DarkStar Running (Living on the Run Book 2)

by Ben Patterson

  Stealthily, she peered though a window.

  Mr. Oberly was a pretty wise man. That he and the Mrs. had an open Bible laid out for all to see came as quite a shock. The old man seemed to sense her presence at the window because he made a subtle motion with his hand for her to leave them to their fate.

  The hope of eternal peace outweighed the old couple’s physical safety; she saw that written in the old man’s face. With what was sure to follow, she knew better than to stick around and watch.

  Disquieted by a heart mixed with hope and tears, Lilia went back to the Barrett’s house, all the while praying for the old couple. In this war, everyone had his orders. Apparently Mr. and Mrs. Oberly were to be bold and take a stand. Maybe they’d gain new ground for the Immortal Architect’s glory. Maybe—maybe not—but there was always hope.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  The mess the Enforcers made was daunting, but Jacob stooped anyway to pick up the broken bits of doorjamb scattered across the floor.

  Hurried footsteps padded behind him, and he turned with a start. A strange woman rushed into their house and drew a blind over the window that looked toward the Oberlys. She glanced at Jacob, then at his folks, and asked if they were packed and ready.

  What! What was she talking about?

  As the woman went to the open door to look toward the neighbor’s house, Jake saw she was far into her pregnancy. In spite of it, her face mesmerized him as her long raven curls, caught by the breeze, caressed her cheek.

  Then he saw the gun.

  What a study in contrasts! Pistol held high, pregnant, drop dead gorgeous, the lady was nothing less than extraordinary any way you looked at it.

  Who was she? Confederate citizens couldn’t possess weapons and, by her expression, Jake knew he needn’t point out she was breaking the law. When she looked at him again, the seriousness in her eyes snapped him back to reality. Their situation was grave, and Jake had better get a grip. He diverted his eyes.

  “Are you Jacob?” Her soft, assured tone was calming despite the stressful situation.

  “Yes, ma’am. My friends call me Jake.”

  “I’m Captain Star, Jake. Remember this, will you? When you’re right where the Immortal Architect wants you, you’re bulletproof.”

  “Captain Star?”

  “Yeah, Jake?”

  “Then why the gun?”

  At the sound of breaking glass, she turned toward the neighbor’s house. “Because the bad guys—they aren’t.”

  “They aren’t what, where the Immortal Architect wants them, or bulletproof?”

  “One in the same, isn’t it?” she said before turning to Jake’s dad to nod.

  His dad pulled suitcases from behind the couch and, with one in each hand, brushed past them and headed out.

  His mom nudged Jake toward the door, but when he remembered her mealtime efforts, he held back to glance at the table: roast beef, mashed potatoes, gravy, green beans, and biscuits. Her best, but a knot in his gut had replaced his appetite.

  Captain Star craned her neck to see what held his attention. “They invite themselves to dinner, but Enforcers never appreciate what you offer or your hard work. Lousy guests, huh?”

  Jake half nodded as his mom pressed him forward and through the doorway.

  A moment later, the petite gun bearer followed them out.

  Ahead of them, his daddy hurried around the corner and down the dark alley. The sun had set, but by the light of the Dalvus nebula, Jake could still make out enough to get by. It would be nearly as bright as day when Spirita rose; he figured that was why they hurried. His head swam with questions and confusion, but this wasn’t the time or place to demand answers.

  The next moment, Jake thought he heard a blaster pop off a couple of rounds.

  His mother stopped short to look across the backyard fences. “Oh, my!” she said under her breath. Concern for their neighbors’ safety was written all over her face.

  Dad didn’t stop. Jake didn’t want to stop either but, like his mom, he had to look. Was it the Oberlys’ house or the one beyond?

  Captain Star caught and clutched the arms of Jake and his mother to press them forward. “Don’t stop! Keep going!”

  Jake could hear his dad huff and puff as he hurried down the alley. The canvas suitcases, filled to the max, bulged at the seams.

  His dad glanced back from time to time to see if the others kept up.

  Jacob hurried to his side to take a suitcase, which nearly yanked his arm off as soon as he caught the full weight of it. What’s this thing filled with, he thought, Mom’s cast iron skillets? Well, now I know why Dad’s struggling.

  As Captain Star caught up to Jake, movement behind a fence caught his eye. A whimpering mutt watched them but otherwise sat quietly. Next, they passed a Doberman, but it didn’t so much as snarl.

  “Would you look at that?” Jake said to the Captain as his mom padded up behind them.

  “Evidence, Mr. Barrett. It’s evidence,” Captain Star said. Clearly distracted, she kept glancing over her shoulder.

  “Evidence of what?”

  “Of whom, Jacob. Evidence of whom. Keep your eyes open. There will be more.”

  Jake glanced back. “But dogs normally bark at the slightest sound. What’s with this?”

  His mom patted his shoulder to set his mind at rest. “You’ll understand in time, son. Just praise the Immortal Architect they’re silent tonight.”

  Jacob tried not to stare as he looked at Captain Star’s weapon; although it was small, it seemed mean enough. “You ever kill anyone?”

  “Jacob!”

  His mom was right. The moment the words left his mouth he felt bad about it.

  “Sorry, ma’am.”

  Alert to any possible danger, Captain Star glanced back over her shoulder once more before tucking her pistol away. But she stayed by his side and whispered, “I’ve seen my share of firefights, Jake. Been in one or two. It’s a dangerous place, this universe of ours.”

  “Yes, this ‘verse is a dangerous place, but that didn’t answer my question.”

  “And you see this alley as the place to press the issue?”

  Despite her answer, he liked her. He liked the sound of her voice, and he liked the way she talked to him. Conversing with her as an equal made him feel like an adult.

  “I think my teacher suspected I was a follower. If someone called the cops on us, it would have been her.”

  “That seems like a stretch, Jake. So what happened? Did she see you treat someone with respect and take note?”

  “Then why are we on the run?”

  She shrugged. “Things happen.”

  After crossing a few side streets, they arrived at Hedrick High. In the schoolyard, to Jake’s surprise, sat two old space-freighters.

  On its rear were traces of its name, “Reliant,” or some such thing. Years of neglect had worn some of the letters faint. On the other, “Dangerous Haul” read more clearly, but only barely.

  Spirita had risen high enough to reflect the sun’s light. The magnificent gas giant exposed their escape. Out of time and out of options, Jake’s parents ran for the ship, but Jake noticed Captain Star—Mrs. Past-due—struggled to keep pace, so he held back.

  He recognized others from his church nearer the ships. Shepherd hurried toward them from another direction, followed by other families.

  As the gathering people lined up at the ramp of each ship, Captain Star waited off to one side, maybe to catch her breath perhaps . . . or perhaps . . . she wouldn’t be going into labor, would she?

  Her behavior seemed very strange, almost trance-like. She slowly drew the gun from her fanny pack.

  What is she doing? he asked himself.

  Jake’s Shepherd called out and pointed to an Enforcer coming their way.

  He sees us, Jake thought.

  The officer shouted and started running toward the ship.

  Captain Star turned, took careful aim, and fired. The officer flew backward and crash
ed to the ground in a heap.

  Jacob’s stomach clenched as if he, too, had been hit. He had never seen a man die before, hoped he never would, but he knew what Zithion-charged bullets could do to flesh. He had seen it demonstrated on a side of beef once. Sickened, he jerked away.

  Startled, the folks ahead of Jake clamored up the ramp and into the ship. A man, and the families he led, came running down the street from a different direction. He directed his followers toward the other ship, and as they scrambled up the ramp, he stopped, put his hands on his hips and frowned at the Barrett’s lady escort as if she’d done something wrong. Was it about the guy she shot, or something else?

  Jake entered the ship, found a seat, and peered out at Captain Star as she fell into the man’s arms.

  He kissed her forehead, and then they hurried up the ramp.

  Her smile, though faint, seemed out of place in contrast to the officer there on the ground, unmoving.

  Jacob felt disgusted by Captain Star’s callused action. Catching her arm as they passed by, he stopped her, hardly able to get the words out. “Ma’am, why’d you kill that man?”

  Why did he ask when he knew the answer? Given half a chance, he would have done the same, but didn’t believe he would have enjoyed it as much as she seemed to. Or worse, maybe he would have enjoyed it more.

  Letting the man go on without her, she eased onto the cushioned bench and placed a gentle hand on Jake’s shoulder. Her dark brown eyes bore deep concern, her voice, compassion.

  “In a war, people die, Mr. Barrett. None of us enjoy taking life, but sometimes, to save others or yourself, you must. However, when we can . . .” She tapped the glass and pointed to the man on the ground. “Watch.”

  Right then the officer’s body jerked back to life. Struggling to his feet, and teetering like a drunk, he staggered toward the ship just as it sealed up.

  She smiled and spoke without taking her eyes from the Enforcer. “. . . electro-charged rubber bullets. He’s okay, but he’ll have a nasty, prickly feeling in every fiber of his body for the next few hours. Knowing that brings a smile to my face.” She cocked her head and winked at the boy next to her. “Call me mean, Jake, but that’s less than he deserves, don’t you think?”

  Simple truth was, given that the officer was a heartless, murdering Enforcer, Jake had to agree. He fantasized about taking revenge himself for all the hardship aimed at him over the years.

  Even as the ship lifted off, he felt a tug from Atheron. A desire to go back and set the score straight wouldn’t let go.

  “Where are we heading?”

  The smile in her eyes glinted with hope. “Away from here,” she said, adding no more.

  Jake believed the Oberlys met the same end assigned every follower discovered by the Confederates. “Captain Star, I don’t see hiding or running away as fighting back. The Enforcers should’ve been stopped before they . . .” Jake looked away.

  A gentle finger under his chin, Captain Star turned his head so he’d meet her eye to eye. “Sam and Clara Oberly?”

  Holding back a flood of emotion, he shrugged halfheartedly. “If I had a gun . . .”

  “There are ways to overcome the enemy without shedding blood.”

  “Yeah, well,” he mumbled, “drawing blood is all they understand.”

  “Perhaps. But we followers aren’t them.”

  He turned his attention to the city lights beyond the window. “I can’t help it. I want to settle the score.”

  She ran gentle fingers through his hair. “I understand what you’re saying, Jacob. But there are other ways—constructive ways—to settle the score.”

  What made her an expert on how to settle things? Even though she had an answer to everything, he couldn’t get a handle on her. But she had just saved his family’s lives. That in itself needed some show of appreciation.

  “Ma’am?”

  “Yeah, hon?”

  “Thank you for rescuing us.”

  When she smiled and winked at him, in spite of himself, his spirits rose, almost matching the upward thrust of their craft. They other craft, Dangerous Haul, passed them and headed skyward.

  Her right brow arched slightly, as if to disclose a secret. “You will rescue me one day, mighty man of the Immortal Architect.”

  By all accounts, it was a big ‘verse, so the odds against his ever meeting her again were beyond numbers, weren’t they? To see himself one day rescuing her was just absurd. Jake studied her dark eyes. Even while pregnant, she seemed able to face any obstacle and deal with it handily, but how could she know what the future held when she couldn’t see what was right in front of her? He was no man of the Immortal Architect. But then, that was his secret, wasn’t it?

  Nearly halfway across town, he spotted his house growing smaller by the millisecond and pointed it out to change the subject. “I hope Mom turned off the oven.”

  She chuckled. “And that matters?” Then, as the ship crested the next hill, Jake saw her expression change.

  Nestled in the next valley was the hulking remains of the Emperor’s Princess. Overgrown with weed and vine, the onetime luxury liner was no more than the ship’s midsection lying on its side.

  Beyond it were the Seychelles village lights. Captain Star rested her fingers on the window as though she were touching the village or someone she loved there, and as she stared, her lower lip began to quiver and tears filled her eyes. Abruptly, without a word, she rose and hurried past the other passengers to another part of the ship.

  He wanted to stop her and ask about her tie to Seychelles, but he didn’t know what to say.

  He stared back out at the ship’s ruins. Maybe that was the connection. Maybe Captain Star had reasons for revenge all her own. Perhaps one day he would learn who his rescuer really was and discover her relationship to the Emperor’s Princess or Seychelles. Then again, maybe not. It was a big universe after all, and Atheron certainly didn’t account for much of it.

  He watched the ground fade as they rocketed up and away, and got a sense that the future held far more than he might imagine.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Pasto John Bauer peeked into the bridge.

  Lilia pulled back from Stan’s embrace, turning away to wipe moisture from her cheeks.

  Stan beckoned. “Come in, John.”

  John hesitated before stepping through the threshold. “Look, I can come back later.”

  “No, come in. You need something?”

  “Just to report that everyone’s settled in. The next few weeks will be rough, but I think our passengers will handle camping in the cargo bay well enough.” John stepped fully into the room. “Are you okay, Lilia?”

  She turned, forced a smile, and with a quick jerk of the head, beckoned to him. “Just a little too close to home, John. This place has brought back old memories, and I just let hormones get the better of me. I suppose I’m just being silly.”

  “To rescue the Barretts, you not only fought against the hormones of your pregnancy but against a strong natural urge to protect the baby as well. At any moment you could make Stan a two-time daddy, and yet you succeeded in the rescue.” John came closer to pat her shoulder. “It was risky going out as you did, Lilia. You were very brave.”

  “She was foolish,” Stan scolded, but Lilia ignored the comment.

  “Would you join us at Captain’s mess, John?” she said, changing the subject.

  “DarkStar’s cooking? Sure, Lilia, I’m always up for—”

  “Tonight, supper is on me, John. DarkStar will be serving our passengers.”

  “Sounds even better. I love your cooking, Lilia.” Trying to reserve his true reasons for being there, John took the second’s seat, but turned to face his hosts.

  “Three hundred souls rescued this day.”

  Stan took the pilot’s seat and turned toward the Shepherd. “I’m sorry, John. I wish we could have done more.”

  John shrugged and shook his head once. “From the start, Stan, I knew we couldn’t save
everyone. But, with Dangerous Haul’s help, we did better than I thought. Neither of you, nor Peter Coalfire, should think otherwise.”

  “Enforcers were everywhere. Still, I hate to think we left anyone behind.”

  “Those that couldn’t make it to the ship were instructed to go to the underground churches in Hastings and Baldwin. From there they’ll be funneled to the outlying villages. The Immortal Architect is with them. Believe that.”

  Lilia took a seat next to John to hold his hand. “I barely made it away with the Barretts. I had to leave—”

  “Clara and Sam Oberly. Yeah, I know. You didn’t really have a choice.” John wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders. “I didn’t want to think about it, but I knew Sam would want to stay. The old geezer ached to save souls, he and Clara both. Their second wish was to go quickly when their time came. They were ready. Chuck Henderson was the same way. I doubt his Bible being found was an accident.”

  Lilia studied John’s face.

  John shot a quick, questioning look at Stan before turning back to her. “Look, there’s something else I need to discuss with you two.”

  Attentive, Stan leaned forward. “Come on, buddy, we’re listening.”

  John mindlessly stared at nothing to collect his thoughts. “I’ve known you two for, what has been, five years now?”

  “Yeah?” Stan said. “Is there a problem?”

  John pulled a picture from his pocket, considered it, and then handed it to Lilia.

  “Hmm, a photo of us, Stan. A wedding picture.” She handed it to her husband.

  Staring at the photo, Stan got to his feet. “What’re you saying, John? You weren’t legally able to marry us? All this time, Lilia and I—”

  “No, no, no, nothing like that.” John stood and tapped the picture. “Look at it, will you? Neither of you have aged a day in five years.”

  With a blank expression, Stan raised his eyes from the picture to John. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  John felt his brow tighten. Maybe Stan was right. Maybe John was just being silly. Five years doesn’t age a soul much, but Stan was now thirty and Lilia twenty-six. No. No, each should look his or her age but neither did; neither came close.