by Ron Schrader
“Keep up,” Kalla said as she led the way back to the ship.
It wasn’t long before they reached the small town, but wanting to avoid any further confrontation, they kept moving. It also didn’t hurt that it was dark outside, which helped to conceal their escape, and they made it to the mountain pass without any resistance.
“I think we’re in the clear,” Kalla finally said. She slowed her pace to a complete stop. Turning to Davis, she asked, “Mind telling me what that was back there?” She stared at him with raised brows and folded arms, and waited for his reply.
“I . . . uh, I’m not sure,” he said, fumbling for a response. There was an awkward silence in the air for a moment, then he continued. “A few bullets hit me, and I went down. I just got scared, and all I could think to do was stay down and protect myself. But the bullets just kept hitting me and I didn’t know what to do.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about,” Kalla interrupted.
Jarek stood behind Davis and tried unsuccessfully to conceal a smile.
“I know, the soldier. I’m getting to that part,” Davis replied. “Like I said, the bullets kept coming, but eventually they didn’t hurt anymore, they just made me mad. When I heard you yell, I just kinda lost it.”
“Yeah, you did,” Jarek said, no longer able to hold in his laughter. “Looked like you were eating that guy.”
Davis began to fidget, staring at the ground. “No, I was kind of shocked myself, at what I was doing,” he finally said. “I mean, I had a guy’s throat in my mouth, and it wasn’t exactly a pleasant thing.” He paused again, then said, “Been thinking about it, but shouldn’t we go back and make sure he’s actually dead? Make sure he doesn’t turn?”
Kalla looked at Jarek with her head cocked to one side and rolled her eyes. “He’s right,” she agreed.
Jarek nodded. “Yeah, the last thing we need is for Quinn to have a soldier like us,” Jarek said.
“I’ll do it, then,” Davis volunteered. “It’s my problem, let me take care of it.”
“You sure you got this?” Kalla asked.
“Yeah, that little scuffle back there gave me a pretty good taste of what I’m capable of. Besides that, I think I scared most of them off.”
“Just no more tasting the locals, okay?” Jarek added with a grin.
Kalla frowned at Jarek, then turned and smiled at Davis. “Yeah, we’ve got to be careful. We don’t know enough about ourselves, what this all really means. We just can’t let this get out of control. Alright?”
“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry. You two head back to the ship and wait for me there. I’ll hurry.”
Kalla nodded and watched as Davis turned back in the direction of the base. “Try to stay out of sight,” she called out.
Once he was out of her view, Kalla reached for Jarek’s hand, pulled him toward her, and kissed him. “I’ve been wanting to do that since you left the ship,” she whispered when their lips separated.
Jarek smiled. “Think he’ll be alright?”
“Wait, so I kiss you and you’re thinking about Davis?” she answered playfully.
“Well, no, just . . .”
Kalla broke out in laughter. “Let’s get to the ship,” she said. “It’s not too much farther.” Still holding his hand, she led the way.
~
Davis approached the fence with caution, scanning the area for any immediate threat. Instead, he found the guard towers were empty, and no signs of life in the open courtyard. What he did find were bodies scattered about, casualties of the battle he’d been part of.
After a final survey of the perimeter, making certain he was in the clear, Davis jumped, launching himself over the fence and back inside the base. He landed in a crouch and scanned the area one last time, but he found nothing new.
He slowly stood and walked toward the area where he’d been surrounded, searching for the body he’d come to retrieve. His senses were heightened, on alert, as he walked toward the fallen soldier, but there was no sign of life. “It’s like a ghost town,” he muttered to himself, when he reached the first pile of bodies.
Anxious to get back to the ship, he continued searching the ground for the soldier he’d bitten, and after a few minutes, he picked up a familiar scent. He followed the smell, which led him straight to the body he’d come to find.
Davis stared at the lifeless man and replayed the earlier events in his mind. It had all started when bullets began to hit him, and the rest was a blur. He remembered the feeling of being enraged, but his actions had not been his own, or so it seemed at the time. Then he had heard Kalla yelling, and he woke from the trance.
He crouched down next to the soldier and located the bite marks on the man’s neck. It wasn’t gruesome like he’d expected it to be, just two puncture wounds, and some dried blood that had dripped down the neck and shoulder. Must have bled out, he thought. Did I swallow some of his blood? The very thought made him cringe a little.
He reached out and touched the man’s hands. They were cold and without a pulse. The soldier was obviously dead and gone, but Davis wasn’t taking any chances. He grabbed hold of the corpse by the arms and lifted the dead soldier to his feet. Then, with almost no effort at all, he hoisted the body over his shoulder and headed toward the fence.
As he walked through the courtyard, an eerie feeling lingered in the back of his mind. It bothered him that everyone living had vanished so fast, and he couldn’t help but feel that this was too easy. But there wasn’t a soul in sight, and he made it to the front gate without any resistance.
With the body still draped over his shoulder, Davis awkwardly jumped the fence, barely clearing it with the added weight, and landed off balance on the other side. He took a deep breath, repositioned the load on his shoulder, and started running back toward the ship.
~
Kalla was sitting on the ramp of her ship when Davis approached. “Why’d you bring him back with you? You could have just made sure he was dead and left him there.”
“I’m sure he’s dead, just didn’t want to take any chances,” Davis replied.
“Fair enough. I’ve got a freezer in the cargo hold. We’ll stick him in that for now and figure out what to do with him later.”
Davis nodded.
When they reached the cargo hold, Kalla opened the freezer. “Grab that shrink wrap,” she said, pointing to a thick blue tube that hung on the opposite wall.
Davis changed course, grabbed the shrink wrap tube, and returned to the freezer.
“Why’d you bring it back with you?” Jarek called out from the entrance.
“Already asked him that,” Kalla replied. “Just a precaution.” She reached out and took the shrink wrap from Davis. “You hold him up, I’ll wrap.”
Davis nodded and followed her instruction, watching as she skillfully wrapped the body from head to toe. Once she was done, Davis laid the corpse in the freezer and shut the lid.
“So, you good?” Kalla asked Davis.
His head dropped and he stared at the floor for a moment. “Yeah,” he said. “It’s a lot to take in.”
Kalla reached out and put her hand on his shoulder. “I know,” was all she said.
“Can we get outta here now?” Jarek interrupted.
Kalla turned and nodded.
A few minutes later, the ship lifted off the planet’s surface and Kalla set a course for Paradise.
C
HAPTER 13
It was early in the morning when Dal walked into the medical facility, and as he’d expected, no one else was there. He entered a dimly lit room, pulled out a flashlight, and made his way to a row of locked supply cabinets. Shining the light back and forth across them, he realized they all looked the same. He laughed at the irony of the situation. No one was around to question his reason for being here, but this also meant he’d have to find what he was looking for on his own.
Dal shined the light across the cabinets one more time, and as it reached the end of the row, he noticed a thin
piece of metal stuck to the outside of the last door. If not for a slight shadow from the angle of the light, he’d have missed it altogether.
He walked toward it and reached out his hand to find that, sure enough, it was not part of the cabinet. He pressed his hand against it, and the flat object slid across the metal as his fingers fumbled to grab hold of it. When he finally secured it with his fingertips, he pulled it from the cabinet door and saw that it was a magnetic key card.
He examined it for a moment, then tried it in the cabinet it had been stuck to. The card went in and a quick beep indicated the lock had been opened, allowing him access. He immediately searched the contents of the cabinet and determined that what he needed wasn’t there. He shut the door and tried the key card in the next one, and again the cabinet opened. But a few minutes of searching its contents left him with the same result as before.
He repeated this process tediously, moving from cabinet to cabinet, until he finally reached one that the key card wouldn’t open. “Figures,” he mumbled, knowing something as potent as chloromex would have to be in the one cabinet he couldn’t open.
In frustration, Dal pulled on the cabinet handle with all his strength, but the solid metal door refused to give. It became immediately apparent that, to get what he needed, he was going to have to break in. This meant leaving evidence that he—or someone—had been here, which seemed unavoidable now.
Time was not on his side, so he let go and backed away from the cabinet. He looked around the room for something he could use to pry the door open, but after several minutes, came up empty. Officially out of options now, he let out a sigh, knowing exactly what he needed to do. The only way he was going to get his hands on any chloromex was with the help of his uncle.
He hurried out of the med center and down the hallway toward his uncle’s room, but when he arrived at the door, he froze. Trying to convince himself this had to be done, he reached his hand toward the keypad on the wall and attempted to open the door, but found it was locked. He wasn’t about to try and break in. He probably couldn’t even if he wanted to, so instead he decided to just knock.
After what seemed like an eternity of standing in the silent hallway, the door finally opened part way, and the old man peered out from the dark room. “What is it?” he asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Dal?” he said, with a confused look on his wrinkled face.
“I need some chloromex,” Dal said promptly.
“You need what? It’s late . . .” Henry tensed up and yawned. “Or early. Don’t know, but I’m tired, son.”
“I’m sorry, but . . .” Dal hesitated, struggling with what he was about to do.
“Son, unless it’s an emergency, we can talk in the morning, when I’m awake. I’m going back to bed.”
Henry reached to the inner control panel to shut the door, but before he could, Dal’s hand shot into the room and grabbed hold of his arm.
He took a deep breath and looked his uncle in the eyes and said, “Really am sorry, but I ain’t asking.” Before he’d finished the sentence, his free hand had located his pistol, which was now aimed at his uncle’s chest.
“Are you serious, Dal?” Henry glared at him in complete disbelief.
Dal could hear the disappointment in his uncle’s voice, and a sudden wave of regret rushed over him. His hands began to shake, and he nearly lost his grip on the pistol. He knew deep down he could never hurt his uncle, and the moment he accepted that fact, he slowly lowered the weapon and placed it back in its holster. “I’m sorry, but I got no choice. Ya gonna help me er not?”
Henry squinted as he stared Dal down. “Why?” he asked, opening the door all the way.
“You weren’t there,” Dal replied. “You didn’t see that monster when he killed Tuck. Murphy says he’s up to somethin’ bad, and I need your help so I can save us all.” There was no doubt in his words, and he stared back with conviction, believing that what he was doing was the right thing, the only thing.
Without saying a word, Henry quietly backed away and disappeared into the dimly lit room. Less than a minute later he returned and extended his arm out the open door. “Well, take it,” Henry insisted.
Dal snatched the key card from his uncle’s hand and stood speechless.
“You’ve always been a good boy. If anyone asks, I’ll just tell ’em I lost it,” he smiled.
Dal smiled and said, “Thank you.”
Henry scowled back. “You better know what you’re doin’,” he said. “And don’t you ever point a gun at me again, ya hear?”
“Yes, sir,” Dal nodded, then backed away as his uncle shut the door, leaving him alone in the empty hallway once again.
~
“You awake?” Dal asked, gently pressing on Murphy’s shoulder.
Murphy let out a groan. “Am now,” he answered. “Thought you were gonna let me rest another day?”
“Yeah, well, things changed. Don’t got no time now. We gotta get.”
“What do you mean, we gotta get?”
“I’ll explain later. Just best if we go now.”
Murphy gave him an agitated look and folded his arms. “Or explain now,” he requested.
Dal shook his head. “Look, I kinda had to threaten my uncle. Pulled a gun on him. But I got the chloro . . . whatever it’s called.”
Murphy shook his head. “Are you kidding me?” Then with a struggle, he tried to sit up but fell back down, grimacing in pain.
“My uncle ain’t gonna say nothin’, but we really ought to get goin’ all the same.”
Still on his back, Murphy asked, “You said you did get the chloromex?”
Dal reached into a satchel that hung over his shoulder and pulled out a thin, cylinder-shaped container. He popped the lid open and handed it to Murphy. “Here ya go,” he said.
Murphy looked inside. “Looks like about a dozen syringes. I take it they’re all full and ready to go?” he asked, as he pulled one out, examining it closely.
Dal nodded. “Should be.”
“Alright, then,” Murphy said. He stared at the syringe for a moment, then stabbed the needle into his shoulder and injected the fluid.
“Did it work?” Dal asked, once Murphy had removed the needle.
“Give it a minute. It’s not magic.”
“Yeah, right. Well, any idea how long them things last?”
“Not sure,” Murphy said, attempting to sit up again. “But it is starting to work. The pain’s not so bad now.”
“Good. Let’s get then. Need to find us a ship.”
“Right,” Murphy said. He slowly slid to the edge of the bed and placed his feet on the floor. Then, after some hesitation, he stood up. Once upright, he stretched his arms to the ceiling, which seemed to generate a yawn, followed by more stretching. “Still hurts a bit,” he managed through the yawn, “but I think I’m good.”
“That’s good cause we really need to get goin’,” Dal encouraged.
Murphy finished stretching and made eye contact with Dal. “So what’s this about needing to find a ship? Shouldn’t you have figured that out before you held your uncle at gunpoint?”
“I know, I know,” Dal said, shaking his head. “I dun it all backwards, but I do know where one is. Just not certain if it’ll work.”
“Well this just keeps gettin’ better and better,” Murphy replied. “And what happens if the ship doesn’t work out?”
“Just git dressed.” Dal said. “I’ll be out in the hall waitin’ for ya.”
“I guess thanks for the chloromex, at least,” Murphy said as Dal left the room.
~
By the time the two men reached one of the ship’s outer doors, Dal could tell the chloromex was definitely working, and much better than either of them had expected. “You alright?” he asked Murphy, who had lost his balance and caught himself against the wall.
“Don’t really feel any more pain, so that’s good. Also don’t feel my legs right now.” His eyebrows raised as he smiled.
“Yer a
ctin’ a bit drunk. Ya gonna be able ta fly?”
“Nah, I ain’t drunk. Just feelin’ good. Let’s keep goin’. Get to the ship. See how it goes.”
Dal shook his head, then turned toward a storage locker near the exit and reached inside. “Yer gonna need a breathin’ mask,” he said, tossing it to Murphy.
“Sounds good,” Murphy replied, shuffling his feet and reaching out to catch the mask.
Dal watched the mask fall to the floor, followed by Murphy as he tried to catch it. He reacted quickly, squatting down to help Murphy back to his feet.
“I think you’ll probably need to help me walk,” Murphy said as he struggled to stand up, even with Dal’s help.
“No kiddin’.” Dal turned his back to Murphy and said, “Can you grab holda my shoulders?”
Murphy let out a muffled laugh. “Sure, I’ll try,” he said, just before slipping the mask over his face. Then he threw his arms around Dal’s neck. “Probably good it’s still dark out,” he added.
“Well, yeah, that’s kinda the point. You know, so we don’t get caught.” Dal shook his head. “I sure hope that medicine wears off soon. At least enough so ya can fly.” He grabbed Murphy’s arms and took on his full weight. “And so ya can walk by yerself,” he grunted from the strain of the added weight.
“Don’t you worry,” Murphy said, as he started to giggle. “We’re gonna be just fine. You’ll see.”
Dal disagreed, and was beginning to think this plan was going to fail before it even got off the ground. Even if they made it to the ship, and it worked, he had his doubts that Murphy would be sober enough to fly. “Well, hold on,” Dal said as he started walking toward the airlock.
“Copy that,” Murphy muttered.
Dal opened the airlock door and stepped inside. After he pressed a combination of buttons on a wall panel, the door closed and the pressure in the room dropped enough that his ears plugged up. Then a red flashing light came on, indicating the outer door was about to open.