Dropship One

by L. D. P. Samways

  “Yeah, I think it’s pretty safe to say that they are gone,” I said, shaking my head disapprovingly and walking towards Spooks who was checking on the topless woman with the rotor blade sticking out of her back.

  On closer inspection; the rotor blade looked severed and torn. It was jagged and bent. I looked up at the aircraft beside us, tilted on its side like a beached whale gasping for air, and noticed that there was a large indented imprint from the beasts gigantic paw that swatted at it earlier and caused the ship to descend to the ground so rapidly. Surveying the damage of the ship, it was unlikely that we would be finding any survivors. An impact of such force would cause anybody that had been inside the aircraft to be jolted out of their seats and slammed into the metal. I doubted that any of the people that were inside the rescue aircraft were wearing their seat belts or harnesses. Not when they were so close to rescuing us. They would have gotten out of their seats and prepared for a quick extraction. But in doing so, all they had done was cement their death.

  “How many people are usually sanctioned to go on these sorts of missions?” I asked, giving Spooks an inquisitive look.

  But Spooks’ eyes were transfixed on the corpse beneath our feet. Her head was twisted to the right, allowing us to catch a glimpse of her face. She was pretty. She looked at peace. I doubt she felt peace in the final moments of her life, though. God only knew how I would feel in a situation like that. Knowing that I was seconds away from breathing my last breath, I couldn’t imagine the car-crash of thoughts that would have been running and bashing through her skull. Maybe she had thought of family. Maybe she thought of us, leaving us with no chance of rescue. There were some people like that in this world. People that would much rather put themselves at risk to save others than to stand back and save themselves.

  “I don’t know how many people are usually sanctioned on these types of missions, but I have a feeling that they were running a little light here. A two people crew isn’t standard procedure. I’d say that there would be at least six to seven people. So maybe some of them survived and ran into the bushes for cover? Or maybe they burned up inside that tin can next to us? I’m afraid that the only way we are gonna find out is if we wait for the fire to dwindle out completely. Luckily, there isn’t much left of it. Just smouldering metal. But I still wouldn’t risk going inside the aircraft and searching for any survivors, we wouldn’t want to melt our suits now, would we?” Spooks said, momentarily taking his eyes off the woman on the ground and giving me a reassuring look – or at least attempting to.

  But I could see right through that look. If a picture is worth a thousand words, then this look was worth a million. One million doubts rattling within the inside of his skull. But he couldn’t hide those doubts from me. And I’m pretty sure if anybody else was nearby, all they would have to do is look at him and see his crushed spirit.

  That’s all we needed. The man that was supposed to get us out of here doubted the veracity of our very survival. And if he didn’t think we could survive, if he was having doubts, then how the hell weren’t we supposed to feel the same way? The thing is, with doubt comes hesitation. And any inkling of hesitation on the battlefield will only result in one thing; and that’s getting yourself killed. I was about to try and snap him out of his lukewarm gaze when I heard the faint sound of moaning nearby. It sounded as if it was coming from above, in the tree lines on the perimeter of the opening that we now found ourselves in. And just as my head was about to tilt to the left to have a look, I heard another sound. And it was unmistakable. A whisper in the air, followed by a crack in the wind, resulting in a ringing in my ears.

  “Get down, everybody get down!” I said, tackling Spooks to the ground, whilst frantically trying to aim the heavy railgun in my hands. But it was useless, the gun was far too heavy and found itself nose deep in the ashy ground that I was now cowering into. But I had every right to cower, because there was a sniper in the tree line. Just as I suspected, this opening was more than suitable for a successful ambush on the enemy’s front.

  “Sniper at four o’clock, sniper at four o’clock, you know what to do gentleman, protect the high-valued target, codename the native, at all costs!” I said into my visor mounted radio.

  My-heads-up display flickered as my crosshair started to scan the immediate area around me. I knew that I would have to be looking in the direction of the apparent sniper in the ridge if I was going to be able to get a lock on him. But I didn’t want to risk getting my head blown off, so I dug deep into the ground, cowardly using the already dead corpse of the girl at my feet as a shield. I manoeuvred her arm to form a makeshift sandbag on the floor. Sandbags would usually be used to mount a railgun on, acting as support for the heavy weapon as it was being fired. The last thing you wanted to do was set the gun down on the ground and get dirt and debris inside the chamber. A jammed gun was no good on the battlefield.

  “I’ve got eyes on a squadron of infantry pirates heading our way! Around eight! Maybe nine!” I heard somebody say on the radio. I didn’t know who the voice belonged to, but whoever it was had a visual on them. So I decided to order a command. It wasn’t my place to do so, but looking at Spooks, I could see that he was still in his gaze. It was a gaze that had now glazed over his eyes. Most of the Marines called it the fog of war. It was a sight that was common. A sight that was simply explained. Sometimes the brain just switches off. And when it does, it’s usually at the most inopportune times. It’s an unfortunate side-effect of being human, being imperfect, being dog tired. And we were all those things, so the fact that Spooks was experiencing a few problems of his own was nothing to harp on about. It was my job to make sure that he came out of this alive. So I took the initiative.

  “Everybody, fire at will! I repeat – fire at will!” I said, resting my gun on the fleshy mound in front of me. As soon as the railgun touched her flesh, I let loose and opened fire on the tree line.

  My vision was impaired. Every now and then, Spooks would flinch as my railgun fired near him. I did the best as I could to stop any of the shells hitting him as he ducked for cover, but unfortunately I didn’t have control of how the gun kicked back and forth as I ripped and tore at the tree line in front of me. I heard the familiar sounds of reptiles screaming in pain as they were hit by hundreds and hundreds of bullets that were coming from the continuous suppression from the Marines in the open. I myself couldn’t get a bead on any of the reptiles. I was firing blind and firing fast. But on the radio I could hear continuous reports of sightings. Sightings and confirmed kills. Every other second, the ambushers became the victims.

  “I got one right in the head!” I heard Spooks say.

  I turned my head for a second and saw the commander ripping at the reptiles with his very own railgun. He turned his head and smiled at me. The fog of war had disbursed from his vision. And all that was left was anger. These pirates were either stupid or unlucky, because none of them were going to be walking out of this ambush alive. Not if Spooks had anything to do with it. And I was pretty sure that Spooks knew exactly what to do to guarantee our success in this firefight.

  “Good to have you back, Sir! I thought you were gone for a second or two,” I said, continuing to shoot at the tree line in front of me. By now, I’d managed to de-root some of the foliage that had surrounded us. And all that remained was dirt and dust as it hung in the air. Through the dirt and dust, I could see a few shadows. Shadows that belonged to the reptilian pirates.

  “There’s no getting rid of me, kid,” Spooks said, flicking a switch on his railgun.

  It was then that I realized that his gun was modded. Modded weapons were illegal in the Marines, but he’d managed to sneak one in under the radar by the looks of it. Or, because he was such a high-ranking officer, he was able to get away with things that we weren’t. Not that it mattered anyway, it wasn’t like any of us were going to dob him into the commander when we got back on board the ship. All we wanted to do was get off this rock, not into the brig, where we’d be court
-martialled for tattle tailing on a higher up. Unity was everything in our unit. Breaking that unity would warrant a punishment – a punishment that we would surely live to regret.

  “Take cover kid,” Spooks said before pressing down on the trigger with all his might.

  But I was curious, I wanted to see what his modded weapon could do. And I wasn’t disappointed. As he pressed down on the trigger, a massive arc of fire sprayed out of the weapon, shooting flames into every conceivable direction. Trees and plants around us ignited as he continued to press down on the trigger. The screams of the reptilian pirates could be heard. But they weren’t just screaming, they were pleading. They sounded desperate. Desperate for the pain and torture they were feeling to stop. But, Spooks wasn’t going to stop. And I could tell that he was enjoying every second of their ordeal. It was an ordeal that lasted only a few more seconds before every single one of those pirates was as dead as the crew of the rescue craft beside us.

  ***

  All I could smell was smoke. My spacesuit’s sense simulation software was working on overdrive. It was trying to pick up all the little nuances around us. All the different smells. I guess it was trying to establish whether or not any of the smells meant that we were in immediate danger. When there was a large presence of carbon monoxide and carbon dioxide in the air, the suit would usually sound an alarm off to warn its wearer of the dangers in the atmosphere.

  But my suit sensors weren’t working correctly. Neither was the alarm. It was then that I’d noticed that the battery cell on my holster was drained. That in itself was an emergency. An emergency that my spacesuit should have picked up on. But it hadn’t. And I’d only just noticed. And it was a good job that I noticed at all. If one of these Marine issued spacesuits were left without power for a certain amount of time, it could compromise the air filtration on the suit itself, most likely causing the user of the suit to choke to death. So – yes – this was an emergency. An emergency that I thought Spooks would want to hear about.

  “Hey, my suit systems are running low on juice. Any idea how to fix this?” I asked, approaching him as he disengaged the mod on his weapon and chucked it onto the ground.

  Everybody else was catching their breath. Most of them were looking at the floor, probably trying to get their minds around the fact that they were still on the Tribeca planet and nowhere near salvation. The rescue aircraft was toast. And the only people we’d encountered had been dead. So, there was a hell of a lot to think about.

  “If you’re running low on juice, I suggest you try not to overexert yourself. Breathing heavily will only factor into the rapid loss of power on your system. So, I’d save your breath – literally!” Spooks said, not even looking at me, staring at the mod he’d just discarded on the floor. By now, it was caked in mud and dirt. Spooks kicked it into a nearby bush and finally turned to face me.

  “Come on Jensen, what you want me to say? That everything is going to be okay? Not to worry, you’ll be just fine? Look – I don’t have all the answers here son, but I promise you that if there is an answer to the predicament we find ourselves in, I will answer all the questions you have. But for the time being, we’ve got to attempt to contact headquarters once again. I’ve got a few bars on the sat phone, and with any luck we will be able to establish a line of communication with the Core.”

  I nodded and was just about to check the status of my railgun when I heard a noise. And I wasn’t the only one that had heard it. A quiet and tepid hush fell over the squadron as we all looked up at the trees above.

  “You hear that?” I asked, figuring out that it was the obligatory thing to do in a situation like this. And just like in all the horror movies I’d watched as a young child, nothing but silence ensued. Nobody spoke a single syllable. We all remained quiet, waiting for the sound to re-occur.

  My heart was thumping in my chest. I could hear the vain in my neck throbbing and constricting, my blood pressure began to skyrocket. Beads of sweat dripped down my back as I anticipated the mysterious sound echoing nearby again. But the seconds seemed to tick slowly, like a hand on a timepiece moving in slow motion. And with every second that passed, the scorched earth around us seemed to become darker and more menacing. It was like there were shadows closing in on us. The horizon was sinking and the sun above us was overcast. Something bad was about to happen. I could feel it in my gut. Wrenching at the insides of my stomach, pulling at the skin, yanking at my soul.

  “There it is! Is that…” Somebody said, their trail of thought interrupted by a primal scream. A scream that most men recognised. It was the scream of somebody in distress. Somebody – a human – in trouble.

  In what seemed like a well-rehearsed scenario, we all grabbed our weapons, cocking and aiming them in the direction of the scream. We all slowly made our way toward the unmistakable sound of a man sobbing. But, the sound didn’t seem like it was in front of us. Well – it did – but it also sounded like it was above us. In the trees. So we picked up pace, some of us aiming down low, whilst others were aiming up high.

  “Monkeys?” I muttered under my breath.

  But nobody replied. All I could hear was the collective sound of twenty to thirty Marines breathing heavily as they trained their weapons in front of them. Their footsteps were light. And even though we were as tired as was humanly possible, we still had enough gas in the tank to defend ourselves. Defence was exactly what I had on my mind. We had been attacked too many times for me to hold out on any hope that this was anything but danger. Because danger was the only thing I was accustomed to on this planet. There was no hope on here. And you would have to be a foolish person to hold on to hope that never existed in the first place.

  “Up there! There is somebody up in that tree!” One of the guys beside me said, pointing up at the tree in front of us, right on the perimeter of the opening we had fought so valiantly to defend earlier. I could still feel the heat coming off the smouldering aircraft behind me. If I squinted hard enough, I could see particles of ash floating in the air, hitting the bark of the tree in front of me. I slowly looked up, my eyes scanning every branch and every leaf of this particular tree. And then my eyes met the eyes of another man. A man lodged way up high, staring down at me with grateful eyes.

  “What the heck?” Spooks said, also beside me, aiming his gun at the man stuck in the tree. At first, we were all a little on edge. Most of us still had our fingers hovering over our triggers. One false move, and the man in the tree would have probably been blown to kingdom come. But luckily, we all held our nerve just long enough for the man to explain himself.

  “Thank the stars that you found me! I was in that craft over there, the craft that was taken down by that huge hulking beast a few clicks north. I didn’t think we’d survive, but luckily, I’d hit the ejection switch on my seat before we came crashing into the ground. Unfortunately, none of my fellow crew mates had had the foresight to do the same. Please, get me down from this tree,” the man said, flailing a little, leaves and twigs gliding down toward me as he struggled.

  Spooks stopped aiming his weapon at the man, and reached into his utility belt to pull out the scanner he had used earlier on to take a picture of the Marine who had succumbed to the parasite in the river. He turned the scanner on and aimed it at the man. A high-pitched beeping sound began to penetrate my ears.

  “What the hell are you doing? Do you not believe me?” The man in the tree asked, a hint of aggression in his tone.

  But Spooks continued to scan the man, waiting for his screen to go red or green. The Marines around him kept their weapons trained on him. They weren’t taking any chances and neither was Spooks. I suppose I understood their thinking, we’d already been through so much, so it was only natural to assume that everything around us was a threat. Because make no mistake about it, everything around us so far had definitely been a threat.

  “What’s taking so long? Just get me down from here,” the man said, the hint of aggression in his tone turning into outright disdain. It was obv
ious to me that the man was not impressed with any of us. But Spooks wasn’t fazed by the man’s incessant demands. He continued to scan the guy above us until the light on his LCD screen went green.

  “All clear,” Spooks said, holstering his scanner once again. The man in the tree shook his head. His face went a few shades redder than before. Patience was obviously not this particular man's strong point.

  “What a surprise, I’m not an alien! What gave it away? Was it my human body, or the fact that I could speak your fucking language? Just get me down from here!”

  Some of the Marines began to chortle under their breath. I was one of them. This man was making quite a scene, and it wasn’t the first time that a bunch of infantrymen ended up in the bad books of a high-ranking pilot. Some things just don’t change. It was like being back at boot camp. Although nobody had died at boot camp. I couldn’t say the same about this place.

  “Look, I’m sorry for the delay, but I needed to check if you were infected. One of my men nearly cost us this mission because he got infected. And seeing that you don’t have a helmet on, I was worried that the air might have caused you to catch something. But at least now I know that the air is breathable. Which is good, seeing that we have no way of getting off this planet yet, so it’s nice to know that we won’t suffocate to death,” Spooks said, turning to two faceless Marines and gesturing them to climb up the tree.

  They did as he said, and within a few minutes, they had managed to cut the flailing man in the tree down. Unfortunately, the man hadn’t listened to their orders and managed to tumble down a few branches, snapping one of them and landing hard on the floor. Which of course made the remainder of the Marines on the ground burst out laughing. Not the best start to our new found friendship with this stranger. But then again, when have humans ever been welcoming to outsiders?