Transport 2_The Flood

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Transport 2_The Flood Page 13

by Phillip P. Peterson


  “I have a suggestion,” said Igor, who until then had remained silent. “We set off immediately with the two jeeps we’ve got here. All of us. We take all the weapons and ammunition with us that are here at the observation post. Then we’ll reach the old depot at dusk, stay overnight in the hut, and drive back at sunrise.”

  “You want to leave the post unguarded?” Ben shook his head.

  “Hang on, that’s not such a bad idea,” said Marlene. “I’ll call for reinforcements right away. It’ll take an hour for them to get here, but in that time it’s highly unlikely that hordes of wotans will storm the post. And if the odd animal manages to slip through the barrier, the reinforcements will take care of it.”

  “But they won’t have anywhere to take cover in the canyon.”

  “I think that’s a risk worth taking. That’s what we’ll do.” She looked every one of them in the eye. “I’m not in charge here, and Eliot can’t force you either.”

  Donald Bell nodded. “That isn’t necessary. I’m in!”

  “Me too,” added Igor.

  Jack Neaman nodded curtly and started to rummage around on the shelves for ammunition.

  “What about you?” Marlene directed a steely gaze at Ben Hawke. He pursed his lips, opened his mouth to say something, and shut it again. It was obvious that he didn’t give a damn about Russell and his son, but if he was the only one who didn’t go, it would look as if he were afraid of the mission. After several seconds, he gave a curt nod.

  “Alright, pack up all the weapons, ammunition, and equipment that we have and load it into the two jeeps. I’ll talk to headquarters and make sure reinforcements are sent down, and I’ll let Russell know that help is on the way. Hurry, we’ll get going in ten minutes. And so that there are no misunderstandings: Eliot remains in charge.”

  Eliot laughed. “That’s dumb! You have more experience and better leadership qualities. I’m not even a soldier. I’m a mechanic when I’m not holding a weapon in my hand. I hand over command to you, Ms. President!”

  Marlene shrugged. “Okay. Let’s go.”

  Chapter 15

  “Give me the first-aid kit,” said Russell, turning around to Greg as he placed the radio back on the shelf.

  Greg looked around the small barrack in confusion. The walls were lined with wooden shelves that were filled to the last square inch with food, tools, equipment and weapons. At the time, Russell had thought it was a mistake to leave all this stuff here. Another expedition had been planned for the following month, but that was five years ago, and the second expedition had never taken place. They kept planning to abandon the depot and bring the supplies back to Eridu, but they simply hadn’t got round to it. Now Russell was glad of the fact. “Over there, on the shelf under the skylight.” Greg hurried over to the place where Russell was pointing, took the little red box and ran back to him.

  He took the kit from his son’s hand and tore open the protective foil. He took out the scissors and cut open his shirt from the collar downward.

  Russell pulled his shirt over the wound and cried out in pain as he tried to pull off the scraps of material stuck to his skin. Even worse was the smell. Like rotten eggs.

  He heard Greg crying. “I didn’t want this to happen. I’m sorry. I just wanted to be with you!”

  “It’s okay, it’s not your fault.” Russell had tears in his eyes. The pain was hellish. He took a piece of gauze and dabbed the white liquid that had once been his skin from the wound.

  His son turned around. He took a quick look at the wound and immediately turned away again. “Was that the spit from the animal? Is it acid?”

  Russell shook his head. “It’s an acid burn, yes. But caused by an alkaline fluid. With acid, the skin would have scarred over right away. But here the tissue has liquefied and the hole is deeper. I have to clean it off very carefully.”

  “Will . . . will you get better?”

  Russell almost laughed. He would never get better again, with or without a wound. Instead he forced himself to smile at his son. “It’s not so bad, luckily most of the spit missed me. Don’t worry.”

  “Are they coming to get us?”

  Russell nodded. He had dabbed off the wound. The skin was scarring in parts, but oozing in some spots. He groaned as he tied the bandage around his shoulder. “Yes, they’re coming. But it will take a few hours. Until then we’ll hide out here.”

  “Can’t the monsters get in here?”

  “I don’t think so. But we have to be quiet so that they don’t hear us.”

  “Are they still out there?”

  Russell secured the bandage with a pin and took a deep breath. The pain was bearable if he didn’t move. But he had no choice. “I don’t know. I’ll go and have a look.” Russell crept over to the ammunitions cupboard. There were several pistols, two high-caliber rifles with scopes and two assault rifles. Russell took one of the two M-16s, inserted a magazine and cocked and racked the slide. He slipped an already loaded VP70 into one of his pant pockets along with some M67 hand grenades. Then he propped himself up and peeked out of the little window.

  The window faced south, and the gentle incline outside provided an open view across the grassland down to the edge of the forest about half a mile away. The sun was far in the west, over where the oil fields must be. From the north, grey rain clouds were drawing in.

  Greg had crawled over to him and was about to stand up.

  “Stay down!”

  The boy kept his head below the window frame. “Can you see anything?”

  “No. All quiet. They seem to have gone away,” whispered Russell. But he didn’t believe they really had. The persistence with which the monsters had followed them made him doubt that they would give up on their prey that easily, especially since they had him and Greg in a trap. Russell guessed that they were somewhere nearby, lying in wait for their opportunity. He only hoped that the beasts would leave them in peace until Marlene had arrived with her crew.

  Feeling very weak, Russell slumped down beside his son and leaned against the cool outer wall of the hut. The effect of the medication was wearing off, and it felt as if a jackhammer were pounding in his head. Within seconds he felt nauseous, and vomited all over the wooden floor. He wiped a sleeve over his mouth.

  “Dad? Are you okay? Is it the wound?”

  Russell shook his head. “No, that’s not because of the wound. I need to apologize to you, I should have told you from the start.” Russell paused and waited for a reaction, but Greg just stared at him.

  “I’m ill. Very ill. The reason I just barfed is because of the medication that Dr. Lindwall gave me.”

  Greg continued to stare at him unblinkingly. “Will you die?”

  “Yes,” Russell turned away. “I will die. And soon.”

  He felt a warm hand in his.

  “And that’s why you wanted to go.” It was more of a statement than a question.

  Russell nodded and turned around to his son. His big green eyes reminded him so much of Ellen’s. His vision blurred.

  “Yes, son. You’re right. I went away in order to die.”

  “Why, Dad? Why didn’t you say anything?” Greg didn’t look reproachful. But his eyes were moist.

  “I couldn’t, Greg. I simply couldn’t. Please don’t be angry with me.”

  Greg shuffled closer and hugged Russell tightly. “I’m not angry with you, if you’re not angry with me.”

  Russell sniffed. He didn’t want to start weeping in front of his son, but he couldn’t hold back the tears. “I’m not angry. I never have been and never will be!”

  For a long time they hugged each other in silence—father and son in a lonely hut, surrounded by monsters on an alien planet at the wrong end of the galaxy.

  Chapter 16

  “There’s another one over there! It’s trying to cut us off!” cried Marlene.

  Ben sat upright in the passenger seat and fired a single shot in front of him. The hulking creature rolled across the track and came to a st
andstill in front of a tree trunk. Its hind legs twitched briefly and then it stopped moving completely.

  The jeep swayed as Marlene drove over a big stone. The old track was in worse condition than they had expected. Since passing the oil spring, they had made painfully slow progress on their way east. Again and again, they were attacked by wotans. Igor Isalovic, Jack Neaman, and Donald Bell, in the rear jeep, had to deal with the worst of it. Shots were fired whenever one of the animals broke out of the undergrowth and headed for the vehicles.

  Of course they had also been attacked back on their first expedition, but not like this. Why were there so many more animals? Had their numbers increased for some specific reason?

  Marlene saw a movement from the corner of her eye. “Left!” she shouted. Ben turned around and fired. The wotan, already dead, thudded against the front left wheel of the jeep and was flung backward. The jeep veered sharply to the right and Marlene was worried it might tip over, but by turning the wheel hard, she was able to get it back under control.

  Ben sat down again. “I don’t need to tell you that I still find this whole thing a dumb-ass idea. We’ll all die, just to save one person’s life.”

  “Two people!”

  “I wasn’t counting Russell anymore.”

  Marlene didn’t respond. “Six miles. We can do it!”

  “I’m starting to worry about our ammo supply. And if one of the jeeps is hit and we’re forced to stop, they’ll eat us alive!”

  Marlene bit her lip. Unfortunately Ben was right. Their only chance was to keep moving. If they stopped, they wouldn’t be able to stave off the attackers. She was beginning to ask herself if they shouldn’t have waited for reinforcement after all.

  Be that as it may, it’s too late to turn around now. We won’t make it back to the oil spring by sunset. Our only chance is the supply depot on Mount Fairweather.

  “Shit, something’s happened to the other jeep! They’ve stopped!” Eliot shouted into Marlene’s ear from the back seat.

  She looked in the rear-view mirror. She could see Igor clambering out of the immobile vehicle and slammed on the brakes. No sooner had the vehicle come to a stop than she jumped out. “Ben, Eliot, cover us at the front!”

  Hawke and Sargent ran past Marlene. Ben crouched next to the front right wheel and Eliot next to the left one. Marlene reached into a box on the truck bed and took out three incendiary grenades. She tore off the pin from the first one and threw it far beyond the stranded jeep. The grenade detonated with a bang and the track was flooded with glistening yellow flames. The heat was so intense, Marlene had to turn her head away. She threw the second grenade into the forest to her left, the other to her right. The flames joined up into a blazing wall that would protect them from the wotans on three sides. She ran to the stationary vehicle.

  “What happened?” she asked Igor, who had already crawled under the jeep. It stank of petrol and she feared that the gas tank had ruptured. In that case they would have to abandon it here.

  “The fuel pipe has burst. No gas is getting into the pump!”

  “Can you repair it?”

  “Yes, but I need a few minutes.”

  She wished she had Lee with them, who had a knack for repairing the jeeps. But she didn’t show her concern.

  “Good.” She turned to Jack Neaman and Donald Bell. “Don’t fire into the flames. Wotans hate fire. Keep an eye on the gaps between the flames!”

  She turned back round to Igor, whose legs were sticking out from beneath the vehicle. “You’ve got five minutes! When the fires go out, the whole pack of them will come at us and we’re done for.”

  “I’m working as fast as I can!”

  Up in front, shots were being fired at increasingly short intervals.

  “Quickly!”

  “Get me the tape from the box in the back of the truck.” As Marlene slipped past Jack, she heard the firing of a gun. She turned around and saw a wotan diving through the flames—directly at her. Instinctively she threw herself to the ground and rolled over, banging her knee on a sharp stone. She cried out, but the shot had hit its target. With an ungodly yowling, the animal fell back into the flames, twitched two more times, and died. The air was filled with the smell of charred meat. Jack reached out a hand and helped her to her feet.

  “Good react!” she groaned, but the teenager had already turned around to face the flames again. Marlene went to the truck bed to find the box of tools.

  “There’s a whole horde of them approaching from the front!” bellowed Ben from the first jeep.

  “I have to reload!” called Eliot. “Fuck, we need reinforcement!”

  Marlene pressed the tape into Bell’s hand and ran to the front jeep. She kneeled next to Ben, lifted her weapon and took aim at one of the wotans. The monster slumped to the ground.

  “There are too many. They’re . . .” shouted Ben. His last words were swallowed up by rifle fire.

  He was right. We can’t hold out against this attack!

  She fired at a wotan. And another. And another.

  “What’s wrong with the damn jeep?” she yelled. From the corner of her eye she could see that the brightness of the flames was subsiding. The fires were fizzling out. If they didn’t get away from here fast, they were screwed!

  “Igor, dammit!” screamed Marlene. She fired at two more animals. One of them rolled right up to her feet and before dying with a rattling noise in its throat.

  Ben had emptied his magazine. He pulled a replacement magazine from his jacket pocket, and yelled in Marlene’s ear. “We’re all going to die here and it’s your fault!”

  She took out another wotan that was storming toward them and was about to remind Ben that he had come along voluntarily, when she heard the engine spluttering to life behind them.

  “We can move!” shouted Igor.

  “Get in!” cried Marlene.

  As the jeeps set off again, Marlene realized that Igor had finished his repairs not a second too soon. Dozens of wotans were now leaping through the black smoke toward them. Jack and Donald fired at them from the back seat of their jeep. Within moments, droves of them were lying dead on the track. Marlene hurtled through a deep pothole without braking. Ben was thrown upward out of his seat and swore like a recruit on latrine fatigue.

  “Not so fast, or you’ll ruin the axle. It’s already been welded twice, for God’s sake,” yelled Eliot.

  “I don’t care, we have to get out of here!” screamed Marlene, without turning around. With all the noise we’ve been making, every animal in a ten-mile radius will be heading our way.”

  “With a broken axle they’ll be having us for dinner!”

  “We have no choice!”

  Marlene continued at thirty miles an hour without reducing her speed. Where on earth did all these monsters come from? At least they were only wotans, and not snipers.

  “The sun is starting to set,” murmured Ben from the passenger seat. Marlene noticed how the light was fading. Up to a moment ago, the occasional ray of sun still broke through the canopy of leaves, bathing the jungle in a pale-green light. But now the forest became darker, the colors less distinct. Even the wotans were harder to spot against the backdrop of the forest.

  “In half an hour it will be pitch dark,” said Marlene, worry creeping into her voice.

  “How much farther is it to Mount Fairweather?” asked Eliot.

  “Too far.”

  Chapter 17

  “Can we turn on a light?” asked Greg.

  Russell shook his head. Better not. The sun had set behind the distant mountains. The black clouds had drifted past without bursting, and had left in their wake a pale-blue sky that was now turning gray. The first star of the evening twinkled down on them. The trees in the forest had turned into a blur of brown specks; it was impossible to tell one tree from another. Moisture rose up from the grass around the depot, turning into a fine layer of white mist that swirled over the ground. An almost intolerable silence overlaid everything, creating an illu
sion of peacefulness where in fact there was none. The beasts were most probably still in the vicinity. Russell would have liked to open the door and look on the other side of the hut where there was no window, but he was afraid that the monsters were only waiting for such an opportunity.

  “Where are Marlene and the others?” whispered Greg.

  Russell looked to the south, in the direction from where he was expecting the jeep to arrive. At first he wanted to say something reassuring to Greg; that that the team of rescuers would be here any moment; but he had decided not to tell his son any more lies. “I don’t know. Marlene said that they would be here before dark.”

  “Can’t you try and reach them on the radio?”

  “No, if they’re in difficulty, I don’t want to disturb them. They know how to get hold us if they want to talk to us.”

  “What will we do if they don’t come?”

  “It’s too early to give up hope.”

  “But what if they still don’t come? Can we walk back home?”

  It was as if a switch had flipped inside his son. Back home . . . Despite the twenty years that Russell had now spent on this planet, in the now-thriving colony they had worked so hard to establish, he had never really felt at home here. The environment they were pitted against was too alien. On Earth he could have lived anywhere. He had never found it hard to adapt to new surroundings. He’d even gotten used to Afghanistan after a few weeks. But although he had settled into life in New California and did not miss Earth, he still felt like a foreign body on this planet.

  For Greg and his friends, however, who had been born here, New California was their home planet and the settlement of Eridu was their home. They were the first generation of humans to be born in a distant galaxy under a foreign sun. As close as Russell felt to his children and the other young citizens of their colony, this rift was unfathomably deep. While many of the older generation would immediately return to Earth if they were given the opportunity, most of the children would probably refuse to go with them—or never feel at home on Earth.

 

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