Breakout: (Space Outlaw 1)

by Dominique Mondesir

  "Argghhh!"

  A wicked scream that sounded a lot closer than Phoenix would have liked cut through the room. "What was that?"

  "All the cell doors are open. And I mean all of them," said Saoirse.

  "Even the ones down here?"

  "We need to move. L should have a ship ready. All we have to do is get there," said Saoirse.

  "I can't believe this is happening," said the executioner. "If you think I'll allow such a thing to take place in my presence, then you are sorely mistaken. I have a duty to uphold! I have honour! I have--"

  "Will you please fucking shut him up?" yelled Phoenix, pointing at the executioner.

  A roundhouse kick to the face from Saoirse did the job. The executioner slumped to the floor and lay there, limp.

  "Thank you," said Phoenix with a sigh. "What an annoying prick."

  Once he stood from the chair, Saoirse unfastened his handcuffs. Phoenix walked over to one of the guards on the floor and picked up his weapon.

  Barrel? Check. Trigger? Check.

  Phoenix pointed the gun at the wall and pulled the trigger, but nothing happened. "What the hell?"

  "I thought as much. They are DNA-coded, so only the guards can use them. Otherwise all hell would break loose if they fell into the wrong hands," said Saoirse.

  "Here," said Plowstow, handing a weapon to Phoenix handle-first.

  Taking the gun, Phoenix looked long and hard at Plowstow. The room grew deathly silent as neither spoke. Phoenix understood why Plowstow had done it, why he ratted them out. It was partly fear of being caught, partly selfishly hoping he would be let out for his sneaky deed. The only thing that troubled Phoenix was why Plowstow was here now.

  "What are you doing here?" said Phoenix.

  "Yeah, well. You see. Err.." Plowstow ran his hands over his head as he avoided Phoenix's gaze. "I didn't want anyone to get hurt. Maybe a li'l roughed up, but I didn't know that Freyan would be tortured. That's not something I would ever be okay with. Really. Just...I was trying to be smart and help you out. That's all. Thought if I told the Warden this plan was all Saoirse's idea and you were helpless, he might let us go on good behaviour. I was just thinking, that was all."

  Phoenix breathed slowly in and out as he looked towards the ceiling. "In future, leave the thinking to someone else. Now I think it's time we made a move."

  A shriek bellowing in the corridor outside the door made them all look at each other. As silence once more descended on the room, they all held their breath.

  The pounding of footsteps could be heard.

  Gripping their weapons, they steeled themselves for what was about to come.

  41

  Heavy knocking against the Warden's office door caught his attention. The lights had gone out, leaving nothing apart from the red emergency lights overhead. The Warden had been furiously trying to get his systems to work, but it had been no use. Computers, comms, cameras, everything was dead. None of it worked. Slamming his hand against his desk, he yelled in frustration. What was going on? It couldn't be! That Earth fool should be dead right now! There was no way he had managed to escape.

  "Enter!" said the Warden.

  Shanks swept into the office, his green face a mask of panic.

  "What is it?" asked the Warden.

  "There is no power. Shanks doesn't know why there is no power. But there is none."

  "I can see there is no power--you think I'm stupid? This is what you think? Have I not got eyes? Send someone to the engine room to see what the problem is," said the Warden.

  "Shanks has, but it is worse. The cells are unlocked."

  "Can't be. The secondary engine was built to prevent that. Even if power to everything else is cut, the last thing to go would be the cells. You know this!" said the Warden.

  "Shanks does, but still. They are open. Prisoners are now roaming the corridors. Shanks's guards are doing their best to combat it, but losing battle."

  "It can't be! Everything I have built! Everything!" He slammed his palm on his desk and papers went everywhere. Gripping his cane tightly, the Warden got up and began to pace the room. "Arm the guards. Tell them to shoot anyone seen outside their cells. Send your best people after Phoenix. He's the cause of all this. Take him out. Tell them to use whatever they can to do it."

  "But Phoenix is where the rejects are. Deep. In belly of ship. Rejects' cells open, too. If I send people, they are gone," said Shanks in a small voice.

  "That's the price we have to pay, Shanks. He thinks he has won. I think not! Mr Jones thinks he is smarter than I? Bah! I will show him. I will show them..."

  Boom!

  Overhead lights flickered, and they were thrown off their feet.

  The Warden got back up with some effort as something warm ran down his forehead. Brushing it away, his fingers came back wet. Holding his hand to his face, he scowled. Blood!

  The Warden gripped his desk as another tremor rocked the ship. Looking up at Shanks, he radiated displeasure.

  "This will not do, Shanks! This will not stand. I am the Warden of this ship. I am God here!"

  A wide-eyed guard came through the door, bloodstains splatted across his uniform. Face cut and marked, he had the look of someone who had seen the pits of hell and wanted his eyes burned from their sockets.

  "Warden! The prisoners are slowly overrunning the prison! There is nothing we can do to stop them. Their numbers are too great. We can't signal for help or backup. The robot gun drones are offline. No power, everything is dead. What are we to do, sir?" The guard looked back and forth between the Warden and Shanks, waiting for an answer.

  The Warden ran his hand slowly over his mouth, then smiled at the guard. "Do not fear, my son. Help is on its way. I was able to get a distress signal out before we went offline completely. They received the message and should be here shortly. Do not worry, I know best. Have I ever steered any of you wrong? No. This storm shall pass, like all things. Now, my dear boy, what I need you to do is pick up that weapon of yours and get back in the fight. I need every able body that I have to stop this." The Warden walked towards the guard and placed his hand on his shoulder, giving him a warm smile. "Do not fret, my boy. You shall live to see another day. Now go." The Warden patted him on the shoulder.

  The Warden watched his man hurry out the way he came. He listened until the guard's footsteps died away. Walking towards his desk, he pulled out a bag from under it and began packing.

  Shanks stood with his mouth open and eyes wide in puzzlement.

  "Help me pack this bag, you fool. Don't just stand there with your mouth agape. Hurry!"

  "But, but Shanks heard you say help was coming. Shanks heard you say everything will be all right."

  "I was lying. This place is doomed." After getting everything he needed into his bag, the Warden looked around the room one more time, double-checking that he hadn't missed anything. Satisfied, he looked at Shanks.

  "We shall head towards the ship with the cargo. Once onboard, we will plot a course for Earth. I shall destroy Mr Jones's home planet once and for all. He thinks he has won. I think not! I shall laugh while the buildings of his cities burn. This shall be my last act as Warden. Let's move!"

  42

  Phoenix held his breath while the footsteps drew closer. Now he could hear a snarl that threatened to tear his bowels from his body. Resting on one knee, he levelled the gun at the door. Looking sideways, he saw Plowstow and Saoirse do the same.

  A monstrous head appeared at the entrance, where the door once had been. Phoenix just had time to see fangs and claws before three pulsing blue lights shot towards it. Head thrown back by the plasma shots, the body dropped out of view. Only a foot could be seen from the doorway, twitching uncontrollably.

  "Incoming! There are more!" screamed Plowstow.

  As bodies filled the doorway, Phoenix saw the most horrid, disfigured creatures he had ever seen--skin weeping from open sores and cuts, eyes wild and unfocused, lost as to where they were or how they came to be here. Claws h
ad formed where there should have been digits, bone was sticking out from the tops of their heads.

  They came in force. They came to kill.

  Phoenix held his plasma gun against his shoulder and fired. There was no recoil or action delivery. He pointed and fired and blue light shot out. Bodies crumpled and collapsed as fast as they came through the door.

  One reject made it through without being hit. It was closing in on the trio and fast, with murder in its eyes.

  "Cover me!" Saoirse drew a knife that looked like every hunter's dream. She met the attacker head-on. Ducking under its wide swings, she slashed it across the stomach and the back of the legs, bringing it down. Plunging the blade into its eye socket up to the hilt ended the creature's struggle.

  "Down!" yelled Phoenix. Firing three shots over Saoirse's head, he saved her back from being carved.

  Saoirse give him a nod of thanks before she moved back to her previous position.

  "We can't hold out here forever!" said Phoenix.

  "No, we can't," replied Saoirse.

  "How many rounds do these things hold?" asked Phoenix.

  "Five thousand."

  "Okay, on my count, everyone push forward and keep your finger on that trigger!" Phoenix took a deep breath to calm his mind. This was it--the end was in sight. Everything had to be perfect. "Move!"

  They marched slowly as one towards the door, firing into the entrance. Everyone on their side was safely tucked away, leaving only enemies banging at their gates, standing between them and freedom.

  The trio laid down continuous fire until the points of the plasma guns began to glow red. As some shots hit the metal outskirts of the entrance, they too took on a similar red glow. Standing shoulder to shoulder, the three fired into the void beyond. Bodies littered the floor before them. Holding up his hand for a ceasefire, Phoenix looked beyond the entrance.

  "I think the coast is clear for now," he said.

  "I believe so too," Saoirse said with a nod.

  "You never know, anything can happen," said Plowstow.

  Phoenix took a step forward and knelt down by one of the smoking bodies. The smell of burnt hair and flesh overran the air.

  "What are these things?" asked Phoenix.

  "These things are people. Like you and me," snapped Saoirse.

  Phoenix held his hands up and shook his head, "Look, I meant no offence. I apologise."

  "I suppose you could not have known. It's fine. These poor people are the prisoners the Warden tested his early drugs on. He calls them the rejects. He used them as test subjects to work out all the kinks. He used them worse than animals! They may have been prisoners and criminals, but that doesn't make what he did right! It lacks honour!" said Saoirse, punching the wall.

  "I agree. We'll see what we can do to make him pay. Let's move out," said Phoenix through gritted teeth.

  Phoenix kept his plasma gun up and ready. They moved slowly through the corridors housing the rejects. Saoirse had assured them that although they had seen many off, there were still a great many to take their place.

  "How far is the hangar from here?" asked Phoenix.

  "We have a ways to go yet. Three floors, then we should be where we need to," said Saoirse.

  Plowstow said, "Three long, deadly floors. With murderers, psychos, pirates, guards and--"

  A sound from their left cut him off. Three guns pointed into the darkness. Six pairs of ears tried to home in on any movement. Nothing stirred.

  "And the Warden's pet projects. Sure can't see this going wrong," finished Plowstow.

  "You know, that's why I like you, Plowstow. You're always the life of the party," said Phoenix.

  Plowstow made a hand gesture that Phoenix gathered wasn't polite. In an arrow formation, they moved forward with bonded determination.

  "Doesn't it seem strange that a prison warden would be supplying and making drugs? I mean, it's one thing to fiddle money off the top. If that was his game, I could understand, but drug dealing? Well, drug creating really. Damn. I thought that shit was hard to do," said Phoenix.

  "He wasn't always in charge of this prison. Before, that he used to make and sell drugs to the highest bidder," said Saoirse.

  "Nothing's changed, then."

  "No, it appears not. As you well know, I have been after the Warden for some time. Before he went by 'the Warden', he was called Smit. Smit likes to think of himself as some sort of genius, pushing the limits of what people think is possible. He was known across galaxies for having the best drugs. Anything you wanted, he got it for you. Until one day, the wrong person overdosed, and he had to go into hiding for his life. The Portendorfer family paid for him to have reconstructive surgery, in return for his services, and gave him a comfortable job."

  "But that still doesn't explain why you've been tracking him for so long. There must have been easier ways. Safer ways. Other people that could have taken care of it," said Phoenix.

  "I have a debt that needs to be paid in blood."

  Saoirse stopped to look at him with a gaze that made Phoenix step back. This woman was a killer, through and through. He would have to remember that in the future.

  A scaly arm wrapped around Phoenix's throat and yanked him up. Its strength was incredible. He felt light-headed. Spots danced in front of his vision like go-go dancers. Then the darkness came. It slowly appeared at the edge of his vision, filling the corners like black oil in water.

  With a battle cry, Saoirse buried one of her knives into the attacker's flesh.

  Phoenix heard a squeal of pain behind him, then he was released. After collapsing to the floor, he rolled and started firing before he was fully on his knees. Blue light lit the darkness of the cell, but Phoenix wished it hadn't. Dozens of tortured faces snarled back at the crew, wanting nothing more than their blood.

  "Move!" shouted Phoenix.

  He allowed the others to go ahead of him while he kept firing into the cell. Turning on his heel, he ran. Footsteps from unseen horrors echoed behind him. Way too close behind him.

  Phoenix pointed his gun behind his head and fired wildly. He didn't care what he hit, as long as he hit something.

  Feet pounding, heart racing, he couldn't stop his brain from sending him messages about how many pairs of feet it sounded like were after him. However many the number, there were far too many to deal with at once.

  Saoirse and Plowstow took point ahead of him and began firing at the targets behind. Blue light skimmed Phoenix more than once. The prickly heat of the shots singed the hair on his arms. Running past his partners, Phoenix covered some distance before he took a similar position himself.

  "I have you covered!"

  Phoenix fired shot after shot into the rushing prisoners, making sure he didn't hit the other two. With the amount of shots the plasma gun gave him, he could be as wasteful as he wanted--within reason.

  As Phoenix felt the breeze of Saoirse and Plowstow rushing past him, he didn't acknowledge their passing, but kept his focus on the task ahead.

  Three left. A blue head with more teeth than a crocodile. Phoenix aimed. He shot. The head was no more.

  Two left. A green humanoid that looked like a Komodo dragon roared in fury. Blue shots hit him repeatedly in the chest until he collapsed in a twitching mess.

  Phoenix missed his last target as his shots went wide. This one moved faster than the rest and would be on him in seconds. Phoenix wouldn't be able to get a shot off in time.

  "Shit!"

  43

  The alien hit Phoenix full in the chest, knocking the wind out of him. He collapsed backwards under the weight, and the prisoner was on top of him in an instant. Its claws and teeth tried to find a soft target so they could sink in.

  Phoenix brought his hands up to defend himself. He batted away the blows as best he could. They were fast and furious. Sparks flew as claws hit metal.

  Better that than my face, thought Phoenix.

  Throwing his legs up, he wrapped them around the prisoner's shoulders and neck, fo
rming a triangle. Squeezing his legs for dear life, Phoenix wondered if the creature had arteries in the same locations as a human. If it didn't, the choke he was applying would be worthless.

  Before Phoenix could plan his next move, he was picked up. Suspended in the air, he was forced to release his hold or have the creature slam him through the floor.

  Phoenix fell to his ass and grabbed the back of the prisoner's heels, and kicked it in the stomach to send it flying backwards. His attacker landed on its back, stunned. Phoenix got up first and threw a soccer kick straight at its head. The alien moved out of the way, catching Phoenix's foot and pulling him down. The thing was fast. Too fast.

  Phoenix rolled on his shoulder and made it to his feet at the same time as it. He could see it clearly now. Red, blotchy skin was breaking and weeping in some places. Claws as long and sharp as a bear's extended from its fingers. Pointy fangs littered its mouth.

  Not waiting for it to strike first, Phoenix rushed it. Shooting low, he wrapped his arms around the creature's legs, bringing it down. Landing on top, Phoenix secured himself across its chest and began to rain down hammer-fisted blows.

  He stopped after it grew still. Rising off its chest, he wiped his hands clean. They throbbed and ached. He walked towards his gun, picking it up with tender hands. They were probably broken, but the adrenaline would carry him through. He would worry about it when he had time. Right now, he needed to move.

  Phoenix walked away from the corpse and saw Saoirse and Plowstow watching him.

  "Thanks for the help, you fuckers. Teamwork, ay?" Phoenix snapped.

  "We couldn't get off a shot for fear of hitting you," said Saoirse. "Plus, it was good to see you in mortal combat. These things ease a mind as to who is watching their back. You are indeed a good warrior, Phoenix Jones."

  "Thanks, I guess."

  Saoirse led the way until they came to a door. Holding it open, Phoenix peered at a flight of stairs.

  "I guess the only way is up, right?"