Bell didn’t realize Weber had gone for the supplies and already returned. “Okay. I won’t. I’ll stay here. We’re going to take care of that leg now, okay?”
There was but half a leg. If Weber couldn’t stop the bleeding and clean the wound, Bell would either bleed out or get an infection. Either of those would kill him.
“I thought about being a doctor at one point, did you know that?” Bell said. He patted Weber on the arm.
Weber unzipped the medical bag. Tourniquet only worked on limb injuries, which was what Bell suffered. Weber found a pair of scissors. “I need you to hold still for me, Bell. Understand?”
“I understand.”
Weber cut through Bell’s tactical pants, from the knee up to the groin, and then with both hands tore the pant leg wide open. “So what got you thinking you wanted to be a doctor, Bell?”
Keep the patient talking; keep his mind off the pain.
Below Bell’s knee dangled tasseled strands of flesh, chewed meat, and jagged bone.
Bell actually smiled. “I was a boy, back on Earth, and on my own,” he said. “They took my family from me. They were sick. They had the virus, you know? The plague got ‘em. The military rounded up anyone infected and shipped them off to internment camps. The quarantine zone, it was explained, you know? But we knew better, didn’t we, Web? We knew the truth.”
Weber remembered the internment camps when the virus reached a peak. When first opened, the people of Earth were hopeful. A cure must be close. Loved ones would recover and return home. Water shortages, food shortages, and rogue militia groups complicated matters, the way revolutions and famine always do.
“The people in those camps became prisoners, malnourished, and eventually slaughtered in groups,” Bell said. “Humane was the buzzword when news leaked about the murders. It was anything but. Do you remember that, Web? They started with mass graves and then just resorted to stacking bodies and burning them. Not all of them were dead when they were thrown in the pile. Did you know that, Web? Some of the poor people, they were still alive, but were discarded like broken pallets and firewood.”
“I remember those days.” Weber fished out an emergency military tourniquet belt from the bag. It was crafted from sturdy Velcro and a polymer. There was nothing in the supplies he grabbed for pain management. The next few moments were going to prove unbearably painful for Bell, and Weber was filled with sympathy.
It was a distal amputation. BKA, below-the-knee.
First, Weber strapped the military belt around the leg, above the knee, and secured it in place by tugging on the belt until tight and the teeth of the buckle caught.
Bell screamed. And cried. His mouth stayed open wide, as he fought for breath.
The best he could do now was work fast. Next, Weber removed the makeshift tourniquet Bell managed to secure around his own upper thigh. The stump spilled some blood as soon as the pressure between the tourniquets released.
“Almost done,” Weber soothed, but was lying. “Hang in there, Bell. Stay with me now.”
Bell shivered. His hands were balled into fists. He nodded as blood in his drool dripped from the corners of his mouth.
Inside the medical bag, Weber found the two items he looked for. He unsheathed a large bowie knife and turned it over in his hands, inspecting the width of the blade before setting it down. He wished it were bigger. It would have to do.
The second item he’d added to the bag himself was the handheld blowtorch.
“So,” Weber said, “you decided you wanted to become a doctor so you could find a cure for the virus?”
Again, and to Weber’s surprise, Bell laughed. “No. Nothing that noble. You see, there was this guy, Richard. He’d lost his family. They weren’t taken from him the way mine had been. But they suffered a similar fate. The flu killed ‘em. He nursed his wife and his daughter until they died. And he took me in, gave me his protection. I was thankful to have it, too.”
Weber lit the small torch. A constant blue flame spat from the nozzle. “What happened? Did he get sick, as well?”
“He hid us in an old house. It was in a rural area. The basement wasn’t stocked, but there were shelves of canned goods and bottled water in the basement. The two of us could live isolated from the rest of the world for months without worrying about our next meal,” Bell said.
Weber passed the flame over the blade of the bowie knife, heating the metal until it began to glow bright orange.
Bell was watching him. Eyes wide.
“And what happened?” Weber asked, trying desperately to keep his friend’s mind preoccupied with telling a story.
“Raiders. They came into the house one night.”
Weber stopped what he was doing and waited for more.
“Richard had me hide. He’d rigged a false wall and stuffed me inside before confronting the burglars. I begged him to hide with me. He wouldn’t. He shook his head, silencing me with his finger and locked me behind the wall.
“I stayed as quiet as I could, but couldn’t take my eye away from the small peephole he’d carved in the drywall.
“They beat him. It made no sense. They’d found the food and the other supplies in the basement. There was no reason for hurting the man. He wasn’t a threat. They could have just left.”
Weber hung on every word.
“They tied him to a kitchen chair. Restraining his arms and legs. Then they pulled off his boots and his socks. One of the guys tipped the chair back, while another used a knife on his feet.
“They cut through the webbing of each of his toes.”
Weber’s mouth went dry. His tongue felt thick and swollen.
“I’ve never heard a man scream so loudly in all my life. They didn’t even take their time. They just kept cutting and cutting like they were whittling away at a block of wood.” Bell closed his eyes and fell silent.
“Murray? Hey. Murray?”
“I’m here. I’m with you,” Bell said. “I’m awake. Just—I can’t get the images out of my head now. I can’t get the sound of his cries out of my head.”
“What’d you do, Bell? How’d you help your friend?”
Bell smiled. It was crooked. A half-smile. Weber wondered if the man suffered a stroke.
“I found duct tape, that grey electrical tape? When I was sure the intruders were gone, that they’d left, I came out of my hiding spot and went down to the basement. There was a roll down there.
“They left him for dead, Weber. Or didn’t care that he’d die. They took everything. All of the food, and water, and weapons. The cleaned us out,” Bell said.
“The tape, Bell. What did you do with the tape?”
“He was unconscious. His feet were bleeding pretty badly. I didn’t know if Band-Aids would work. So I just ran the roll around his toes, taped them together. Both feet. Then I remembered he might get an infection. So I had to cut the tape off. I didn’t have any water, but I did have a small bottle of hydrogen peroxide.”
“Better than water,” Weber said, encouraging Bell, as he took the torch to the blade, this time determined not to be distracted. “You pour a good amount on his feet?”
“Was like he took a bath in the stuff,” Bell said, laughing.
Once Weber saw the blade was again orange, and bright, he set aside the torch.
“Then I re-taped them up.”
“That was when you decided you wanted to be a doctor?”
“Nah. Not then. It was when he died. He still got an infection. Both feet. The toes turned black. Red lines under the skin raced up his legs. I was a kid and I knew that wasn’t a good sign. His feet were swollen and hurt. He never recovered. Never got any better.”
“You tried, Bell. That’s the thing. You tried.” Weber wished he could offer more encouragement. He knew it wasn’t necessary. Bell was there. He knew the truth. He’d tried, there wasn’t more he could have done. It just didn’t make accepting the circumstances of the situation any easier.
“Bell, I’m going to help yo
u now. Okay? Listen, Bell? Listen to me. This may hurt some. I want you to bite down on this.”
“It’s going to hurt a lot, isn’t it, Web?” Bell took the strap of leather and wedged it between his teeth. Then removed it, and laughed, shaking his head. “I’m not ready, Web. I’m scared, Web. I’m scared.”
It was going to hurt plenty. Bell had every right to be scared. He wasn’t going to undermine the man’s wits. Instead, Weber placed a hand on Bell’s stomach. There was no point in delaying the inevitable. The sooner they got through this, the quicker they could move forward. “On three. Ready?”
Bell put the leather strap in his mouth and bit down, nodding, squeezing his eyes closed.
“One,” Weber said. “Two.”
Weber skipped three. He placed the hot blade against the bloody stump of Bell’s leg. The wound sizzled. Blackened. Smoke rose from the area. The smell of burning flesh filled Weber’s nostrils, and he instinctively wrinkled his nose against the assault.
Bell groaned, squirmed, and twisted. He yanked the leather out of his mouth. “What happened to three?”
“I knew I forgot something.” Weber tried smiling. He continued pushing down on Bell, holding him as still as possible.
It was going to take cauterizing more than one time to seal the entire area off completely.
Bell blacked out. The pain was too much, overwhelming, but he was still breathing. There was that. Weber removed the blade from the wound, reached for the torch, and set to work heating the knife once again.
Chapter Thirty-One
Commander Anara Meyers and Captain Danielle Rivers reached the colony’s storage facility. Meyers had overrides for the doors. A single four-digit code that would get them into any of the rooms, halls, or restricted access areas. As a safety measure, she shared the information with Rivers.
When the door opened to the storage facility, the two of them entered the area and then stopped. Even under the emergency amber lights, the mounds of collected diamonds sparkled.
The room was huge. That was the best way the commander could think to describe it. It would take weeks transporting the collected diamonds from shuttle to a Euphoric barge ship. The diamonds were valuable, though. The drill bits made from jewels were supposedly unbreakable. Depleting natural resources on Earth was unfortunate, indeed. Thankfully, scientists had discovered the same or comparable necessities under the surfaces of neighboring planets.
“Have you ever seen anything like this before?” Rivers did a complete once around while walking deeper into the room.
Meyers said, “Never.”
“I was engaged once,” Rivers said. They moved, side-by-side, through the area. Weapons raised. Fingers on triggers. “Guy bought me a good-sized diamond for the engagement ring.”
Meyers didn’t want to interrupt. It was a moment. Someone under her command talking with her. As a person. Opening up. At the beginning of the mission, she worried about developing friendships. She knew missions forged relationships and bonds, but this right now was a first for this trip. She feared if she asked too many questions, or pried, she’d ruin the moment.
“I guess I loved him. Thought I did. Found out he was cheating on me. I called the thing off. Funny thing was, I didn’t even care. I mean, I cared. I was humiliated when I had to tell family and friends why I cancelled the wedding, you know? Everyone kept telling me it was better I learn what kind of a guy he was before getting married. And the ring, you know what I did with the ring?”
“Kept it?” Meyers said. It was a guess. Seemed the most likely. If the guy was cheating, he deserved the financial loss. That was the way she saw it.
“Hell, no,” Rivers scoffed. “Flushed it. In front of him.”
The commander laughed. “In front of him?”
“Shoulda seen his face!” Rivers said. And then she tried recreating the expression. Eyes wide, nose scrunched up. Lip raised. She laughed.
The commander stood still.
“What?” Rivers said.
“I heard something. Came from over there.” Meyers motioned with her weapon. To the right were mounds of diamonds. A small bulldozer sat between them.
The two of them remained silent, listening.
Commander Meyers rotated around. Aimed her blaster in the direction of the noise.
Rivers directed her attention toward where the commander had heard the sound. “Check it out?”
“Right behind you.”
Rivers took point. Each step was cautiously taken. Her weapon swiveled left, right, and then left again. Loose diamonds crunched underfoot as they moved toward the mounds and away from the cleared path.
Meyers walked backwards. Kept her back to Rivers’ back. She swept her blaster back and forth. Slow. Steady. She took in their surroundings. There wasn’t much else to see. Diamonds. Equipment. High, ballooned ceiling.
“What did the noise sound like?” Rivers asked. It didn’t sound like she doubted the commander but was just looking for clarification. “Stupid me, I was talking. All caught up in a story about me. I’m sorry, Commander.”
Meyers shook her head. “Forget it. You’re fine. I heard what I thought sounded like a hollow thud.”
Rivers grunted. Furrowed her brow. “Aye, Commander.”
They stood still between the piles and beside one of the bulldozers.
“Reminds me of pyramids. The ones that used to stand in Egypt,” Meyers said, and wondered if Rivers was too young to know about pyramids. Did they even teach Egyptian History in school anymore? Terrorists decimated the marvels down to nothing but sand centuries ago.
Passing the bulldozer, the angled sides of the piles came into view more and more with each step.
“I’m not seeing anything,” Rivers said.
“I’ve got something.” The diamonds were stained a different color. The amber glow made it difficult to identify what color the stain was. “It could be blood.”
Rivers looked to her left where Meyers stared. “Looks old. Dried.”
They reached the discoloration. Meyers scooped up a handful of diamonds for better inspection. “It’s blood,” she revealed.
“Commander.”
Rivers pointed the end of her blaster at the diamonds.
Meyers saw the cause for alarm. Fingers protruded from the mound.
“Someone under there?” Meyers asked.
Using the nose end of the blaster barrel, Rivers dug at the jewels around the fingers. “I got a hand over here, Commander. But that’s it. A hand. Severed at the wrist.” Rivers rolled the appendage over. “Chewed off is how it looks, though. Something chewed the hand off the arm.”
“Commander Meyers to Captain Stanton?” Meyers clicked her comlink. The hand looked slightly decayed. It wasn’t a fresh limb. It had been in the diamond pile a while. There was no chance it belonged to any of her people. While that provided a sliver of relief, it still begged the question: who does the hand belong to?
She waited a moment and then repeated her call.
“This Captain Stanton. Go ahead, Commander.”
“Rivers and I are inside the storage area. We’ve found something. What’s your location? Over.”
Static. Hiss. “We’ve just entered the storage area. East end. Where are you? Over.”
It could have been the noise she’d heard. Sound traveled funny inside the dome. “We’re on the west end. Between two enormous piles of diamonds. There is a bulldozer between the stacks. Over.”
“Roger. We see the bulldozer. We’re starting your way. Over.”
“Roger that.”
_____
Captain Adam Stanton and Lieutenant Angela Ruiz joined Rivers and the commander. The four of them stood around the severed hand.
“What went down here, Commander?” Ruiz asked.
Meyers shook her head. “I have no idea. We’re going to change things up. I don’t want us splitting up. I think it’s better if we search the rest of the colony together.”
“Agreed,” Stanton said.
The hand did in fact looked chewed off, as Captain Rivers had pointed out earlier. The questions that came to mind were quite basic. What happened here? And where was the rest of the guy?
“Those things, they got inside, didn’t they? Those creatures are inside the colony, aren’t they? That’s why there is no one around. That’s what happened to the colonists. Those things got them.” Ruiz looked wild. Her eyes were opened wide, and she kept chewing on her lower lip.
Stanton set a calming hand on Ruiz’s shoulder. “We’re going to figure this out. The four of us. We’ve got this. We’re trained for this. Okay?”
“I’m most anxious to reach the communications room,” Meyers said. She worried what the crew on the Eclipse might be up to. The last thing she wanted was them forming a rescue party. They did not need anyone else on the planet. They were safer in space, orbiting around Neptune. “I want to re-establish a connection with my ship. I want to bring Windsor up to speed.”
“Aye,” Stanton said. “We’ll take the lead.”
“Commander?” Rivers said. “Do you think there is anyone still alive down here?”
A third, and equally good question. “I don’t know, but we’re going to find out.”
There was a sound. A thud.
“Commander?” Ruiz said.
“I heard that,” Meyers said. “It came from back there.”
Stanton raised his blaster. “By the door? Sounded to me like it came from the west, from where Ruiz and I came over from.”
Meyers said, “The echoes in here, they’re throwing things off. It’s hard to tell where sound is coming from.”
“What was that?” Rivers said.
It sounded as if there was an avalanche of diamonds, but Meyers didn’t see any such slide.
They stood in a tactical circle, he four of them had their backs to each other. Weapons raised, always raised.
“We’re going to work our way back to the center of the facility,” Meyers said and tried not letting the stress get to her. In her mind, the mission was a failure. She’d lost at least three crew members, and until Weber returned with Bell …
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