Blood Thirsty (Tri System's Edge Series Book 2)

by Ron Schrader

  With the thrust of the cruiser’s powerful engines, he was able to spread the fog in areas just long enough to gain a brief glimpse of the valley floor before the fog closed back up like a curtain. “Fascinating,” he said.

  His plan had been to find a village or town, where he might procure some live bait, but after over an hour of unsuccessful searching, he was slightly irritated that no signs of life were to be found. He did see random creature sightings along the way, but there were no people living in the fog covered valley. That meant any plans of capturing a specimen would have to be postponed for now.

  As he considered his options, knowing that catching one of the creatures wasn’t currently one of them, it occurred to him that these things may have had something to do with Kalla and her abilities. He had no idea how, but something in his gut told him there was a connection.

  The general brushed off the idea for now and began to steer the ship up and away from the fog. But just as he began to pull up, his thrusters opened a section of fog long enough to catch a glimpse of something familiar; a woman, Kalla, running toward the ship. A loud thud suddenly echoed through the hull, followed by a sick feeling in his chest. He knew exactly what she was capable of, and she was presently hanging onto the outside of the cruiser.

  Staying focused, he wasted no time as he piloted the ship straight up and into a barrel roll, hoping it would be too much for Kalla to handle, until he could no longer stomach the spinning himself. Now high above the planet’s surface, he straightened the cruiser out, ignited full thrusters, and shot up into space.

  ~

  The moment Kalla heard the cruiser she knew there was a possibility that General Quinn was the pilot, and if he was, that meant revenge was within reach. The visual confirmation as the ship passed by made her smile, and she sprang toward it, punching her hand through the thick outer layer of metal and grabbing hold of the ship. She had no intention of letting him get away this time.

  What she didn’t expect was the general’s quick response as he spiraled the ship upward through the sky. The force was much greater than anything she could have anticipated, and all the strength she could muster wasn’t enough to maintain her hold. By the second roll of the ship, she was thrown like a rag doll, and sent hurtling toward the planet below.

  It was several hours later before she finally awoke on a sandy beach, with water rushing over her face as the tide moved in.

  Kalla pushed herself to her knees and crawled toward dry sand, collapsing again in exhaustion. She managed to roll over onto her back just in time to see the sun disappear beneath the horizon. Then she blacked out.

  C

  HAPTER 2

  Standing outside the ship, Davis watched with satisfaction as the two figures in the distance merged into one. He assumed the large man Kalla embraced had to be Jarek, and he smiled as he watched the happy reunion. Relief swept over him. He was happy for Kalla, but equally happy to have finally broken free of the general, who was now dead thanks to Kalla. At least that’s what they both believed.

  It was dumb luck that Davis heard the faint clang of a boot against the metal floor of the ship, alerting him to the unexpected presence of someone behind him. He turned around just in time to dodge the first lunge of General Quinn’s blade. And with that, the violent scuffle began.

  After he managed to push the general a few feet backwards, Davis unsheathed his own knife and charged forward, catching the general off guard. Although he missed his intended target, the general’s broad chest, Davis still managed to do some damage, as his sharp blade sliced across the general’s thigh. Davis grinned with pride. “There’s more where that came from,” he boasted.

  General Quinn scowled from the pain, but he didn’t pause to deal with the wound. Instead, he quickly retaliated by rushing toward Davis, ramming him with his shoulder, and knocking him off balance.

  Davis’ strength seemed to vanish in an instant as the cold blade appeared from out of nowhere. As if in slow motion, it pierced deep inside his chest, and his own weapon fell to the ground as he grasped the general’s arms, trying desperately to stay on his feet. Then, without warning, the general pulled the knife out. He smiled methodically and wiped the blood from his knife onto the right sleeve of Davis’ shirt before giving him a push. Gravity did the rest. When Davis hit the ground, the general knelt down next to him for a moment and looked him in the eyes. His lip quivered until he was almost smiling. “You betrayed me,” he said in a raspy voice. “You deserve this.” Then he jumped up and disappeared into the ship.

  Gasping for air, Davis could only lay helpless on the rocky ground as he listened to the roaring engines of the ship, then watched it shoot off into the evening sky. His vision began to blur just moments before Kalla suddenly filled his entire view as she leaned over him. He could see her talking, and she looked distressed, but he seemed unable to hear any sound, as he felt his mind begin to drift away. Just before everything went dark, he felt a mild sting in his shoulder.

  ~

  Davis awoke to a sour, putrid stench, one that he recognized from his work in the mine shaft. It was the smell of decaying bodies. But it wasn’t the smell that concerned him most; it was the fact that he found himself in a confined space. To make matters worse, he could barely move his arms and legs inside the tightly wrapped cloth that seemed to be covering him from head to toe.

  He frantically began to wiggle his arms, slowly moving them up to his torso and toward his face, and after some unpleasant effort, he succeeded in getting his hands above his chest. With his palms facing outward, he pushed against the tight cloth until it began to tear, eventually creating enough of a hole for him to grab the outer edges with his hands and pry the cloth open. That’s when the stench really hit him hard, and he began to gag. “Hello?” he called out, hoping someone would hear him and come to his aid.

  Davis only waited for a few minutes before he proceeded to finish rescuing himself. He reached his arms out of the hole in the cloth and pushed in opposite directions, until there was enough room to wiggle his head and shoulders through the opening and sit up. Looking around the room, Davis found himself surrounded by at least a half dozen body bags, all lined up next to him on a dingy floor. The room itself wasn’t very big, and aside from the other bodies, appeared to be empty.

  “Is this some kind of joke?” he blurted out rather loudly, again hoping someone outside the room might hear him. But just as before, he was met with silence.

  Shaking his head in disbelief, he worked his way out of the body bag and slid the cloth down his legs until he was finally free. He stood up and stretched, reaching his arms high above his head, and suddenly he remembered what had happened, that he’d been stabbed. His hands immediately dropped to his chest and began feeling across his skin for the wound the general had inflicted, but to his surprise and amazement, there wasn’t so much as a scratch to be found. He was confused, but as his eyes searched for signs of the injury he’d received, they verified what his hands had already told him. The knife wound was gone. There wasn’t a hole, nor were there stitches patching up the injury. Not even a scratch could be seen. At that same moment, his eyes alerted him to another truth he hadn’t yet realized—he wore no clothes.

  “They must have really thought I was dead,” he said, still very puzzled by the situation. He shook his head again and began to look around the room for something to wear. His previous survey of the small room told him it was empty, but in one corner, he noticed a few white lab coats hanging on the wall.

  He moved toward them and pulled the largest one he could find from an old nail it hung on. It was clear the coat was used, and hadn’t been washed in quite some time, but without any other options, Davis slid his arms inside and wrapped the coat around him, holding it shut in front with one hand.

  He cautiously walked toward the door and peered through the small window into a well-lit, clean hallway. Seeing no one in sight, Davis quietly opened the door and exited the room. “Now how do I get out of this place
?” he whispered to himself, looking back and forth down each stretch of hallway. “Guess I’ll go this way,” he said, shaking his head and laughing under his breath. Although perplexed by the odd situation he found himself in, he still saw a small degree of humor in it all.

  The end of the hallway presented him with only one option, a sharp right, which he followed a short distance until he reached a dead end with a door that he found to be locked. A quick glance behind him confirmed he was still alone, after which he grabbed the knob again firmly and began twisting, hoping he could force it open. With almost no effort at all, the knob broke loose in his hand. He stared at the now broken door knob he held in his hand, and decided it was probably just old and worn out. It all seemed a bit odd to him, but he couldn’t think of another reason for it to break so easily.

  He shrugged his shoulders and tossed the knob to the floor, then pushed against the door until it cracked open, letting the warm rays of sunlight from outside flood into the hallway.

  Davis stepped outside for just a moment before the exposed skin on his hands, face, and legs began to feel as if on fire. He saw nothing visibly, but having burned himself before he recognized the pain and fell back inside the protection of the building. Once he was inside, the discomfort vanished almost instantly.

  “What the . . .?” He blurted out in confusion. He examined his arms, but found no sign of burns of any kind. Maybe something’s up with the sun on this planet? he wondered.

  Wanting to confirm his suspicions, Davis reached his arm out into the sunlight once more. The burning sensation quickly returned, but this time he didn’t budge, watching the skin on his arm as the pain increased. Again, no visible evidence of a burn developed, so he continued to endure the pain, until eventually, he noticed it less and less.

  After some hesitation and internal debate, Davis stepped outside and started walking away from the building. He did his best to ignore the painful sensation of the sun on his skin, until it finally faded to the point that he hardly noticed it at all.

  Once he’d put some distance between himself and the building, he turned around to find he was at the edge of what appeared to be a small town, and when he looked ahead again, he noticed a couple of figures off in the distance. As he drew closer, Davis saw they were two armed men on patrol, probably guarding the town’s perimeter.

  Suddenly everything felt familiar. He recalled his view from the ship just before the general had attacked him. He was definitely still on Paradise, and not far from where they had landed. That also meant Kalla had to be somewhere nearby.

  He ran toward the armed soldiers until he was only a few meters from them. “Hey!” he called out. “I need some help.”

  “Nice outfit,” one of the men said with a grin.

  “Yeah, whatever,” Davis replied, ignoring the sarcastic remark. “Listen, do you know Kalla? I need to find her.”

  The soldier hesitated for a moment, looking Davis up and down. “Where’s your clothes?”

  Davis was getting impatient. “I don’t know,” he said. “Woke up in your morgue.”

  The soldier tightened his grip on his weapon, and stared at Davis with a concerned look.

  “Well?”

  Scratching his face, the guard said, “See that metal building over there?” He pointed to the right of where Davis had just come from.

  “Yeah,” replied Davis. “She’s in there?”

  “Don’t know, but you’ll find Reav there. Maybe he can help. Might want to see if he has some clothes you can borrow, too,” he snickered.

  “Yeah,” Davis said, as he turned away from the guard. “Thanks.”

  After a short jog, Davis approached the building to find another soldier standing guard. “I need to see Reav,” he said impatiently.

  “What’s your business here?”

  “Look, I don’t have time for this,” Davis said, as he pushed the soldier aside and reached for the door. But before he could step inside the building, he felt the blow of a gunstock against the back of his head.

  “Step away from the door!” the soldier ordered.

  Davis turned to face his assailant who was visibly nervous, likely wondering why the blow hadn’t knocked Davis unconscious. “You hit like a girl,” Davis said, as he rubbed the back of his head, wondering if the guard had intentionally hit him so soft. “Look, I just need to find Kalla,” he said matter-of-factly. “I came here with her, but woke up in your morgue.”

  The soldier’s weapon dropped slightly as he backed away. “You’re the one . . . that died?” he asked, a look of distress on his face.

  “Well, do I look dead to you?” Davis asked. “Now about Reav. Is he here?”

  The soldier fumbled to find the radio attached to his belt, then, bringing it to his mouth, began to speak in a mumbled tone. Once the static went dead, he motioned Davis inside. “Reav will be down right away.”

  Davis waited for several minutes before the door finally opened.

  “Hello, Davis,” came the greeting from the rough, middle-aged man that stood just inside the doorway. “I’m Reav,” he continued. “Why don’t we go upstairs, and—”

  “I need to see Kalla,” Davis said, cutting him off mid-sentence.

  “I’d like nothing more than to make that happen,” Reav answered. “I’m sure you’ve got questions only she can answer, but Kalla’s not here at the moment.”

  “Well, where is she?”

  Reav seemed nervous and leaned back against the door. “Honestly, I don’t know where she is, but I’m sure she’ll be back soon. We’ll wait for her together in my office if that’s alright with you.” He then turned and quickly headed across the room toward a stairway and started up the steps. “You coming?” he asked, before disappearing around the corner.

  A bit agitated, Davis walked past the guard and followed Reav up the stairs. Upon entering the office, he noticed the large windows overlooking the village. “Some view you’ve got,” he said, as his eyes searched for any sign of Kalla.

  “Yes, it is,” Reav replied with a smile. “Please, have a seat.” He motioned with his hand, pointing to a chair across the table from where he’d already sat down.

  Davis paused for a moment, and stared at Reav, who appeared to be nervous. Unclear why, he decided to sit, thinking it might put Reav at ease. “While we wait, can you please explain to me why I was in your morgue?”

  Reav noticeably squirmed in his chair. “Well,” he began, “you were clinically dead.”

  “What? That makes no sense!” Davis shot back in anger. “Do I look dead to you?” He paused, waiting for a reply.

  Reav shrugged his shoulders and shook his head.

  “Maybe your doctors here need more training,” Davis added.

  There was a long, uncomfortable silence before Reav began to softly speak. “They were certain you’d died, and when we couldn’t find Kalla or Jarek, the staff was instructed to move you to our morgue. You had no vitals,” Reav insisted.

  “Well, they were obviously wrong,” Davis said with a sneer, still annoyed by the entire situation.

  “Obviously,” Reav agreed. “I’m so sorry about this.”

  Davis shook his head and half smiled. “So, then you don’t know where Kalla is?” he said, leaning back in the chair.

  “No, I’m sorry about that, too,” Reav said. “She left a couple days ago, and when she didn’t come back, Jarek went looking for her. That was yesterday . . .”

  “Wait, how long was I in your morgue?” Davis interrupted.

  “You died two days ago, just after Kalla—”

  Cutting Reav off again, Davis stood up and began to laugh. “Are you joking? This is a joke, right?”

  Reav tensed up and it was clear to Davis he was uncomfortable. “Please sit down. We’ll find Kalla, and I’m sure we can get this whole misunderstanding resolved.”

  “She’s different, you know,” said Davis, as he sat back down in the chair. “Maybe she—”

  “Bit you,” interrupted Rea
v. “I know she’s different. I’ve seen what she’s capable of. She and Jarek, both. I was there, watched her do it. Wasn’t sure why, but it’s starting to make sense.”

  “I don’t know Jarek—just what Kalla’s told me about him—but I’ve seen her in action with my own eyes.” Davis looked down at the table in front of him and began to recall his scuffle with General Quinn. He played it out in his mind and cringed when he remembered the knife going into his chest. “It was bad, wasn’t it, what the general did?”

  “Yeah, it was pretty bad,” said Reav. “It was the kind of thing you don’t come back from, and yet . . . here you are.”

  Davis nodded, still staring down at the table. “I should go look for her,” he said. He abruptly stood up again. “I need to know what’s going on.”

  “Before you do anything,” Reav interjected, “let’s get you some clothes to wear. We should still have your things, so give me a few minutes to find them.”

  “Right,” Davis agreed. “I’ll probably need a new shirt, though.”

  C

  HAPTER 3

  Kalla could hear the crackling sound of a fire as she came to, and when she opened her eyes, Jarek was staring down at her with a concerned look on his face. She realized he was cradling her head in his lap, and she smiled at him.

  “’Bout time,” he said.

  “What happened? Where are we?” she asked. She started to move, but stopped when she noticed the mild headache she had. She pressed her hand against her head, attempting to dull the pain, but otherwise remained still.

  “On a beach,” Jarek replied. “Don’t know what happened, though. Thought you’d be able to tell me.”

  Kalla tried to remember, but the headache seemed to steal her focus. “Well, how did you find me?” she finally asked.

  “Just kept looking, and got lucky, I guess. Don’t know how you got here, though. You really don’t remember?”