The commander wasn’t disciplining Adam Stanton. She tried reeling him back in. It was likely he was in some stage of shock. The trauma of crashing his starfighter, losing half of his squad, and then footing it across the planet surface was more than enough to temporarily impair anyone. She knew her own mind felt off kilter, and more than a little bit rattled.
“Aye, Commander. Good. All good,” he said.
She wasn’t fully convinced, but his acknowledgment was better than nothing. “Okay. So, we are here. Not far from the bay where Weber is picking up the rover. We have a lot of space to cover. Ruiz, Stanton, I want you two to head this way, east, and make your way all the way around. There is the repair shop, where the colonists keep the machines for harvesting the diamonds, and then the storage facility where the jewels are kept. Rivers and I are going that way. West. We’ll search the equipment and supplies area, and the west half of the storage facility. We’ll meet up again at the housing sections. There are bunkers, a kitchen with the mess hall, and a recreational room. Those we’ll search together, the four of us. The communications room is along the way, as well. Hopefully, we’ll be able to contact Windsor on the Eclipse.” She was near desperate for updated information from her ship. They had been out of contact for too long. She had no idea what might be going through her second’s mind. Meyers could barely get her arms around her own wild thoughts.
Danielle Rivers nodded. “Aye, Commander.”
Ruiz looked over the blueprints for a moment longer, and then stood up. “Aye,” she said.
“Our comlinks should work. We’re in close enough quarters. We’ll do a check once we start out. Here’s the thing. If you encounter any of the colonists, remember they’ll more than likely be terrified seeing you. Especially if they have no idea we’re here. Keep that in mind. They might mistake us for pirates. It is important we handle the situation with kid gloves.”
_____
Marshall Weber kept both hands on the steering wheel. It was a nerve-wracking grip. His finger kept opening and closing on the wheel, not too lose, not too tight. The wipers swished back and forth across the front windshield. The rover handled the terrain well. Each large tire operated from an independent axle and suspension. The vehicle rose and fell over mounds of ice and diamonds with surprising simplicity. He made good time.
Before he knew it, the rover headlights shined on something just ahead.
The shuttle.
Weber eased the rover to a stop. The engine idled. The wipers ran smooth back and forth, crossing in arcs over the glass. From where he sat, nose to nose with the shuttle, he couldn’t see into the shuttle. The rover headlights bounced back at him. It was almost blinding, despite the darkness between them.
He had the extra spacesuit for Murray Bell.
Weber didn’t waste time. He climbed out of the rover, left the motor running, and let his boots grip the ground. With Bell’s suit in hand, Weber made his way around the rover, waving toward the shuttle just in case Bell was standing right there and was watching him.
At the shuttle door, Weber paused.
He adjusted the lights on his helmet. There was something in the blue snow. A trail. A red trail. Weber leaned in closer.
It was blood. “Whoa,” he said, taking a tentative step backward.
He snatched his blaster out of the holster and turned around. He couldn’t see anything behind him. The rover lights lit the night like a small sun. It was a very concentrated area. Everything beyond the reach of the electric rays of light was swallowed in the black.
The blood trail led to the shuttle doors.
Weber tried his comlink communicator. “Bell? Hey, Bell? This is Weber. Do you copy? Over.”
Static. Hiss. Silence.
Weber transmitted a second time, hoping to hail his friend. “Bell, are you inside the shuttle? Can you hear me? Over.”
There was more static. A second hiss. And, again, silence.
Weber knew he was breathing fast. His breath fogged the faceshield. He could feel his heartbeat inside his ears. With all of that, it was the knot twisting about inside his gut that troubled him most. He didn’t feel well at all. Blood. Not a good sign. In fact, it was a bad sign. The worst.
“Weber? Weber, is that you?”
Weber thought his mind was messing with him when the voice filled the inside of his helmet. It came across crisp. Clear. It sounded like music.
“Bell! Bell, are you okay? There’s blood out here.”
Okay. Not music. Not exactly. Bell didn’t sound good. He sounded tired. Weak, maybe.
“Blood? Are you here? Are you at the shuttle?” The man sounded frail. Scared. Weber didn’t like the tone of voice. Not one bit.
“Right outside, buddy. I’m right outside. Can I come in? Is it safe to do so?” Weber asked. He had his back to the shuttle door. He remembered Captain Stanton’s retelling about his and Ruiz’s encounter with some kind of reptile-thing. They’d said there was more than one. They’d seen several.
He had thought them crazy at the time and had done all he could not to eye-roll while Stanton talked. And he’d succeeded. But now, however, he was inclined to believe them. Maybe it wasn’t just some tall tale? By the amount of blood out here, he wondered if the creatures on the planet were more than just curious.
“Bell? You still there?”
“Weber? Weber, man. You can come in. Come in.”
Weber faced the hatch and entered the pass code. The door opened. He let the barrel of his blaster sweep around inside the shuttle first.
All clear.
He stepped in, closed the door, and re-pressurized the cabin. He kept his helmet on. The display on his faceshield showed very low oxygen. He was just in time. Bell would have suffocated in less than half hour.
“Bell?” Weber called out. Although he held the spacesuit and helmet in one hand, he didn’t lower his blaster. The commander expected him to proceed vigilantly, had impressed upon him the importance of not letting his guard down.
The blood outside was a nice reminder.
“Bell?”
“Here, Web. I’m over here.”
Weber saw a boot. It was in the area between the cockpit and the cabin. He hurried over.
Bell was on the floor. His eyes were open, but he did not look alert.
There was blood everywhere.
Around Bell’s left thigh, just above the knee, a belt stopped circulation to the lower part of the leg.
Except, there was no lower left leg.
It looked as if something had … bitten off the limb.
Chapter Thirty
Adam Stanton and Angela Ruiz walked side by side. The commander sent them off to explore and clear the east side of the colony. They would search the repair shop and half of the storage facility.
Stanton was good with that. He and Ruiz worked well together. They clicked. There was something about sharing a stressful situation that created a special bond. Ruiz was a top pilot and a solid person. His squad had only consisted of people like him, like Ruiz.
He didn’t want to think about Lieutenants Reilly and Cornwell.
Not now.
He had to remain focused. There was a job that needed doing. If he let memories flood his mind, he’d lose it. He didn’t want to break down in front of Ruiz. It wasn’t a macho-masculine thing. If he let his composure slip, it might impact Ruiz’s stability. He was the captain. He suspected Ruiz looked up to him. She might not. But it seemed likely. For that reason alone, he stayed stone-faced and appeared unmoved by the loss of half of his squad.
For now.
There would come a time. Then, and only then, would he share his true feelings with Ruiz. In fact, he looked forward to it. They’d share a bottle of something good and swap stories about the team, and maybe have a good cry together.
Later, but not now.
“I mean, what are we looking for?” Ruiz asked.
They walked side by side, bent knees, blasters raised.
“People,” he said
. “Survivors?”
“That’s what it’s come to, hasn’t it? This isn’t so much an investigative mission anymore, or even a rescue mission at this point, is it? It’s a recovery, Adam, isn’t it? This is a receovery.” She didn’t mask emotions from her tone of voice. Stanton was glad he’d kept his composure. They couldn’t both fall apart. Not at the same time.
“It could be.”
“Don’t pull my chain. Don’t do that to me, Captain.”
“Look, I don’t know any more than you do. You know that. We were right there when the commander dished out tasks. You and I, we’re on the same page. We know the same things.”
“You’d tell me, though, Adam? If you knew something more, anything else at all, you’d tell me?”
“You have my word,” he said. “I’m not keeping anything from you.”
“But it’s a recovery mission now, isn’t it?”
“Man, I just don’t know. It could be,” he said. “But I hope not.”
He wanted to find the colonists alive. All of them okay and alive. He couldn’t trick himself into becoming that optimistic. In all likelihood, Ruiz was right.
Chances were better that they would find the colonists dead over finding anyone still alive.
Too much time had passed. The alarm had been activated months ago.
And there were those things outside …
_____
“What the hell happened, Bell? Murray? Murray, what happened?”
Marshall Weber leaned his blaster against the wall, set Bell’s spacesuit and helmet aside, and knelt alongside his friend. “Hey, man. Bell?”
The lieutenant opened his eyes. Whites. And then he blinked. When he opened them a second time, the dilated pupils. “Weber, I’m not doing so good. I’m, hey, Web, I’m not doing so good.”
“You’re fine. You’re gonna be okay, buddy. You are. Tell me what happened. I need to know what happened.” Bell had clearly sustained a traumatic injury.
“There was this thing,” Bell said.
Weber thought about the story Stanton and Ruiz told. “What thing?”
“It was outside the shuttle. I thought it might be the commander. I went out to look. Make sure everything was alright, you know. And the thing, it just attacked. It came out of nowhere. I wasn’t ready for it. The thing is, I went out ready.” His skin was pale, pasty, and clammy. He smiled, though. “Okay. Maybe I thought I saw something, and maybe I went to check it out. I know I shouldn’t have, but I thought for sure it was one of you guys, you know? The commander coming back for something …”
Weber peeled off his gloves and pressed a gloved hand against Bell’s forehead. The man had a fever. He wasn’t burning up, but it was higher than normal. “Okay, okay, man. I got it. I understand. I just want you to rest, okay? Stay awake. Stay with me, Bell. But rest. No more talking.”
“It was an ugly thing.” Bell raised an arm, his hand bent at the wrist, his fingers in a fist, with two fingers extended like fangs. “I’ve never seen anything like it, Web. Never.”
“It’s okay now. I’m just—I gotta grab the first aid stuff, okay? I got everything I need right outside. You just, look, just don’t move. Okay? Don’t do anything. I’ll be right back.”
Bell’s hooked hand shot forward. He latched onto Weber’s forearm. “Don’t leave me, Web. Man, don’t—I don’t wanna be alone, okay?”
Weber had to break free so he could put his gloves back on. “No, no. I’m not leaving. I just have to get the medical stuff, okay? It’s right outside.”
Bell’s hand, now on Weber’s leg, squeezed, tightening his grip on Weber’s arm. “You can’t go out there. You gotta stay here, you have to stay inside. That thing, it’s out there. It’s still out there.”
Weber imagined a giant anaconda slinking about just outside the Eclipse shuttle. “You’re still losing blood, Bell. If I don’t help you …”
He stopped himself from stating the obvious. Bell wasn’t a fool. They both knew he was in rough shape. The tourniquet was tight but needed readjusting. Bell had done the best he could under the circumstances. The man’s quick thinking had kept him alive this long, of that Weber had no doubt.
His friend shook. He was in shock. Weber needed blankets. Bell was in serious trouble. There wasn’t time for arguing. He freed himself from Bell, peeling away fingers.
“You can’t go out there, Web.”
Weber picked up his blaster. “I’m going to be right back, Bell. Stay awake for me, okay? Can you do that?”
“I’m tired, man.”
“Gotta keep your eyes open for me,” Weber said. “‘Kay, Bell? Understand me?”
He couldn’t waste more time. Either Bell understood, or he didn’t. Weber stepped out of the shuttle. His blaster raised, and his finger on the trigger. Whatever had attacked Bell was not going to get the jump on him.
He was certain Bell hadn’t expected an attack and paid the price. Maybe like the Stanton and Ruiz suggested, Bell assumed the thing, the Neptunite, was merely curious. He knew his orders from the commander were not to kill alien lifeforms, but everything was different now. Something had attacked and nearly killed Bell. Far as he was concerned the alien lifeform was hostile, a threat, and dangerous. He believed the commander would order him to remove kid-gloves.
Weber, ready and conscientious of his surroundings, made certain nothing hid in the snow, and that nothing was out there waiting for him, before he dashed for the parked rover.
And just as he reached the medical supply compartment, he saw it. Something moved off to his right. He caught sight of it peripherally. When his head swiveled around, but there was nothing there to see.
The rover headlights, and the LED’s on his helmet, revealed snow and snow drifts. Little else. Nothing else, actually.
Something gurgled. There was no other way to describe the sound, other than a gurgle; a deep, guttural gurgle. Gravelly and harsh.
Weber spun all the way around this time.
It had certainly sounded as if it had come from behind him.
Now he wasn’t so sure. Nothing was there, at least not that he saw.
He fumbled for the compartment latch. His eyes scanned the area, looking up and down and all around. He would never get what he needed if he didn’t concentrate. Weber just didn’t want to risk looking away. Bell counted on him.
The compartment door opened, lifting. Weber reached in and snatched the medical bag. He unzipped it and then proceeded to stuff it full with as many of the other supplies as he could get his hands on.
He slung the bag over his shoulder and repositioned the blaster using both hands. Finger on the trigger. He was ready to fire bolts at anything that moved.
Shoot first, ask questions later.
An old saying. In a situation like this, it didn’t make it any less true. The commander might have preferred a more gentle approach to the native lifeforms, but Weber wasn’t having it. Sorry, Commander.
He moved around the rover. The shuttle door was less than ten yards away. Four strides would cover the distance, but at the moment it felt as if empty miles lay between them.
The gurgle. It ended this time with a high-pitched, roaring shriek.
The cry hadn’t come from behind him. Not this time.
He knew where the thing was, and so Weber ran forward several steps before he dove into the snow and he rotated around, landing mostly on his back.
He fired two quick bolts into the air.
The thing sat on top of the rover, and just as Weber fired, it had uncoiled and propelled itself through the air, and directly at him. Mouth wide open. Teeth bared.
Weber screamed.
_____
Weber fell flat on his back. His left hand held the barrel of the blaster; his right gripped the handle. When he squeezed the trigger, he thought it was too little, too late.
The creature, definitely snake-like, struck like lightning. A good portion of the thing still sat coiled on top of the rover.
Long, bowed f
angs grew from the corners of its wide-open mouth. The creature’s eyes rolled to the back of its head.
Weber never stopped firing.
Bolts ripped through the rough, layered scales.
Chunks of the thing blew off its body. Weber rolled, but it was not a fast enough getaway.
The bulk of the creature fell onto Weber’s left arm.
Weber was surprised by the weight. He used his right arm and pushed the monster off him, rolling it, and then he scrambled back, and away. He was not completely certain the thing was dead.
When he got to his feet, he saw the damage his blaster had done.
A bolt had fired clean through from throat up and out of the top of the alien’s skull.
The thing was dead. Had to be. Nothing could survive that kind of a head shot, Neptunite or otherwise.
Weber bent forward, breathing hard, and brushed robin-egg-blue snow off his spacesuit. It was almost a casual task, until he remembered something else Stanton had said.
There had been more than one of those things.
As if the monsters hunted in groups, in packs.
Weber snatched up the medical bag and ran into the shuttle.
_____
“Hey, Bell. Murray?” Weber knelt alongside Bell, and set the medical bag next to him. Bell’s eyes were closed. Weber wasn’t sure if his friend had passed out, or worse. He lowered his ear next to Bell’s mouth and listened. Bell was breathing. Barely. “Murray?”
Bell’s eyes opened. He blinked twice, which looked as if it took tremendous strength to do so, and even harder just keeping them open. “Don’t go out there, Web. Please. Stay in here.”
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