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Asbaran Solutions (The Revelations Cycle Book 2)

Page 16

by Chris Kennedy


  Baa-boom! The det cord blew, firing through the frame of the door, where it was enveloped by a sympathetic detonation from the other side. The door, as well as thousands of pieces of shrapnel, blew outward into the area just vacated by the troops.

  “How did you know it was booby-trapped?” Jernigan asked looking down at the hand he would have used to open the door. Mason could see it was shaking slightly.

  “It’s what I would have done to slow us up,” Mason replied with a smile. Maybe he wasn’t too old for this. “All right, let’s go. Don’t open any doors without checking with me first.”

  Approaching the Alien Ship, Blood Drinkers’ Base, Bestald

  “Holy shit!” Nigel cried, throwing himself to the side as a laser bolt hit the ferrocrete next to him.

  “What?” Corporal Epard asked. “Your knee give out?”

  Nigel looked up to see the two troopers had stopped and were looking back at him. “Don’t stop!” he yelled, struggling to his feet. “Run! Someone just shot at me!”

  The troopers turned in time to see a strangely-shaped figure retreating into the spaceship. “Run, damn it!” Epard urged. “Before they raise the ramp!”

  The two soldiers dashed toward the ship with Nigel hobbling after them. Within seconds, the ramp began to rise.

  “Not…gonna…make it…” Thunder grunted. Every step was torture as wave after wave of pain spread from his broken arm.

  Epard dropped her rifle and pack, and she sprinted as hard as she could, leaving both of the men behind. 50 yards away. 40 yards, and the end of the ramp passed the level of her midsection. 30. The ramp appeared to be moving more quickly. 20 yards, and the end was level with her face. 10 yards. She took her last few steps and jumped, just hooking her fingers over the edge. She let her momentum swing her legs in, and as they swung back out she pulled herself up onto the edge of the ramp, and threw a leg over it.

  No time to rest, she saw. The ramp was within seconds of shutting on her and cutting her in half. Rolling, she went over the edge and onto the nearly vertical ramp, falling, bouncing and rolling down to the bottom.

  She came to rest on her back at the bottom of the ramp, the wind driven from her lungs and partially stunned from the fall. She looked up and met the compound eyes of what looked like a gigantic ant. The reddish-brown nightmare stood nearly six feet tall on its rearmost set of legs. The creature came complete with antennae, which twitched in apparent surprise at having her fall at its feet.

  It pranced backward on spindly legs that didn’t look big enough to hold it then turned to retrieve its laser rifle.

  The sight of the rifle jolted her to action, and she drew her pistol from its holster without getting up. “Drop it!” she yelled as the creature turned back toward her.

  If it understood her, it didn’t give any indication; it brought up the rifle.

  She fired, and the .40 caliber hollow point hammered the creature in its thorax. She continued firing, hitting it four more times as the bullets walked up the creature. The final bullet hit it between its eyes, and the creature fell over backward. As it fell, she could see the bullets had passed through the creature’s body, leaving a splatter painting in three colors on the bulkhead behind it. Gross.

  Epard got up and inspected the creature. If there was anything important in its midsection or head, it was dead.

  She turned and cycled the boarding ramp back down. Thunder ran up with a pistol out, ready to shoot.

  “I heard shots,” he said.

  “Yeah, I got it,” she said, nodding toward the dead alien. “Whatever the hell it is.”

  Nigel handed her the rifle and pack she had dropped and examined the alien. “I think it’s an Altar,” Nigel said, “but that doesn’t make any sense.”

  “What do you mean?” Corporal Epard asked, checking her rifle for damage. Finding none, she set it aside and reloaded her pistol.

  “Normally the Altar and Besquith are enemies,” Nigel explained. “At least they were in the Tri-V games I used to play.” He nodded at the pistol. “Old school, huh?”

  “Lasers don’t get it done for me in close,” Epard replied. “I like something with a little more stopping power for close encounters. It’s big enough to hurt ‘em but small enough for me to control. With hollow points, it gets the job done. Did with that thing, anyway.” She toed the Altar’s corpse.

  “One thing makes sense,” Nigel said, looking at the body. “Altars have compound eyes, like the ants back home, which is probably why it missed me with its rifle. Their eyes are good for movement detection, but pretty crappy for distance resolution.” He shrugged. “Let’s see if we can find the bridge or cockpit or whatever it is on this ship. The damn things are communal; if there’s one, there are more. I guarantee there will be some of them on the bridge, and they’ll take off with us if we don’t stop them.”

  * * * * *

  Chapter Nineteen

  Hanger Two, Blood Drinkers’ Base, Bestald

  “This level’s clear,” Mason reported. “Everyone move up to the second floor.”

  Corporal Jen ‘Sparky’ Davis gave the room a last sweep. Unlike most of the squad, she wasn’t scared. Well, she was, a little, but her sense of curiosity far outweighed the feelings of terror that consumed most of her squadmates after they had heard the alien howling. This was the reason she had joined Asbaran Solutions in the first place—she had wanted to explore new places and see new things. The room was some sort of machine shop, but whether it was for fixing ships or APCs or something else, she didn’t know. And she really wanted to know.

  She picked up a strange tool from one of the workbenches, trying to figure out what it did, but Sergeant Jeremy ‘Gemini’ Crouch slapped it out of her hand, and it fell to the floor with a clatter.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” he asked. “Don’t touch anything; it could be booby-trapped. C’mon, we’re moving up to the second deck.”

  Sparky sighed. So many new things to explore. How could she resist picking it up?

  She backed out the door, watchful as always, but there were no aliens in sight. Nothing jumped up or did anything interesting.

  The squad went up the stairs to the second floor, but the passageway was empty.

  “I don’t want ‘em behind us,” Mason transmitted. “Make sure there aren’t any Besquith in these rooms.”

  One of the last ones up the stairs, Sparky didn’t get to kick in any of the doors, which was disappointing. Each room was like an unopened Christmas present. What would be inside when it was opened?

  In this case, nothing exciting. These rooms were boring, she saw as she stalked down the hallway. Mostly office space, although the desks were oddly shaped, and there were no chairs. Maybe because the Besquith had tails. That, at least, was different, if not totally ‘interesting.’

  “Nothing on this level, either,” Turk reported.

  “Stay frosty,” Mason said. “We know they’re here, and they know we’re here. Everyone move up to the third deck.”

  As the squad retracted back to the staircase, she found herself toward the front of the formation. Even better! Maybe she would get to kick in a door!

  But no, Gemini was in the lead, and he kicked in the first door. “What the hell is this?” he asked as he advanced into the room, rifle at the ready.

  Sparky followed, sweeping the corners in the opposite direction of Gemini’s advance.

  This was different, but not in a fun way.

  They had found a torture chamber. Or a meat processing facility. Or something.

  “Is this the kitchen?” Gemini asked.

  Sparky continued to sweep the room. Oh, a kitchen. That made sense. The room was full of large metal tables that shined as if recently cleaned. A variety of large knives that looked like curved butcher knives hung from hooks on the ceiling, and a selection of smaller knives waited on smaller tables next to the larger ones. Drains scattered throughout the room made for easy clean up.

  “A kitchen,” Sparky said.
“That’s funny. When I first saw it, I thought it was some sort of torture room. I guess my imagination was wandering.”

  “Oh, shit…” Gemini said, reexamining the equipment. “No, I think you’re right. The tables have straps on them, and there are wires running to some of them. Oh, hell.” He switched to his radio. “Hey, Top, I think we just found a torture room or something. It kind of looks like a kitchen…but kind of not.”

  “Be right there,” Mason replied.

  Sparky continued through the room. She had never seen so many knives in one place before. As she reached the back corner of the room, she came upon an oversize cabinet of cutting implements. They didn’t look like any sort of kitchen utensils she had ever seen; they looked evil. As her eyes traveled down the cabinet, she saw there were six-inch skid marks on the floor leading to where it was currently positioned.

  Weird, she thought. Why would the aliens have moved it to the back of the room where it was out of the way? As big as it was, most humans would have placed it in a position of greater prominence. Also, it wasn’t up against the wall on the side next to the back wall; instead, it was pushed forward about three inches. She tried to push it back, but couldn’t. Strange.

  “What do you think?” she heard Gemini ask as someone came into the room behind her. “Kitchen?” Sparky thought she heard a note of hope in his voice.

  “No, this isn’t a kitchen,” Mason replied after a pause. “Well not really. It’s the Blood Drinkers’ torture room…they just happen to eat the things they kill. Including prisoners, the sick fucks.”

  Sparky looked behind the cabinet and thought she could see a line, but it was too dark to tell.

  “Yeah, well remind me to never get caught by them,” Gemini said. “Shoot me first, would ya?”

  “Yeah,” Mason said. “Make sure you do the same for me.” He paused and then added, “C’mon, we’ve got work to do. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

  “Sparky!” Gemini called. “Let’s go!”

  “Just a second,” Sparky said as she tugged on the cabinet. “I’ve got something weird over here.”

  “Now what are you into?” Gemini asked, sounding frustrated. “Can’t you leave anything alone?”

  Mason and Gemini came over to where she was. “What have you got?” Mason asked.

  “It looks like they moved this cabinet,” she said, pointing to the skid marks. “Also, it doesn’t sit right against the wall. I’m trying to move it to see what’s behind it.”

  “Hang on,” Mason said. He pulled a mini flashlight off his belt and shined it behind the cabinet. “Wires back there,” he noted. “Looks like it’s booby-trapped.”

  “Jernigan, I’ve got a trap for you,” Mason radioed. “First door to the right from the stairwell.”

  Private Jernigan entered the room and came over to the group.

  “Looks like they may have wired this cabinet to blow if we pulled it away from the wall,” Mason noted, handing him the flashlight. “Take a look under there.”

  “Sure, Top.” Jernigan laid down on the floor and slid underneath the cabinet. Turning on the flashlight, he looked up the back of the cabinet. “Yep, it’s wired to blow, all right. If you’d pulled out the cabinet about two more inches, it would have pulled the pin out of a grenade attached to a wad of plastic explosives. Bad juju.”

  “I always told you that curiosity killed the cat,” Gemini said to Sparky. “Almost killed you this time.”

  “I know…but I couldn’t help it!” Sparky exclaimed. “I had to know what was back there.”

  “Gimme a sec,” Jernigan said, his voice muffled. He shifted around under the cabinet then slid back out. “It’s safe,” he said. “It was a simple trap; it looks like something they just threw together in a hurry. All I had to do was disconnect the wire from the cabinet.”

  “Well, let’s find out what’s back there,” Mason said. “We’re wasting time.”

  He grabbed the corner of the cabinet and pulled. Gemini added his strength to the other side, and they were able to walk the cabinet away from the wall.

  “It’s a door!” Sparky said, reaching for the handle.

  “Wait!” Jernigan ordered. He removed the explosives hanging from the latch and handed them to Gemini. “It’d suck if that got caught on something and detonated.” He put his hand on the door latch. “If you would all just step back a second, just in case?”

  Everyone else moved away from the door and Jernigan eased it open a crack, just enough to shine the flashlight in. “Okay,” he said, throwing the door open; “it’s clear.” Behind the door a passageway continued into the dark.

  He took one step into the hallway and was met with a very human-sounding scream. He jumped back in surprise.

  “Let me do it,” Sparky said. She slung her rifle and pulled out a pistol. She walked past Jernigan, taking the flashlight from him as she passed. Now this was interesting.

  Flipping on the light, she advanced into the gloom. Another scream sounded, weaker than the first. Using the sound as a reference, Sparky moved forward, noting that Jernigan had followed her. The passageway was narrow, with a low ceiling; she was okay, but knew Jernigan would have to duck to walk through it.

  Nine steps down the passageway led her to the cage.

  A six-foot square, the cage had been assembled in an alcove not much bigger than the enclosure. There were only two things in the cage, a cot and an extremely emaciated human woman, who cowered away from the light.

  “Stay away!” the woman whimpered and then broke down sobbing.

  “Amanda?” Sparky asked. “Amanda Spivey?”

  “Yes,” the woman said, sounding confused. “What…who are you?”

  “I’m Corporal Davis, ma’am. I’m here to save you.”

  “Wha…what?” the woman asked.

  Sparky looked around for a key and didn’t see one. She turned to Jernigan. “Go back and see if you can find the key to the cage,” she said. “It must be back in the other room.”

  “It’s not—sniff!—it’s not locked,” the woman said.

  “It’s not?” Sparky asked.

  “No,” the woman replied. “It doesn’t need to be. Where would I go? They’d tear me apart if I left, so I’m just sitting here, waiting to die.”

  Sparky grabbed the gate and pulled. Sure enough, it opened.

  “Let’s go, ma’am. We’ve got to get you out of here.”

  “I’m not sure I can walk.”

  Sparky advanced into the cage and helped the woman up from the cot.

  “I’ll help you, but we have to hurry,” Sparky said as she assisted the woman from the cage and back to the torture room.

  “Good to see you,” Mason said to the woman. “Jernigan already told us who you are.”

  “Thank you for coming!” the woman exclaimed in her strongest voice yet. “I was so scared. If you hadn’t come, they were going to eat me!”

  “That’s okay, ma’am,” Mason replied. “Sparky here will help you out to our spaceship so we can get you out of here.”

  The woman looked at Corporal Davis. “Sparky?”

  “It wasn’t my fault!” Sparky replied. “I asked for the insulated screwdriver, and they handed me one with a magnetic tip. The thing is, nobody cares whose fault it is when you electrocute yourself on your first day at the new job. I’ve been Sparky ever since.”

  Hanger Two, Home Base, Bestald

  “That should do it,” Lieutenant Treb-Sa said as he shut the vault door and programmed in a new code. “The humans won’t be able to get them; if nothing else, we have done our duty.”

  “Not a moment too soon, sir,” Corporal Pres-Al replied. “The humans are advancing. They have bypassed many of my traps or blown them up. They also appear to have additional troops; it looks like there is at least a platoon coming up both stairwells.”

  “Any word from off-base?”

  “No sir,” the communications technician replied. “We’re still being jammed.”

  “
Then it is time for us to make our last stand. Corporal, take four of the privates to the east stairwell; I will take the other four to the west stairwell. Kill as many of them as you can. We will make them pay for attacking us!”

  Hanger Two, Blood Drinkers’ Base, Bestald

  The platoon paused in the stairwell as the howl sounded again. It was much closer and louder this time, awakening the primal urge to flee.

  “Damn, I wish they’d stop doing that,” Private Parker whispered. “They sound like werewolves.”

  “Shut up, Parker,” Mason ordered. “One more flight to go. Be ready; they’re going to hit us soon. They’ve got nowhere else to go.” So far, the humans had only received light harassing fire from the Besquith, but like he had told the troops, the enemy was now cornered and might do something desperate. They would either try to defend their last area in the hope that help would arrive at the last minute, or they would try to go out with a bang and kill as many of the humans as they could. He was betting on the latter; he doubted the Besquith would try to surrender…which was good because he had no intention of letting them.

  The soldier in front of Mason had just stepped onto the next-to-last corner landing of the stairwell when the Besquith attacked. The only warning Mason had was a small scratching noise, and then the Besquith launched themselves into the stairwell from the floor above. Mason saw a shadow out of the corner of his eye and ducked, and a Besquith flew past him to crash into the two soldiers at the tail end of the formation. The trio went rolling down the stairwell to come to a slamming halt at the next landing.

  Another Besquith dove past him, colliding with a third soldier, and they tumbled backward to land on the first Besquith, turning the pile into a tangle of claws, fur, and teeth.

  A third Besquith collided with the soldier in front of Mason, slamming Private Sheila Jewell into the wall at one of the corners of the stairwell. Without pause, the Besquith straddled her, pinning her to the stair, and leaned forward to tear out her throat in a spray of blood.

 

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