Jeff looked at the near comatose captain wishing for the man to pull through.
“I can’t stress how urgent the situation is Commander. Once that bag’s empty I’m out drugs. I have a few single dose vials left, but not enough to keep him under. I don’t know what’s happening inside of him, and I need the portable scanners and every last drop of whatever’s on that med bird.”
“Pierce and I are going to head out at first light, storm or no storm, and see what we can do,” Jeff reassured her looking about the room. “Where’s Teak?”
“If you’re referring to Lieutenant Jacobs he was getting on my nerves. So I shot his knee up with cortisol and sent him hobbling off.” She must have sensed Jeff’s misgivings adding, “He’ll be fine. Once we get him topside to a proper sickbay at least.” Leaning back, she massaged a temple as if fighting a headache. “He’s the least of my concerns,” she continued with a sigh, “Apart from the captain’s condition I have to keep an eye on Wisniewski.”
Russell turned indicating the private. He was sitting near the back of the room staring off at nothing. Jeff walked over to the man bending down to look into his eyes. “He’s got some sort of shell shock,” Russell called across the room, “Never seen the like before.” Neither had Jeff; at least not on anyone living. The man’s eyes were lifeless and cold. It was enough to give him chills.
Straightening Jeff instinctively pulled out another cigarette chastising himself for using them as a crutch. Stopping by Russell on his way to the door he placed a hand on her shouldering saying, “Try to get some rest. We may be stuck here for a while.”
***
The wind was still gusting at a good clip when Jeff and Sergeant Pierce rolled out from the complex. They’d found a small utility truck, little more than a spaceport tram with a bed, and were pushing it for all it was worth up rough terrain towards the east. Just cresting the horizon, the sun cast long shadows before them and already promised another blistering hot day on Euphrates. Leaning out the passenger door Jeff lobbed a survey drone one of the marines had found in a storage locker into the air. The miniature turbines buzzed as the device lifted swiftly into the air.
“Now let’s hope the damn thing still works,” Jeff said picking up the remote.
“Jest wish we’d found it yestaday,” Pierce grunted. Spitting a brown hawker he added, “Might coulda made shit a lot simpla.”
“Amen,” Jeff agreed. Tweaking the controls, he began maneuvering the device squinting at the remote’s screen. The image was fuzzy but salvageable and it didn’t take him long to home in on their target. “I found the shuttle,” Jeff announced, “what’s left of it anyway. Damn thing came down in some kind of ravine or crater.” Fidgeting with the controls he zoomed the camera in on the scene. “Lots of debris.”
Pierce spit and muttered around his wad of tobacco, “How far?”
“Maybe twenty klicks,” Jeff said absently pulling the drone back up, “This ridgeline flattens inside another ten.” He heard Pierce grunt as the small truck hugged the slope of the ridgeline. “I can’t seem to locate the damn loader though.”
“Check the ravine we was in yestaday. Thing was chuggin hard so it might notta made it out.”
“Yep, there it is,” Jeff announced after a few minutes, “Looks like they abandoned it about five klicks west of the crater.” Setting the drone to run a close circular search pattern he pressed a finger to his earbud. “Corporal Speight this is Commander Grant, do you copy, over.”
Gabbled static answered him. He wasn’t sure if it was just interference or not, but hope began to build in him that the three marines were still alive. He was about to call out again when a faint broken transmission crackled through the radio. “We re…Lieuten….mander. Pl…coordinates.”
Jeff punched the trucks dashboard in triumph announcing, “Things are looking up Gunny!” He was about to ask Speight to repeat her transmission when a signal flare shot into the sky. Jeff was quick to maneuver the drone into the vicinity finally spotting the beleaguered unit and in minutes the small truck was pulling up to the disheveled hunkered down trio near the edge of the ridge.
As Jeff stepped from the truck he heard Speight bite, “Get up!” Hauling Daniels to his feet by the scruff of his fatigues she pushed the man forward towards the truck. He was about to ask what was going on when she shoved Daniels face first into the dirt before the utility vehicle.
“What’s this all about Speight?” Pierce asked.
“Private Dipshit here,” she growled kicking Daniels, “blew up what was left of the med bird!”
“There was a fucking Drac sitting on top of it,” Daniels protested. Pushing himself to his knees Jeff noticed the telltale signs of a significant shiner beginning to form around his left eye.
“It was a Goddamned bat meat head!” Speight shrieked.
“She’s crazy Gunny!” Daniels whined, “Either the sun or the storm snapped something in her bull dyke head.”
Speight lunged at him shouting obscenities. Fortunately for the private, Pierce was quick to grab a hold of her throwing her back. “Control yourself Corporal!” he shouted. “What happened?”
“Our transport blew an axel about five klicks from target,” Speight began. “Seeing as the vehicle would have provided little protection from the incoming weather I opted to hike the remainder of the distance. Once we located the wreckage we proceeded cautiously to target. At about ninety meters out what looked like a sand bat landed on what was left of the shuttle.—”
“It was a fucking Drac!”
“—Daniels here decided to empty his magazine into the damn thing and hit a reserve fuel tank or something. Blew the whole fucking thing into a hundred pieces.”
Pierce grunted and spat. “What’s you have ta say Emerson?” he said turning to the private.
“That about sums it up Gunny,” Emerson said. “Can’t say I saw a Drac or a bat, but I’ve got no reason to doubt Corporal Speight. And Daniels has been a bit twitchy since we landed.”
“Sheeit,” Pierce groaned looking over at Jeff.
He just shook his head at the sergeant not knowing what to say. Sighing he turned his attention to Speight asking, “What did you find in the wreckage?”
“Three med kits and a week’s worth of field rations.”
Squeezing his eyes shut, Jeff tilted his head back offering up a silent oath. “All right, get in the truck,” he said throwing a thumb over his shoulder.
“What about Daniels?” Speight asked heatedly.
“What about him?”
“He’s a grade A fuck up Sir. And he’s going to get us killed.”
“C’mon Corporal,” Daniels defended, “If I’m right, which I am, I saved our lives.”
“We’ll sort it out once we’re back at the base,” Jeff said, though he wasn’t sure if either of them heard him.
“Christ Daniels! How fucking retarded are you?”
The two began trading jabs in a shouting match which almost devolved into an all-out brawl before Jeff intervened. Quickly jumping between them he shouted, “Enough!” pushing the two apart. “I said we’ll sort it out once we’re back at the base.”
Speight squared herself stiffly before him grunting a low, “Yes Sir.” Casting a heated glance at Daniels she shuffled off towards the truck.
“Thank you Sir,” Daniels began to say.
Jeff didn’t give him a chance to continue instead gruffly rebuking him. “I said, get in the fucking truck!”
Jeff shook his head at Pierce as Daniels sheepishly followed Emerson to the utility truck. The bickering picked up again, but it sounded like it wouldn’t come to blows. The gunnery sergeant slimed at him coughing a raspy laugh. “What was that you was sayin yestaday ’bout not bein in control?”
Jeff could only laugh at the man. “Just get in the damn truck Pierce.”
CHAPTER 22:
ON THE PRECIPICE OF DESPAIR
Gazing blankly upon the airfield from the bases control tower, Jeff felt almost in a hypnotic tranc
e. Whatever good will that was gained by the finding of Corporal Speight and her party was immediately squelched by the news of Captain Butler’s demise. It was a tremendous blow to moral that only added to the already dour mood of the survivors. The marines had already lost too many friends in the frenzied battle that followed the crash landing. Having to inter the man who, to them, represented the strength and soul of the Corps was a bitter pill to swallow. With heavy hearts, they carried him across the landing field Jeff now looked upon. Carried him with chins held high and tears in their eyes up onto the fateful ridge where he’d taken his mortal wound. “To hell with that no man left behind bullshit,” someone recalled Butler saying. “My family is the Corps. Ain’t nobody left on Earth that cares about me, so you put my body in the ground that my blood stained.”
Hoping to boost their spirits, Pierce relaxed the work details allowing time for mourning and recreation. It worked for a time. Outside of a few hours a week rotated amongst the troops for security sweeps and keeping in routine the platoon might as well have been on shore leave. In truth there wasn’t much to do other than wait for rescue anyway.
Unfortunately for Jeff, he couldn’t share in the more lighthearted aspects of the exile. Instead he was hard at work with Pierce and Russell trying to figure out how best to stretch their meager supplies. The supply of potable water was rapidly depleting and the ground water, whatever could be found of it, was useless for human consumption. The atmosphere itself was stingy with releasing whatever moisture it contained, and the reclamation facility for any waste water near catastrophic failure. It was a perfect storm of hostile conditions and nerves were beginning to fray included his own. As the days turned into weeks, Jeff found himself more and more often becoming completely detached from whatever it was he was doing.
“Knight?” the question came as if being summoned by his detached thoughts.
“Hmm?” Jeff made the confused sound blinking away his daydream. “What’s that?”
“You okay boss?” Alan asked unsteadily.
“Yeah, yeah, just…just drifted off there a bit,” Jeff said scrubbing a hand through his hair.
Alan sighed and limped across the room. Finding a seat at one of the terminals he began massaging his knee. “Don’t go losing it man,” he said with a nervous laugh. “I don’t want to think about what’ll happen if you do.” Alan’s voice had picked up a nervous hitch that only grew worse as the long days dragged on.
“I’m fine Teak,” Jeff lied looking at the man, “just got distracted.” Alan’s eyes tried to hide the same look Jeff noticed on the rest of the crew. Maybe a little more pronounced. Lighting a cigarette, he took a seat at the adjacent console. “Now what were you saying?”
“That we’re overdue and our food supply is running dangerously low.”
“Then we’ll make it stretch.” Jeff tried to sound nonchalant. “I’m sure a boat’s on the way.”
“And what if there isn’t?” Alan’s voice became heated. “We’ve been overdue for three weeks! You think we can go another three weeks on Goddamn, fucking, field rations?” Alan picked up a nearby clipboard flinging it across the room to punctuate the question.
“We’ll find a way.” Jeff tried reassuring him.
Alan continued to rant over him, “What if the Drac come back? What if there is no fleet anymore? Did you think about that? What if TAT sent you here to die and I’m the unlucky son of a bitch who got to tag along?”
“Hey watch it Mister,” Jeff shouted kicking his chair away as he stood to glare down on him. “Thomas may be a cold hearted bitch, but even she wouldn’t pull shit like that.”
“Maybe we’re bait,” Alan said sullenly slouching into the chair.
Jeff closed his eyes taking a calming breath. “Alan,” he said at last placing a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, look at me.” The bags under Alan’s eyes were pronounced giving him the air of a frightened animal. “Styles will come. Whatever’s holding him back, I have faith in the man.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because the old man made a promise to my father,” he said around his cigarette before the sound of the intercom chiming grabbed his attention. Leaning over he blew out another cloud and tapped the answer key. “Tower.”
“Commander Grant,” Daniels voice crackled from the speaker sounding shaken. “Wisniewski went ape shit. Attacked me and the doc.”
“What’s the situation?”
“Uh, I don’t know. I don’t know there’s a lot of blood.”
“Take a deep breath Private,” Jeff’s said trying to calm Daniels. “Is anyone there with you?”
“Yeah Emerson. He’s checking her out,” the Private said. Emerson said something in the background Jeff couldn’t make out to which Daniels replied, “Yeah I’m fine. Bastard sucker punched me.” Indistinct static issued from the speaker for a moment before the signal went dead.
“Daniels,” Jeff called into the mic. “Daniels, what’s the situation?” Looking up at Alan he said, “Stay here. Try and raise Pierce and have him meet me at sickbay.” Without waiting on a reply Jeff turned quickly and dashed from the room.
***
“Well Wisniewski, how are we doing today?” Russell said approaching the catatonic private. Taking out a penlight she flashed his eyes a few times trying to elicit a response. To her disappointment they retained the lazy, almost glassy, gaze he’d exhibited for the past three weeks. The pupils reacted to be sure, but as far as finding the human being hiding behind them, her search continued to be futile. “That good huh?” she quipped going about a routine examination checking reflexes and vital signs. Hopefully when a ship finally swung by to pick them up one of the psychiatrists onboard would be able to solve his mysteries. In the meantime, she was determined to keep him alive physically as well as she could.
Finished with the private’s daily exam she moved to her nearby desk toggling on the computer terminal. Pulling out a petri dish containing flesh samples from the dead Drac, she fed it into the adjacent picoscope looking to continue her research. Though not an exobiologist, not yet at any rate, she couldn’t pass up the opportunity to study the only intelligent alien life mankind had ever come into contact with. This once in a lifetime opportunity validated her decision to enlist rather than take on more conventional means of financing her education. Once this Drac was out of her hands there’d be no way for her to get close to samples again. Undoubtedly the intelligence department would seize the carcass leaving her to finish off her deployment before getting back into a lab to study more of the same fauna found on other worlds. Pressing her eyes to the optics she began focusing the blurry image. The ruddy brown color of the specimen filled her vision and she marveled at the fine setae that covered its surface.
“Whatcha lookin at Doc?” Startled she pushed away from the device. Jumping to her feet she found Private Daniels playfully leaning against the desktop.
“Goddamnit Daniels,” she scolded him, embarrassed that he’d snuck up on her. “What do you want?”
Easing himself to an erect stance he almost nonchalantly said, “My eye’s been bugging me. I think Speight may have done worse than just give me a shiner.”
“There’s nothing wrong with your eye,” she scoffed. “The swelling is gone and I can barely see the bruise anymore.”
“Just the same, things still seem a bit blurry.” Adopting a hangdog expression he added, “Think you can check it out for me?”
Closing her eyes, she shook her head with a smile. “I swear Daniels, if you weren’t such a pervert your petulance would be cute.” Deciding to humor the private, she threw a thumb over her shoulder saying, “Hop on the exam table.”
Grabbing an ophthalmoscope, she followed Daniels and began examining his eye. “Did you mean that?” he asked as she gingerly pressed around his eye socket.
“Mean what?”
“That I’m cute.”
“There are times that I, sort of, find you attractive, yes,” she said peering through the scop
es window. Pressing firmly on his cheekbone she asked, “Does that hurt?”
“No,” he said quickly before adding, “Sometimes I just don’t know how to express myself.”
“You could afford to lose the macho grandstanding,” she offered with a snicker. “And you might want to try sweeping a woman off her feet instead of pinching her ass like you’re in some twenty-first century movie.” Pocketing the device, she turned saying, “Like I said, there’s nothing wrong with your eye,” as she walked to the supply cabinet. “Let me see if there’s any eye drops to help with the irritation.”
While rummaging through the collection of bottles and vials she was unexpectedly wrapped about the waist by Daniels arms. “Something more like this then?” he purred into her ear.
“I didn’t mean literally,” Russell said with a laugh, “Now get off me.”
“But you just said you like it,” Daniels voice took on a hint of menace. “It was your suggestion.”
“Stop playing around Daniels,” she grated trying to twist from the unwelcome embrace.
“Being a tease then?” he asked in a sinister way. Before, she had always thought of his childish advances on her as more playful than anything, but the sound his voice carried now gave her shivers. Laughing deviously at her struggle he added, “You’re sending me a lot of mixed signals.”
Trying to work her elbows into his arms she grated, “If you don’t let me go I’ll send you a very clear signal.”
A devious chortle caressed his throat. “Oh, you know you like it. Stop fighting.”
“The only thing I’m fighting is the urge to kick your ass!” He laughed again at her protest before she felt the unmistakable sensation of his lips caressing her neck. It sent chills down her spine and pushed her to action. Taking a deep breath, she swung her head back hard into his nose. Daniels shrieked in pain recoiling from her attack. Free from the embrace Russell spun around delivering a blow to his damaged eye before racing for the door.
***
“You bitch!” cried Daniels cradling his damaged face. Grabbing a nearby IV pole he followed Russell. She was fumbling with the door controls in her panic trying to unlock them. “This is what happens when you toy with a guy’s emotions,” he seethed. Whipping the rod about, he delivered a sharp blow to the side of her head. It made a sickly thump and the corpsman slumped to the floor dragging her had across door switch allowing the hatch to hiss open.
In the Blink of an Eye Page 23