Star Road

by Matthew Costello

  She turned, almost too late.

  This time, her gun wasn’t coming up fast enough. She thought for sure she was dead.

  Which is when she heard another one of those cannonading blasts, and the creature fell, sprawling on the floor, inches from Annie.

  Gage’s blast had taken it down, and behind her she heard Jordan shooting. Rodriguez kept making noises.

  But ahead, Gage said—yelled—over the mayhem: “You gotta move... now!”

  Between him and Jordan, the rest of the pack was either dead or dying. Savage snarls and howls filled the air.

  Seeing a break, Annie hurried over to Nahara, freeing him from the clamped jaws and hearing Jordan right there behind her.

  “Let me help.”

  Gage stood there, gun up, scouring the area, firing at anything that moved. Then, quickly, he waved them over to the dead escalator and down through the piles of warrow bodies to the floor below.

  ~ * ~

  22

  GETTING OUT

  Ivan stayed back until the others started down the gore-drenched staircase. The carnage was terrible.

  But Jordan ran up beside him.

  “We’ll give them cover,” Jordan said.

  “You got it,” Ivan said with a nod.

  And then they, too, went down the slippery staircase, turning and pausing as they did. The corridor was empty but not silent. Whimpering and guttural growls filled the air, and Ivan was tensed—ready for one or more of the wounded creatures to suddenly leap at him.

  Like Jordan, Ivan looked all around the empty room below for any signs of more creatures.

  Is that it? The entire pack is wiped out?

  The only survivors were the handful they had left behind on the balcony, intelligent enough to be cautious after all this carnage.

  And how soon before they regroup and come after us?

  Some may have started nibbling at their fallen companions ... perhaps deciding that the tasty humans were simply too much trouble.

  But as he neared the bottom of the stairs, Ivan saw that wasn’t true of all the warrows. A few big ones began leaping—covering two or three steps at a time—as they came down the stairs, racing toward them.

  “Fuck,” Jordan said.

  Then the gunner turned to the others.

  “Run! Fast as you can! Get the hell back to the SRV!”

  Jordan glanced at Ivan.

  The look, the message was clear.

  It’s you and me, pal. Let’s see how much more you got.

  Bringing up the fucking rear.

  They started firing, Jordan lethal with his small handgun. Ivan used his bigger gun with devastating effectiveness on the warrows that chased after them.

  And all the time they ran backward, taking care not to trip over any of the bodies—human or warrow—that littered the floor.

  A slip, a fall, and those seconds on the ground could mean the difference between life and death.

  And all the time, he saw Jordan watching ... waiting to open fire again.

  “Charge low?” Ivan called to him.

  A nod. Nothing more.

  The others—Annie, the doctor, and the station manager—had reached the main doors and were hurrying outside.

  Are there more creatures out there, waiting to clean up?

  Then, when he and Jordan were almost at the door, the safety of the SRV only a minute or two away, Jordan nodded to the left and said: “Over there.”

  A gesture, Jordan’s free hand came up and pointed.

  More warrows were coming down the corridor to the left, joining forces with the survivors from the battle on the balcony who were spilling down the escalator.

  Jordan glanced at Ivan, then to the door leading outside.

  The others... how far had they gotten?

  All the way back to the SRV?

  Ivan hoped so. Maybe they had bought them enough time.

  “We gotta go for it,” Jordan said.

  Now, instead of a slow, backward move mixed with gunfire—having given the others a gift of protective fire—Ivan followed Jordan, turned, and started running full out for the open door ahead.

  He was about to see if he and Jordan—and the others—had what it took to outrun the animals chasing them.

  Ivan was thinking: About as primal a moment as the universe can deliver.

  ~ * ~

  Sinjira stood by the closed hatch, peering out through the small portal.

  Annie and the others—most of them, anyway—were running across the tarmac, heading back to the SRV The thin blue sunlight threw their nearly invisible shadows on the ground.

  They were moving fast.

  But where was Jordan ... and Gage?

  Sinjira unlatched the door and started to push it open.

  “What—what are you doing?” Ruth asked.

  Sinjira turned on her.

  “Opening ... the god ... damn ... door.”

  Ruth looked out her porthole, then to Sinjira. Her face was twisted.

  Fear will do that, Sinjira thought. Take those soft, smooth curves, and turn them into a grim mask.

  “They’re n-not here yet! Wait.”

  Yeah, right, Sinjira thought, choosing not to listen to her.

  Whatever they were running from had to be close behind.

  No time for them to wait outside while the door opened.

  She hit the controls on the door; a message on the display asked for confirmation as it ran a quick atmosphere and pressure check.

  Another touch, and the door popped open, swinging outward just as the captain, Nahara, and Rodriguez raced up the staircase. Tears and sweat streaked Rodriguez’s face, and Nahara was bleeding. His jacket was stained with blood.

  Into the SRV

  Rodriguez out of his mind, the only one to speak.

  “Close it! They’re coming!”

  Annie led Nahara over to a seat—the one McGowan had been sitting in. He was obviously hurt. Then she looked out the open door.

  Thinking: The crazy scientist might be right.

  ~ * ~

  When Annie settled Nahara into a chair, he let out a loud groan as his head slumped down onto his chest.

  Annie hurried to the hatch, her gun ready—and saw the situation. Jordan and Gage were running hell for leather to the vehicle. She wasn’t sure if she should risk a shot or two at the pursuing beasts.

  Five... no, six warrows were racing toward them, quickly closing the distance with their long, leaping bounds. Jordan and Gage didn’t slow down to aim and shoot. They sent off a few wild shots over their shoulders, but all went wild, scoring the tarmac and taking out a few windows in the terminal.

  Judging the angle of fire, Annie could see that the warrows were too close for her to try to pick off one or two.

  Come on, she thought.

  “Run, you bastards!”

  Not knowing if they could outrun those things or not.

  Still, she could try to divert the creatures.

  Aiming carefully, she fired to one side and then the other of the runners. Each blast scorched the ground and took out huge chunks of tarmac, but the warrows kept coming.

  In the open doorway, Annie watched, her chest aching from not breathing.

  The beasts were closing the gap ...

  Thirty yards ... twenty ... fifteen.

  Until the two men were close enough, and she had enough elevation to shoot over their heads.

  And then they were at the bottom of the stairs ... and up ... and in.

  She slammed the door shut behind them and threw the bolts.

  She turned to them. “What do you say we—”

  She stopped talking when something—the lead warrow—slammed into the side of the vehicle. It sounded loud enough to rock it, and Ruth let out a squeal of fright.

  Annie knew they were safe. There was no way the creatures could tear through the shell of the SRV. They were safe, and she
was smiling with relief as she turned to Jordan.

  He had gone straight over to where Rodriguez sat, panting heavily and bathed with sweat, and grabbed him by the shirt. He screwed up a handful of fabric and all but lifted him out of his seat.

  Nose to nose.

  “What was in—?”

  He gave the scientist a shake, a human rag doll.

  “—that god ... damn ... pod?”

  “Jordan!” Annie shouted.

  Eyes blazing, he turned to face her. His cheeks were flushed. She had never seen him like this.

  Never.

  “He knows something. About this trip. About Omega Nine.” Jordan hiked his thumb in the direction of the terminal. “Maybe even about what just happened in there. And I want to know what it is.”

  Annie frowned.

  “It could endanger all of us,” Jordan said.

  He gave the man another wild shake. Rodriguez’s eyes rolled back. He looked like he was about to pass out.

  “I can’t—I’m not authorized,” he said, his voice faint... defeated.

  Annie stood immobile for a few seconds.

  What the hell?

  Bad enough replaying the Alamo with the warrows back there ... but now this? Jordan—who barely spit out more than three words at a time, who never lost his cool... now his cool, was clearly gone.

  “Jordan, can this wait—?”

  Jordan stared at her. His eyes wild.

  “I can’t have you beating up my passengers.”

  She was trying to infuse calm into her voice, but after what they had just been through, everyone’s adrenaline was soaring.

  But Jordan turned back to Rodriguez.

  “You’ll tell me, Doc. One way or another, you will tell!”

  Then another thought.

  Nahara.

  He was hurt. Slumped in his seat. Looked to be in shock. He needed medical attention now.

  Things are out of control, she thought.

  Her world would spiral out of control if Jordan lost it.

  “He can’t tell you,” Nahara said.

  “What?”

  Jordan. Still holding on to the scientist.

  “He— he’s under World Council orders. He can’t tell you anything. Not unless they say so. He’d get fired.”

  Nahara made a loud watery sound when he coughed.

  Annie went to him.

  “Or worse.”

  Only then did Jordan relent, slowly lowering Rodriguez.

  Annie knelt down in front of Nahara.

  “Let me have a look where it grabbed you.”

  All SRV captains had basic medical training, so Annie was able to deal with most minor medical emergencies.

  She wasn’t so sure when she slowly pulled up Nahara’s shirt. He winced and let out a low moan when the material pulled away from a bloody spot.

  The warrow’s teeth had raked three parallel lines across his ribs. Already, there was evidence of swelling.

  “I’ll have to clean and disinfect those bites.”

  Nahara nodded.

  Everyone in the cabin had their eyes on her.

  She studied the three lines where the warrow had bitten him.

  His left side was okay, only a bruise. Nasty-looking. Big. But the skin was unbroken.

  His right side, though ...

  The gash could be deep. Blood was dripping steadily onto Nahara’s lap.

  Jordan—pulling it together—came over to her with the med kit, already open.

  She grabbed a spray can that would sterilize and cauterize the wound. As she did that, Jordan took out a bandage and antiseptic. She couldn’t put any Nu Skin on until the wound stopped oozing.

  She looked closely at it, being careful as she placed the bandage.

  “Not too bad, Mr. Nahara. All things considered.”

  Still, he needed to have a real doctor take a look at it.

  Next way station, Annie thought.

  She stood up.

  “Okay. We’re going to get the hell out of here.”

  Her eyes fell on Gage sitting quietly in the back.

  Their savior ... still holding his gun.

  She looked at the storage locker, thinking: How the hell did he get a gun?

  Maybe she’d ask one of the others. The Chippie, perhaps.

  She turned to Jordan. Maybe both of them were thinking the same thing.

  We need to get that gun away from him ... at least for the duration of the trip.

  Another thing to deal with later.

  For now?

  “Gage.”

  He looked up with sleepy eyes. The only one who didn’t seem worried or stressed about what had just happened.

  “Thanks for the help.”

  He nodded.

  “We’d all be warrow food if you hadn’t shown up.”

  In the back, Gage nodded again and raised a hand. A slight wave.

  She thought: Who is this guy?

  “We’re leaving here now. Back on the Road. We’ll have to get Mr. Nahara some help at the next station. For now, though, everyone sit tight.”

  She turned to Jordan.

  There was a lot she needed to talk to him about.

  That, though, also had to wait until they were in the cockpit, away from the ears of their ever-more-interesting group of passengers.

  Annie climbed the stairs to the cockpit, Jordan following with none of the passengers saying a word ... maybe from fear ... maybe too numb to feel.

  What does it matter? she thought. We gotta get moving.

  ~ * ~

  23

  SUSPICIONS

  Annie didn’t relax until the SRV slid through the portal.

  First, a check of the Road ahead. No signs of the storm, only the ribbony expanse of lights looking now serene—after what they’d been through— stretching out into space.

  And what about the ion deflectors?

  No more EVAs, that was for sure. So she’d have to wait—and hope they made it to the next station.

  Only then did she turn to Jordan.

  “So what was that all about?”

  Jordan hadn’t spoken since they got back to the cockpit other than single words during the preflight check.

  Although he always kept his thoughts to himself, that total silence— after what had happened—seemed unusual, even for him.

  She kept her eyes on the screen and gauges, making minor adjustments but mostly to simply keep busy.

  Engine’s running good... core’s well within parameters.

  Thank you, McGowan, she thought. We’re alive because of you.

  Jordan’s response: “What’s what all about?”

  “With Rodriguez. I thought you were about to strangle the guy.”

  “I was.”

  She was aware that Jordan had turned and was looking at her. She gave him a quick glance but went back to her screens.

  And since she wasn’t exactly asking the question out of curiosity, she liked keeping her attention focused ... elsewhere.

  “Care to explain?”

  “Okay. That son of a bitch has information from Earth. About what’s ahead. About his mission, on Omega Nine, right?”

  “So?”

  “Any information he has could be vital for us. For our survival. It could give us a heads-up. Especially after that freak show back there at the station.”

  “It’s classified, Jordan. Classified. By the World-freaking-Council. Don’t you get that?”

  His eyes were still on her.

  Then, after a long, uncomfortable pause: “Yeah. So. It’s still dangerous.”