Gunship - The Series

by John Davis

  The fire that burned to help these people strengthened inside of the posted Colonial soldiers as well, their demeanor once again becoming that of an unstoppable force.

  Roman held his hand out, silently warning his Black Cell brother of footsteps approaching. Quinton was a bit larger than Roman, though both were built sturdily. Quinton gripped the stock of his rifle tight as Roman held both firearm and riot stick, the blunt weapon down at his side as they listened. There were three Gali guards approaching, all slowly and as quietly as possible, weapons in front of them and at the ready.

  Roman glanced back to his brother for a moment, his back firmly against the steel of an interior wall just inside the doorway. Outside, the guards approached with caution in the narrow confines of the hallway. Roman held up three fingers, passing the information along to Quinton. Next, he held a clinched fist to let his brother know a fight was unavoidable and without pause he swung the clinched fist around, hitting the guard in front and jarring several teeth loose from the man's skull.

  Immediately pulling the helpless guard back to his feet, Roman used the flesh of his unconscious victim to absorb several gunshots sent his way by the remaining two lawmen. Roman then threw the dead flesh to the flooring below, jumping onto the second guard with no remorse. They had beaten him, spit through the bars of his holding cell on many occasions and now that the tables were turned, Roman saw no reason to be gentle. The last guard quickly took aim at the former Black Cell terrorist, but was nearly cut in half with a string of shots fired from the weapon shouldered by Quinton.

  Knowing well that more would come to the shots, be they guards of prisoners in hunt of the two men, Quinton did his best to pull Roman from the second guard. It took a few moments, Roman resisting as he continued to punch heavily on the guard he had already beaten to death and beyond.

  “We have to go now! Won't be long before we hear the shuffling of feet. Zane's or more of the man's.” Quinton said, finally able to pull Roman from the beaten guard.

  Roman stood on his own, spitting onto the lifeless body as Quinton let go of his bear hugging grip. “They got what was coming to them my brother, now we gotta move! Got to get to that landing bay and find a place to hold up.” Quinton added.

  “Yea they got what was coming to 'em, and I got a lot more to give.” Roman said abruptly, having found the hate he harbored against the people who had treated him less than human. Checking the guards for weapons, they found a Gali prison radio that would come in handy for the rest of their escape. Quinton placed it into the back of his pants, the two men quickly leaving the scene and heading into the direction of the landing bay.

  “Hit me.” Dalton said, a stringy brown cigar hanging from his lips. He was the only man in the hotel bar enjoying a cigar that had the undeniable look of poverty.

  Everyone else dressed with class and smoked only the finest of rolled pleasure. Not Dalton. Never the type to care about anyone's impression of him, he smiled wide, a bottle of rock whiskey and shot glass in front of of him.

  “He wins again!” the dealer exclaimed as the small crowd that had gathered at the card table cheered on. Dalton was on a winning streak, and though two beautiful woman had found their way to him primarily because of the credits he had laying on the table, Dalton was convinced his charm was the hook.

  Rock whiskey was by far the cheapest alcohol in the entire Skyla System, aside from home brew of course. In fact, the only reason the hotel kept it in stock was for the occasional homeless citizen that collected enough money to enjoy a drink of the stagnant brew. For Dalton, it didn't matter. He could be rolling in money and never forget the rough patches he'd been through. For nearly eleven days during the first war of Glimmeria, he and Adam survived on nothing but rust water and vermin. Left behind by their own soldiers, abandoned and given up for dead. What the rest of the hotel lobby didn't understand was compared to rust water, rock whiskey was fine wine. Dalton understood this, and was a survivor because of it.

  “Does he know what inconspicuous even means?” Stage asked, puzzled with the thought of Dalton drawing so much attention his way before such an illegal heist.

  “I don't think his mind is on the heist.” Sasha replied as they all watched Dalton slide a free hand down onto the ass of each of the two women.

  Both had bleach blonde hair to go with the look of well used, to say the least. Well used was an afrodisiac to Dalton, however. To him a woman who had been around was a woman worth chasing. She knew the score, understood the game and was less likely to fall in love with the brown coat booty chaser.

  His four legged friend of thick fur was present as well, gaining just as much attention from the women who rubbed on him as though he were their own. Yep, Dalton was hot. Winning hands and hearts, even if the hearts chased his money.

  “Come on, we gotta get going.” Primal said, tapping Dalton on the shoulder.

  “I'll be up in a few.” Dalton replied, a handful of cards in his left hand, while his right maintained a firm grip on the heart shaped ass of one of the women.

  “I said now.” Primal demanded sternly, hushing the crowd. Dalton gained a strange look on his face, one that normally wasn't attached to cheap women and equally as cheap whiskey.

  “Be right back.” he said, kissing one of the woman deeply and petting Whiskey slightly.

  “What the fuck did you just say,” Dalton yelled, standing to his feet swiftly and pushing Primal back several feet in the same motion. “Don't nobody tell me what the fuck to do primate.” Dalton added loudly, enraging Primal, who dashed at him with ill intent.

  A drunk is pretty easy to take out, but unfortunately for Primal, Dalton could hold rock whiskey like a camel of sort. Easily evading his charge, Dalton pushed Primal as he passed, using the Benzan's own momentum to send him crashing into the table and smashing the fine wooden grain into shards on the floor.

  “I was knocking boots when you was wearing diapers you big hairy 'sumbitch.” Dalton said loudly, jumping on top of Primal and throwing fists into his direction. The Benzan blocked most of the punches, which turned to slaps, letting Primal know he'd been bested.

  “Enough!” Stage said, starting for the men and his weapon.

  “It's a fair fight,” Adam said, pulling his sidearm with surgical haste and holding it on Stage who turned back to look at him with bitterness. “Let them decide when it's enough.” Adam added.

  “You dare pull a gun on me?” Stage asked.

  “I've dared to do a lot of things, and you are pretty low down on that list friend.” Adam replied.

  “Sasha.” Stage said, waiting for the Benzan beauty to intervene.

  “It is a fair fight Stage.” she replied, making the man furious. “First you betray Kraid for this common thief, and now you insult me!” Stage said, pissed to the highest point that fury could take him.

  Sasha pulled her automatic pistol out, pointing it at Stage for a moment as she leaned in to kiss Adam deeply. “Kraid doesn't own me and neither do you.” Sasha replied, letting the man know right away that she was her own woman.

  “You will be dealt with in due time,” Stage said to her, glancing at Adam and Dalton for a moment. “And you two, you're both dead men!” he added.

  “Now there's a line that's been used more than my damn pickup lines,” Dalton said, turning to Sasha as if to convince her that his pickup lines were still semi-fresh. “Plus, if you two clowns really are the best Kraid has to offer then you might want to consider another line of work. Something like ranch work or waiting tables. Hell, apply here, they may hire you on. Cause you sure in the hell 'aint no killers.” Dalton said, letting Primal back to his feet slowly. Dalton grabbed a fistful of credits from the pile of rubble near the spot that used to be home to a table, pulling one of the women close to him.

  A mixture of kissing and talking to the woman as he groped her heavily, Dalton told her to split the remainder of the credits with the other woman. Their company tonight had been well worth the money, which was several thous
and credits. Both women hugged Whiskey, a perfect nightcap to their ass kissing of the man with the winning hand. Meanwhile, Primal walked away slowly, his stare never breaking from Dalton while doing so.

  “I guess this means the rescue is off.” Stage said sarcastically.

  “Nope. Just means you two outlaw wannabees are finding your own ride home,” Dalton replied. “Now go on, get!” he added, shooing them away like unwanted strays. Stage looked at him strangely, quickly realizing the shuttle they had actually arrived in was now Adam's property.

  “Best if you both hit the road.” Adam said, at gunpoint of course. Sasha wasn't crazy about the idea of turning her back on the two Benzans, but now that she knew what Kraid thought of her; she wasn't crazy about returning to the Benzans either. She had just needed someone to love her, since her parents were executed it had been the Benzans. Now, she had started to look to Adam for that sense of love, and she trusted him with everything inside of her.

  “Simple. We just hang out by the shuttle, when they come out we dust 'em.” Stage said as the two men furiously walked across the busy street.

  “And Sasha?” Primal asked.

  “No harm is to come to her. She's just confused, that's all. Kraid will straighten her out.” Stage replied.

  “Find the ship.” Vladris said as the other two Hunter Elites carried heavy rifles in hand.

  “There. The numbers match those of the Benzan shuttle.” one of the elites said, the pointed claw of his thick white hand showing the way.

  Vladris led the group, a long blade sheathed to his back as his leg held a pistol and his massive hands clinched the stock of a rifle. A few citizens stared hard. Some had never seen men with such a look, while others knew all too well they were Hunters and were taken by surprise as the demonic clan of murderers rarely appeared in such a public place. Vladris and his two accompanying Hunter Elites slowly approached the Benzan shuttle, the moon reflecting lightly from the shaven head of Vladris. Meanwhile, his accompanying elites looked equally as savage, their braided locks of shimmer white and teeth of luminous death only two of many features that led the citizens nearby to steer clear. The normal Hunter simply had a lifeless look in its eye, the pupil void of any pigment. Hunter Elites, however, had a slight red color which seemed to glow a bit. Much like the embers of a freshly discarded fire.

  It wasn't clear which group of warriors first caught glance of the other, but to every citizen unlucky enough to be in the area, it was damn clear that lead began to fly without remorse. Stage hit one of the Hunter Elites with two solid shots, both slamming into the trunk of his chest, knocking the undead beast back a bit. Primal was too close for gunfire, his first reaction instead was to begin swinging fists at the demon closest to him. Quickly bested however, Primal fell to his back, sliding quickly out of the way to once again gain footing. The hair covered Benzan drew a long blade from a sheath on his right thigh, his full intention to attack. Quickly however, he found himself on the defense; the large blade barely able to withstand a downward strike from the sword of a Hunter Elite.

  “What is it?” Adam asked as Sasha looked through the drapes of the hotel room following the distinct sounds of gunshots.

  “Oh God, it's Stage and Primal.” she replied in shock, Adam joining her at the window seconds later.

  He had never encountered a Hunter Elite before, but was pretty damn sure that's what stood on the ground below. Three of them to be exact.

  “Dalton, pack our shit right now.” Adam said.

  “Just a second, let me finish this...” Dalton replied, cut short as he and Whiskey lay on one of the large beds.

  “Now,” Adam yelled sternly. “We got Hunters down below and they 'aint the garden variety!” he added.

  Spilling what remained of his tall whiskey glass, Dalton jumped to his feet with haste, quickly sitting to try and put his boots and coat back on with frantic pace.

  “I'm sick and tired of this fucking bullshit,” Dalton muttered, pulling his brown coat on quickly, though it wrapped his body a bit crooked. “Going from winning card games, surrounded by fine looking strange and endless streams of whiskey to running from these dead 'sumbitches. It's always these dead 'sumbitches. I told you not to take the fucking job in the first place. Told you not to do business with Anwick. I told you. Didn't I tell you?” Dalton mumbled loudly as he continued to fight his feet into the thick leather of his worn boots.

  “Shh.” Adam said quietly.

  “Well I did...” Dalton began to reply.

  “Shh,” both Adam and Sasha insisted. “They're gone.” Adam said quietly, glancing out of the room's window for a moment. About the time he finished uttering the words, a solid knock came at the door.

  “Shit.” Dalton motioned with his lips, no actual sound escaping. Sasha motioned Dalton to answer the knock, stalling them long enough for Adam to open the window that led down by fire escape.

  Dalton looked back at her puzzled, having no idea who was even at the door. Sasha motioned him once more as the knocking grew heavier.

  “Um, if this is about child support you got the wrong room.” Dalton said cheerfully, drawing a strange glare from both Adam and Sasha. Seconds later, the shots of Hunter rifles blew gaping holes through the solid wooden barrier on hinges. As the door swung open, smacking roughly against the wall behind it, Dalton held his shotgun out and discharged two shots. Blind as to what his target even was, but following the creed of a smuggler. He who gets shot at shoots back.

  Vladris and his two battle hardened knights of undead walked in, the first elite hit with both shotgun blasts at close range, putting him down onto the ground in pain. The same elite had been struck with two shots from Stage's weapon only moments before, and the four combined wounds had seriously injured the knight of immortality. Dalton was too close to the Hunters and too far away from the window to jump out, opting instead to stand on the other side of the bed. Out of desperation, Dalton began throwing liquor glasses, pillows, magazines and anything else his hands could grab into the direction of the two standing Hunters.

  Whiskey pinned his ears back, letting loose a growl proving he was ready to make the ultimate sacrifice for his proud human owner as he caught sight of the Hunter's accompanying hell hound. As the second Hunter Elite stood there, staring at the pathetic halfway house for fleas, he was struck with several shots from Adam's pistol.

  “Dalton, bring your ass!” Adam yelled, moving as Sasha then peeked in, firing her automatic pistol into the direction of Vladris.

  The Hunter Elites had no choice but to stay hidden behind a wall as the bullets chewed into the wood while a drunk and his dog made their escape. The hell hound growled loudly, its voice a mixture of undead anger and warning.

  “Told you not to take that fucking job,” Dalton muttered under his breath a bit as his body shook with adrenaline; Adam and Sasha sliding down the large corner rail of the fire escape. “Don't let him hit the ground!” Dalton demanded, dropping his four legged friend as though he were a fur covered feather into the waiting arms of Adam Michaels.

  He was safely caught, though the velocity of his fall knocked Adam to the pavement. Dalton slid down right behind, knowing well enough that Hunters would not be far behind.

  The three smugglers turned fugitives ran hard, a brown dog at their side throughout as Hunter Elites trailed them on foot by less than two hundred yards. Dalton stopped abruptly.

  “Go to the shuttle and get that bitch ready, just don't leave me!” he yelled, Adam pausing slightly before turning to resume his getaway.

  Sasha was in first, hitting the necessary switches to fire up the engines by the time Adam ran up the steel ramp, his boots striking loudly on the grated steel.

  “Hey boys.” Dalton yelled, the Hunters slowing their run to a walk. “Go. Get the fuck out of here!” Primal yelled under his breath, doing his best to hide below a small ship docked near the Benzan shuttle.

  “Got one hiding under here.” Dalton said, smiling a bit and pointing to Primal
before turning to haul ass and join Adam and Sasha.

  “You bastard!” Primal yelled loudly, Whiskey barking at the Benzan for a moment before leaving to catch up to Dalton.

  “Go!” Dalton shouted, he and Whiskey both sprinting up the shuttle's ramp and diving into the passenger area. One of the Hunter Elites had given chase, his arms clinching the edge of the passenger area as the shuttle began to lift off.

  “Told you. Told you not to take that fucking job Adam!” Dalton said angrily, forcefully kicking the elite flush in the face several times and eventually causing him to release his grip, dropping back to the ground. Dalton fell back onto the deck of the shuttle for a moment, door still open as he gave a sigh of both frustration and relief.

  “Dalton, close the door so we can break atmosphere!” Adam said loudly.

  “Wait. I'm trying to decide between shutting the door or jumping out my damn self and putting an end to this shit.” Dalton replied with sarcasm, finally moving his body over enough to kick the large button which drew the ship's door closed. Primal watched their shuttle ascend into the clouds, glancing for a moment at Stage who lay dead on the ground, his vision filled shortly after with that of the near grin upon a hell hound's face. His screams lasted only seconds as the immortal pet's teeth shaved through the flesh of a life short lived.

  Tigon Twelve was a solid Colonial shuttle, but its current crew had pushed it to the limit as the silver ship ate fuel without remorse during its full burn.

  “Not long before we get to Arch City my lady,” Lassiter said loudly as the loyal soldiers all patiently waited with weapons at the ready. “When we get there, you are to remain onboard with the Goliaths. Is that clear?” he added.