Sons of Abraham: Pawns of Terror

by Ray, Joseph

  Two massive hands clutched her shoulders, pulling her off the corpse. She kicked out with her boot as Bearden pulled her away, managing to kick the back of the man’s skull one last time. The zoot red pools of blood lie thick under the motionless head, with tiny splatters from each impact sprayed a few inches in every direction. The blood had reached her fingertips, slowly dripping off them as she tried to claw her way back to the dead body.

  “Stand down soldier,” Bearden whispered.

  Janys tried to lunge forward, but the grip of the Sargent was too strong for her to break. Every time she threw herself forward, her shoulders were caught and she was pulled backward. The tears flowed freely as she lifted the bloodied fingers to her mouth, attempting to keep the heaving breaths at bay.

  Bearden left her there, crying in the middle of the floor like a child. He started with the soldier he’d stabbed, pulling the contents of the man’s pockets and pouches out and setting everything on the floor. He took the inventory and shoved them into his own pockets, then slid the man’s sidearm from his holster and slid it into his own. The pistol was larger than his, leaving the handle hanging out too far for the cover strap to reach the fastener. He ignored it as he threw the rifle up onto the nearest table and turned his attention to the bloody mess that Janys had created.

  There was no point in hiding the bodies. The massive pool of blood would take hours to clean up, a luxury that he didn’t have at the moment. He flipped the man over, exposing the carnage that had been taken upon him. His nose hung off his face, his eye sockets had been crushed into their holes, and most of the man’s teeth were scattered in the red pool. Bearden emptied the corpses’ pockets, sliding each item over to Janys, still trying to control her emotions. She saw the clips and grenades slide across the floor, some of them bouncing off her knees. Her bloodied hands dropped, fumbling over each object like it was the first time she’d seen such things. Her hands moved without her brains orders, placing each item into her empty pockets, one by one. She couldn’t look away from the blood pouring from the meat sack that had once been a man’s head. Her mind couldn’t believe that she had been capable of such horrors. She knelt there, fixed upon the destruction when the Sargent started to pull her to her feet.

  Bear grabbed her face when her feet found the floor, forcing her to look at him. Her pale blue eyes were still filled with tears, a pool of snot hanging from the tip of her pointed nose. He felt no disgust as he slid the back of his hand over her nose, wiping the fluids away.

  “Get it together soldier,” he whispered. “That man just killed innocent people and fucking deserved what you gave him. No different from being hanged or shot, just messier. Pick up the rifle and let’s give the rest of these bitches what they deserve.”

  She felt the rifle thrust into her chest, slowly wrapping her hands around the thin part of the stock. Her eyes returned to the bloodied mess on the floor as she slipped the strap over her shoulder, holstered the handgun, and tucked Bear’s pistol into her belt. The supplies were picked up from the delivery door as Bear pried the panel off the wall, exposing the hydraulic lines and the bypass to the door. He struggled, but managed to pull the bypass lever, rewarded with the hissing of the fluids draining from the lines.

  The door was pulled open by use of the emergency handles, allowing a gust of dusty wind to rip through the narrow opening. Janys felt her clothes jerk back as the hot wind blasted her. With the door opened as far as Bear felt necessary, the wind’s impact withered. The dust blowing around outside was blinding, but the wind was weaker than it appeared from within. The two covered their faces as they marched out into the open, nearly blinded by the red and orange dust of the Parasus moon.

  The duo stuck to the edge of the building, following the wall as far as they could. The garage was fifty feet away, but the dust storm wouldn’t allow for a clean visual. They lowered their heads and sprinted for the garage, taking to the right side of the large structure. The large bay doors were closed, leaving the small entrance on the right as their only option. They’d just rounded the corner when they were met with another figure in the storm. Unlike the duo, the soldier had goggles and a facemask, both allowing for him to clearly see the two coming at him. He raised his rifle and pulled the trigger.

  Bearden showed no sign of surprise when the soldier’s weapon refused to fire. He took the stock of his own rifle and struck the goggles of the surprised soldier, still looking at the weapon that refused his command. The blow knocked him on his back as the Sargent pulled his bloodstained knife from the holster and plunged it into the man’s exposed throat. The two crashed through the doorway, desperately trying to brush the dust and sand from their faces as they scouted for further trouble.

  Thankfully, the motor pool was unoccupied, leaving them free to shake the dust and sand from their clothes and bodies. Janys noted that Bearden turned his rifle muzzle down, shaking hard. Fine bits of sand fell out. He grimaced, then stormed off to the series of tools resting near an armored vehicle, the engine compartment torn wide open. Bear found an air compressor, took the nozzle and blew the dust out of the weapon. Janys handed him hers, allowing for him to clear out her weapon as well.

  “That stupid fucker didn’t think twice about the sand in his weapon,” he muttered, handing the rifle back to her. “If those were our boys, they’d had covers over the butts to keep that from happening.”

  Janys nodded, thankful for the wisdom the Sargent was sharing with her. Her thoughts roamed as she watched him head towards one of the two tanks in the motor pool. It was a dull, metallic vehicle, the dark gray paint intended to prevent the sun from shining off the exterior. Each side had four wheels, covered by armor halfway down to each rim. One rotating gun rested on top, with two turrets in the front and two more in the back of the vehicle. The tank had been intended for urban assault, but Divinity liked to be prepared for any occasion. The vents of the tank had all been welded shut, showing that the mechanics knew the sand storms would cause more problems than the vehicle overheating. Bear climbed the built in ladder, opening the hatch to the rotary gun on top.

  “We’ll need to load those shells,” he ordered, pointing to the row of three foot long shells, all held by racks, clustered in eight. “Grab that lift over there and bring them over. We should be able to get twenty-four shells in this baby. Then we’ll have to load the front and rear guns.”

  Janys marched to the lift, which whirled to life when she grabbed the handles. It was a walk-along, but it moved under its own power. She placed the forks through the open holes in the racks holding the shells and twisted the left handle. The rack was lifted a few inches from the ground as she pulled it away from the wall, then pushed it towards the waiting tank.

  “What’s your plan Sarge?” she asked, her feet sliding on the floor as she brought the lift to a stop.

  He took the first shell from her and sat it on its end on top of the tank. One by one, they loaded all eight onto the vehicle before Janys took the empty rack back to the wall.

  “Oh, there’s no plan,” he rang. “Just gonna welcome our new friends to Divinity.”

  ***********

  Abraham let the handheld controller to the computer system fall to the table. Sandra jerked awake from the tiny couch in the corner of the laboratory. Her eyes struggled to focus on the scene as she slowly recalled where she was. She saw Abraham clutching the edge of the table, his head hanging low.

  Her body protested as she slid to a seated position, her back aching from the poor choice of bedding. She managed to pull herself to her feet, wrapping the blanket around her body as she walked over to the slinking Cyber. Sometime during the day, Abe had taken a break from examining Cybill to fire up the climate control systems. The cool air was welcomed at first, but now it left her body chilled as she looked at the display monitor that Abe had wheeled around next to him.

  She slid an arm out from under the blanket, placing a chilled hand on Abraham’s back. She had no clue what the monitor was showing her, other th
an a darkened mass that she assumed was the woman’s brain.

  “What’s wrong?” she whispered, her throat begging for water.

  Abraham lifted his hands off the table, pulling away from the comforting hand on his back. His black discs focused on the motionless woman in the cryo chamber as he circled around, retrieving the control device as he went. His fingers pressed the screen, his fingers meeting together and then spreading outward. Sandra watched as the monitor next to her obeyed the command, panning the view. She could make out the lobes of the woman’s brain, but still had no clue what she was looking at.

  “Do you see the dark areas in the center of the brain?” Abraham asked, still looking at Cybill.

  “Yeah,” she replied, noting the dark area that lined the various lobes.

  “Those are damaged areas,” he muttered, his finger tracing the screen.

  Sandra watched as the screen zoomed in, tracking the darkened areas, that she now knew to be damage. The closer the view zoomed in, the more she could make out the tiny lines of what she assumed was the cybernetic enhancements. The camera stopped at a small ball that lies directly in the middle of where all the lobes met. She couldn’t count them, but she could see hundreds, if not thousands of tiny fibers branching out from the ball, heading out into various areas off the screen. The ball and the fibers looked black in the screen, surrounding by dark grays of the damaged area.

  “Her processor and fiber wires were scorched,” he muttered. “The temperature raised to a level that the brain itself was burned.”

  “Well, can’t you fix it?” she asked, too tired to know if she sounded stupid or not.

  Abraham looked at her, laying the control pad back on the table. His brows lowered as he hung his head, his hand returning to the corner of the slab. It suddenly struck her what he was implying. She let the blanket fall to the floor as she stepped around the table, slowing sliding her hands over the Cyber’s shoulders and pulling him in close.

  He felt cold against the exposed skin of her arms. His body remained limp, neither taking the embrace nor pulling away from it. She searched for the proper words, but nothing was coming to mind.

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

  “I need some time,” he replied, pulling away from her reach.

  “I understand,” she stated, retracing her steps and picking the blanket off the floor. “Do you need anything?”

  “Just some privacy,” he muttered. “I suspect you won’t wish to be present when I cut her open.”

  “Cut her open?!” she shrieked. “What the hell for?”

  Abraham looked at her, noting the heightened state of her vital signs. He walked around the table, placing himself a foot away from her before he spoke.

  “I have to remove her processor and data stems,” he explained. “I’m sure it sounds barbaric to you, but I have little choice. The data is likely corrupted, but I have to try to upload anything I can from her. I have twelve other children to find and no way of tracking them without accessing the information that is stuck in her memory. I don’t WANT to do this, but I HAVE to. I can’t just give up on them.”

  The words jumbled in her head. She understood his need to find his children, but her heart was unable to grasp the thought of opening the poor girl’s skull. She said nothing as she slid around him and headed out the door. She returned to the front entrance, finding Jenna huddled over her data pad, a berry bar halfway consumed in her free hand.

  “Good evening,” Jenna announced upon seeing her sister. “What news from the Cyber world?”

  Jenna’s face was locked in a beaming smile, slowly fading as she caught the morbid expression on Sandra’s face. Her older sister plopped down on the couch, her shoulders slinking as she turned and pressed her face against the back cushion.

  “Cybill is brain dead,” she groaned.

  “No,” Jenna whispered, placing a hand to her mouth. “Is Abe alright?”

  “Hard to say,” Sandra replied, closing her eyes. “That man is impossible to read. He doesn’t want to, but he says he has to cut her open and take out her implants so he can find the others.”

  “Yuk,” Jenna offered. “I’m guessing you didn’t stick around for that.”

  “Uh, no,” she muttered. “I don’t want to learn about how Cybers work. Besides, Abe asked to be alone for a while. Not that I wanted to stick around for the surgery.”

  Sandra opened her eyes, her pale blue locking onto her little sister’s. The younger face reminded her so much of her mother. It was hard to remember her now with so many years having passed since her death. Despite the butchering that was occurring down the hallway, Sandra knew that a more important conversation needed to transpire.

  “We need to talk about Quaid,” she started. “I’m sorry I made the decision for us, there just wasn’t time to discuss it with you. God, I hope you’re not mad at me for it.”

  “No,” Jenna muttered, looking down at the couch. “Quaid was a dead-end. We don’t know Abe very well, but he’s WAY nicer than the Captain. Besides, we actually ended up on a decent planet.”

  Jenna lifted the datapad from her lap and tilted it to share what lie on the screen. Her fingers flipped across the smooth surface, showing various businesses, factories, ranches, and other photos of significance.

  “There’s a lot to do here,” she continued with excitement in her voice. “There’s help wanted ads all over the stream. I found a security vendor in town that’s looking for a programmer. I bet you could land that job if you wanted.”

  Sandra looked at the ad that Jenna showed her, noting the experience requirements as well as the systems they wanted applicants to be familiar with. She looked down the list, realizing that she was familiar with every system they called out.

  “Not bad,” she muttered. “What are YOU going to do, though?”

  Jenna smiled as she slid the wanted ad off the screen, pulling up what she was working on. Sandra read the top of the screen, a smile forming on her face when she read the words ‘Medical Students.’

  “I’m taking an aptitude test,” she shrieked. “The beginning was pretty basic, so I know I aced it. The section on medical terms was a little hard, but I think I did all right. I was thinking that I could enroll in one of the schools here while you went to work. We could start making some honest credits, make a decent life maybe?”

  Honest credits. Those were two words that hadn’t been placed together in Sandra’s mind since she worked at factories and restaurants. Her mind placed the pieces together, imagine her going to the same place every morning, perhaps dropping her sister off at a school on her way to work. They could have dinner together, talking about days that didn’t include the next job, or how they were going to pay for food or fuel. It sounded right, but it felt confining. She hadn’t realized it, but she had enjoyed the freedom that Quaid had offered them. They didn’t have to pay rent or utilities. They just broke into places, stole some valuables, and sold them so they could keep the Hopper in the air. Two entirely different lives were facing off against one another. She hadn’t a clue, which her heart was leaning towards.

  “It’s a good plan,” she offered. “I’m not sure about working straight hours again, but it beats starving to death or living in homeless shelters.”

  “Maybe I’ll make friends with some doctors,” Jenna continued. “Find a nice, young, cute guy with a Ph.D. I’ll tell him all about my older sister and insist he take you out to dinner.”

  Sandra’s eyes opened wide as her mind failed to recall the last time she went out on a date. There was a guy that used to sell stolen data pads, but that was little more than a hookup. She’d spent the last few years fending off Quaid. Other than that, she hadn’t a man in her entire life. The thought filled her with dread.

  “Maybe start with a janitor,” she replied. “Then let me work up to the doctors.”

  The sisters shared a laugh as Jenna handed over what remained of her berry bar. Sandra took the offering, realizing that her slumber had le
ft her famished. She downed the bar in three bites, getting that she hadn’t a clue where to throw her trash.

  “We need to look into this place,” she started. “We’ve been here for hours and we’ve barely looked around.”

  “Maybe YOU haven’t,” Jenna replied, putting the datapad down on the table in front of the couch. “I, however, have been through the entire place. I put your stuff upstairs. All the rooms are the same, so no fights about who gets what room. I gave you one of the corner rooms so you could have a better view, though.”

  “Thanks,” she replied, realizing that her belongings were missing from the table. “What else is there?”

  “There’s only one bathroom,” Jenna started. “But I think we can manage to share. There’s a kitchen and some other rooms too, but some of them need a passcode. I suggest you get a shower before you do anything else.”

  Sandra thought back, unable to recall the last time she’d bathed. The thought made her nose wrinkle as she tried not to smell herself. The Hopper had a shower, but the water was barely heated to an acceptable level.

  “They have any shower supplies?” she asked.