. I'm afraid the scientists are rather strict about violating the sanctity of the reserve."

  If this place was a jungle habitat, did that mean there were others like it, just with different environments? The zoo had dozens of micro-habitat displays ranging from grasslands to deserts, to forests. He didn't remember one labeled as a jungle, but there were too many to remember. "Are there other habitats like this one?" Max asked.

  "I grow tired of the bloody Q and A," Creed said. "Come out now and I'll make this quick and painless."

  Max clenched his fists. He felt just as helpless as yesterday except this time he was facing a blaster instead of the red wastes. "Why do you have to kill me?" He peered around the back edge of the boulder where there were no reeds to move and give him away. Max saw the ranger circling around.

  "As I said, the penalty for violating the reserve is death. I don't know how you sneaked past security and, frankly, I don't care." Creed took a few more steps. "Everyone knows the rules, my friend."

  "If you'll just give me a chance, I'll show you the secret airlock leading to City 7." Max dug a smooth stone from the sand. He had one slim chance of getting to the forest.

  Creed pshawed. "Nonsense, boy. Lying won't get you out of this." Creed paused. His eyes homed in on Max, but he didn't bring the rifle to bear. "Where is this supposed secret airlock?"

  "To the southwest," Max said, ready to pull back his head if Creed lifted the blaster. "It leads to another dome."

  "Another dome?" The ranger pursed his lips. "You're certainly a creative fellow, I'll give you that." Creed sighed. "I hate to kill you, but rules are rules and security would have my head."

  "Can't you make an exception?" Max asked plaintively.

  A slow grin spread across Creed's face. "I'm afraid I can't." He tapped a finger to his chin. "Tell you what, though, why don't we make this interesting?"

  Max didn't like the sound of that. "What do you mean?"

  "How would you like a sporting chance?"

  "You'll give me a blaster?" Max asked.

  Creed laughed. "No. But I will give you the count of ten. At least this way you have a chance to die like a man."

  Max stared at the man. "Count of ten?"

  The ranger b
ent to place the rifle on the ground and straightened. "Nine. Eight. Seven."

  Without another second of hesitation, Max sprinted into the jungle, racing toward the airlock. He hadn't gone far when he realized how foolish that would be. Creed would follow the arrows on the trees and find him in no time. He'd see the footprints going to the wall and vanishing and figure out how to open the hidden panel. On the other hand, he might believe Max's story and let him live.

  It only took a second to discard that idea. Creed hadn't given an inch. Even faced with the truth, he probably wouldn't change his mind. Max had to go somewhere else, but where? Patch, the leopard, had nearly killed him twice already, but a man with a rifle was infinitely more dangerous.

  If Creed patrolled this habitat regularly, then he probably knew every nook and cranny just like Max knew City 7. Even worse, Max might run headlong into other predators before Creed tracked him down. Still, the odds for survival were marginally better than they had been a moment ago and Max hadn't made it this far to die.

  Across rutted ground, under fallen trees, and into denser brush, Max ran for his life. His legs turned rubbery, and his lungs gasped for breath. Leaning against the trunk of a tree on a steep rise, Max looked back. Tall ferns and bushes covered the jungle floor in this area, making it difficult to see very far. Of Creed, he saw no sign.

  Max noticed broken fronds and his footprints along the path he'd taken and realized the ranger would have little problem tracking him. Max had tracked people through the forest at the fringes of City 7. He was no expert, whereas Creed was probably experienced at tracking animals.

  Somehow, Max had to lay down a false trail or hide the one he was making now.

  Brad Cooper.

  The boy's name brought with it painful memories. Hardly a kid, but he'd fed the daughter just for trying to reach Overlook. The first time Brad had tried to sneak to Overlook, he'd gone through the outer forest. Max had tracked him and stopped the boy from reaching it, but he'd only saved Brad's life temporarily. The next time the boy got smarter and tromped to the south, then backed up over his own footsteps, and reversed course, stepping on stones he'd brought to avoid leaving footprints.

  It had taken Max too long to figure out what Brad had done. By that time, the boy had been caught trying to break into Overlook. Brad Cooper had died, but he might save Max's life. There weren't any stones nearby, and Max had once again lost his only two weapons during his escape. That meant he had to figure out another way to avoid leaving footprints.

  Movement in the distance caught his eye. From the vantage point of the rise, he was able to make out a humanoid figure stalking his way. Creed didn't seem to be in a hurry. The ranger knelt and examined something, but it hardly seemed he needed to since Max had left such a clear trail.

  Leaves drifted down as a colony of monkeys swooped past overhead. One of them stopped on a branch a few feet above and looked at Max curiously.

  Max wished he could—the solution hit him. He wasn't a monkey, but many trees had branches touching those of their neighbors', and in some cases, thick vines capable of supporting his weight. He could use them to traverse some of the jungle without touching the ground. The hard part would be climbing the initial twenty feet up to the closest branches. Most of the tree trunks were far too wide for him to easily grip with his arms and legs.

  The other difficulty would be backtracking in his own footprints without Creed catching up first. Max's dash for freedom hadn't lasted for more than a few minutes. He was in decent physical shape, but that didn't make him a sprinter. Then again, he hadn't been a tree climber a few days ago either.

  Adapt or die.

  Max had no other choice. Taking a deep breath, he jogged forward on tired legs. Instead of proceeding straight, he curved in one direction for a way then dodged back in the other direction. He found a scattered field of black boulders and hopped from one to the other across a muddy clearing to avoid leaving footprints. Max felt ready to collapse. If he wasn't far enough ahead of Creed by now to reverse his path, then he'd never be. It was now or never, and the stony field provided a good chance for him to vanish.

  Max ran further into the jungle then painstakingly backtracked his footsteps. He ran in another direction for a hundred feet, then backtracked that one as well. The fake trails probably wouldn't fool Creed for long, but they might send him in the wrong direction for long enough.

  Several suitable trees grew at the edge of the clearing. Max climbed a boulder, closed his eyes, and spun. He went toward the first tree he saw when he opened his eyes. The trunk was wide, but he squeezed his knees against the sides and shimmied up. Gasping for breath, he reached the lowest branches a moment later and gratefully pulled himself up to the broad limb and rested.

  Max didn't remain there long. It would take him time to climb higher where the branches of other trees intersected this one. He'd climbed another twenty feet when he found the first bridge to freedom. The broad, leafy limb was about two feet wide where it intersected the trunk. Max got down on his knees and shuffled across the narrowing limb and gripped the branch from a neighboring oak.

  Though the leaves blocked a clear view to the ground directly below, Max trembled at the thought of falling. Steeling his nerves, he shifted his knees to the opposite branch and quickly crawled toward the trunk of the oak. He'd just reached it when he saw Creed step into the rocky clearing below.

  Max lay down on the branch, using its width and the leaves to conceal himself. Creed climbed the nearest boulder and knelt on top, surveying the clearing. A few moments later, he stood and walked to the edge of the clearing. From there, he walked in a slow deliberate circle, head down as he looked for a trail.

  The ranger spotted the first fake trail and disappeared down it. Max regretted not making it longer, but he'd simply run out of time. He thought about heading for another tree, but it was likely he'd make too much noise, or send leaves floating down to the ground by moving around too much.

  Instead, he stayed motionless and waited.

  Creed returned not long after leaving and continued circling the clearing. He found the second false path, followed it, and returned. After making a complete circle around the clearing, the ranger walked into the center and looked up at the trees. He did this for only a matter of seconds before bracing his chin in one hand and looking out into the jungle.

  The ranger knelt on the rock and peered intently toward the direction Max hadn't left a path, fake or real. He nodded to himself, then marched off, apparently convinced Max had somehow headed that way without leaving footprints.

  Max let out a long quiet sigh of relief, but stayed where he was. He'd give the ranger another thirty minutes before risking movement.

  Provided Creed had actually been fooled, what was next for Max? This was only a temporary solution. It wouldn't take long before the ranger was back on his trail one way or the other. Creed obviously wouldn't listen to reason. The next time the ranger had Max in his sights, he'd pull the trigger without hesitation. The only long-term solution was clear.

  Creed had to die.

  There were several problems with that plan, the least of which was Max's lack of a weapon. The ranger was armed, on familiar terrain, and a good tracker. On a more positive note, the jungle offered ample hiding places and Creed was only human. After all, he'd fallen for Max's redirection.

  When it seemed like enough time had passed, Max stood and stretched then contemplated the path of branches. It would be hazardous and slow, but it might be best to keep to the trees for some distance before climbing back to the ground. He edged along the broad limb until it narrowed and gauged the distance to the branch on the next tree.

  A flash of light was all the warning he received before a blaster shot sliced through the limb where it connected to the tree. The weakened branch cracked and sagged. Max realized it would break before he could get back to the trunk. He had only one way to go—across.

  Max leapt for the next branch and felt the heat from a blaster bolt w
hizz past his back. He grabbed the other limb, but another shot gouged a hunk from the wood. Max shouted and grabbed for solid wood, but it was too late.

  The branch snapped and Max fell.

  Chapter 25

  Max's shoulder slammed into a limb. He rolled off it and fell another five feet before smacking into the next. For an instant, everything went black. When he blinked away the fog, leaves blocked his view. Max groaned and looked around. The breadth of the limb he rested on had arrested his brutal descent.

  Blood pooled beneath his face and every inch of his body ached. He wanted to probe for injuries but didn't dare move. His ruse hadn't fooled Creed. The ranger had obviously made a show of leaving then hidden somewhere below and waited for Max to move. The man was even cleverer than Max previously imagined.

  Treed with nowhere to run, it appeared the final hour had finally come. In truth, his bones and muscles protested even the thought of running. It was time to make his peace and die. He closed his eyes. The sounds of nature filled his ears—bird calls, the blasting noise of the gray beasts somewhere in the distance, and the chattering of monkeys.

  Dying here in nature was at least better than suffocating on the red sands. He had witnessed things few civvies in City 7 ever would. Should he simply stand and let Creed shoot him, or jump of his own accord? Jumping might prove more painful since there were still plenty of branches between him and the ground, so he decided offering Creed a clear shot might be less painful.

  He imagined standing up, holding out his arms. A searing red blast taking him in full in the chest, his lifeless body toppling forward, bouncing off limbs and finally crashing into the hard ground below. Creed, stepping from his hiding spot, kneeling and inspecting his human trophy, a smile on his face.

  Anger surged through Max's chest. His fists clenched and his heart raced. The aches and pains in his body suddenly seemed insignificant to the brutal end awaiting him. He'd given up on life after his parents' execution, but Sarah's plight had awakened him. Max had fought the tyrants of City 7 and he'd won! Creed was just another bully, a man with a blaster and territorial advantage, who wanted to take Max's life. Creed was no different from Alderman or his cronies. Only the circumstances had changed.