Worlds Without End: The Mission (Book 1)

by Shaun F. Messick

CHAPTER 5: THE TEMPLE

  Skip's body flinched, awakening him from his deep sleep. His head pounded as if razor sharp nails scratched across his scalp, and short bursts of pain shot down his left leg. He winced as he lifted both arms slowly to take off his cracked space helmet. When he saw his left hand, it was covered in blood from the elbow down. He took his helmet off and felt his body for any areas that may have been punctured. He felt around his torso; nothing. Where is the blood coming from?

  He looked around to assess the damage. His eyes widened as they regained focus to view the catastrophe he apparently survived. From what he could tell, the center of the fuselage of NightHawk was split in two by a massive tree trunk. The tree trunk now rested between the two seats Skip and Jake had been sitting in. In fact, Skip's left shoulder rested snugly against the tree's cold bark. He tried to look around the trunk for Jake. He couldn't see around it.

  "J ? Ja ? Jake," he said as he coughed up blood. "Jake ? are you okay?"

  There was no answer.

  Please, don't be dead, he thought.

  Another sharp pain shot down Skip's left leg. He wondered if his leg was broken. He looked down. His eyes nearly rolled to the back of his head. He fought to stay conscious. He looked again to make sure what he saw was real. Sure enough, blood trickled out of his leg just above the kneecap. He shook his head to keep from fainting and looked again. His terror was solidified when he noticed why.

  Just above his kneecap was the jagged edge of his femur bone. Shreds of his quadriceps and hamstring muscles hung loosely off the edge of his seat. He reached down to make sure. It felt like his leg was still there. But, as he felt, his worst fear was realized. The tree trunk must have clipped his knee in the crash and ripped his left leg off just above the kneecap.

  Skip looked around for something to tie around his thigh. Then, he remembered there was a first-aid kit in the compartment immediately to his right. He opened the compartment and found the first-aid kit. He ripped a piece of cloth in two, took one strip, and tied it around his left thigh as tight as he possibly could. He hoped it was tight enough to stop the bleeding.

  "Jake? Jake?"

  Again, there was no answer. He had to get out of his seat and somehow make his way to Jake to make sure he was alive. Skip slowly unbuckled himself. He winced in pain as he tried to get out of his seat. It was no use. He must have lost too much blood. He couldn't muster the strength to pull himself out of his seat. He tried again, and then he heard Jake.

  "Shh," Jake whispered.

  Skip was relieved. "Jake, are you okay?"

  Jake whispered again. "Shh. Somebody's here."

  Skip held his breath and heard two voices. One voice was deep and raspy, the other sounded young.

  The young voice spoke first in a language Skip could not understand.

  The deep voice then spoke in perfect English. "How many times do I need to tell you, Private? You will speak the language of our goddess mother. If his lordship knew you were speaking our primitive tongue, he would have your head."

  The young voice responded in broken English. "Sorry ? Sergeant. I not have ? uh ? learned our goddess mother's language yet."

  "You are lucky it's just your first year in the academy, Private. If you were a commissioned officer, you would be put to death for speaking that primitive tongue. When did you start your language training?"

  "Ye ? Yeste ? Yesterday."

  "Yesterday? You should know at least half of the vocabulary by now. You are behind, Private. If you don't pass the exam by the end of the week, you will be dismissed from the academy and be a disgrace to the Gnol way of life."

  "Yes ? s ? sir."

  Skip wondered who or what learned English in a week. He heard the voices getting closer.

  The older voice spoke first. "Now, since this is your first field mission, Private, watch and learn."

  "Yes, sir."

  "Good. You're getting better."

  "This must be the wreckage from the ship the humans stole. Let's find out if any of these humans survived. Then, we will travel back to Chast and file our report."

  Skip was anxious. He kept his eyes closed. Maybe they would think he was already dead, especially in his condition. He heard the two aliens walk past him on his right.

  The younger alien spoke first. "This human ? uh ? look died."

  "Yes and the proper phrase is - 'This human looks dead.'"

  "Yes, sir. This human looks dead."

  "Good," the older alien said. "Let's make sure."

  Skip felt his heart thumping harder in his chest. He heard one of the aliens approach. The alien placed what felt like two fingers on his carotid artery.

  "This one is still alive," the older alien said. He slapped Skip in face. "Wake up, you human scum!"

  Skip did not want to open his eyes. Nevertheless, his curiosity got the best of him. He wanted to see what these aliens looked like. He slowly opened his eyes.

  "Ah, it is alive," said the older alien.

  Skip was shocked by what he saw. Instead of the ugly, reptilian-like aliens he had expected, he saw what looked like two human beings in front of him. The older alien was bent over, gazing at him with angry eyes. He was a broad man with a goatee, dressed in red fatigues with black trim. On his feet were what looked like military-issue boots and on his shaved head was a red beret. On the center of the alien's beret was an insignia Skip did not recognize.

  Skip glanced past the older alien in order to get a better look at the younger one. The younger alien was slightly smaller. He also had a goatee and looked to be around twenty years old. He was dressed the same, but his head was not shaved. He had a military haircut.

  The older alien grabbed Skip by his throat but didn't squeeze. "Who are you? Are you a member of the slave resistance?"

  Skip managed to speak. "I don't know what you're talking about."

  The older alien laughed and turned to the younger alien. "This one speaks the goddess mother's language, and better than you. Impressive." The older alien turned to face Skip again. He knelt down on one knee on what remained of Skip's computer terminal. He grabbed Skip's left thigh with his black-gloved hand. Skip screamed in pain.

  "Don't lie to me, human. You must be a member of the slave resistance because you speak our mother's language so well."

  Skip spit blood into the older alien's face. The alien backhanded him across his face. Blood began to trickle from his left eye. The alien stood up and turned to the younger alien. "Keep an eye on this one. We need him alive for interrogation. I will check to see if this human over here is dead or not. Once I finish, we will find the computer's hard drive and download all of its information. And then, we will take him with us to Chast."

  "Why ? not ? we just probe his mind?" the younger alien asked.

  The older alien shot the younger alien an angry look. "Not here, Private! I'm sure the colonel would want the pleasure!"

  "Yes, sir."

  Skip watched as the older alien walked around the tree trunk.

  Unexpectedly, Skip heard the sounds of two gunshots and saw the older alien fall from behind the trunk. Blood slowly began to seep out from the two bullet holes in his head. The younger alien quickly tried to grab his firearm at his side, but he wasn't fast enough. Skip saw Jake jump from behind the tree trunk with the handgun aimed directly at the younger alien. He fired two more shots directly into the younger alien's chest. The alien landed dead in the snow.

  Jake walked up to the younger alien still aiming the gun at him. He placed two fingers on the alien's neck. "They're both dead."

  Jake then turned to face Skip and nearly vomited when he saw his dear friend's condition. "Oh, man, Skip. If I had known, I would have helped you sooner."

  Jake knelt down to face Skip.

  "It's okay. I found the first-aid kit and tied a tourniquet around my thigh. I hope I tied it tight enough to stop the bleeding."

  Jake examined Skip's leg. "I think you did. I don't see it bleeding anymore, but you're sitting in a p
ool of blood. There's no telling how much blood you've lost. We've got to find some shelter fast. It's getting dark, and the temperature is dropping quickly."

  "I don't think I can move, Jake."

  Jake stood up and looked around. "That's okay. There are pieces of NightHawk everywhere. I'm sure I can make some sort of sled with a left over piece of wing. There's some rope in the locker."

  Skip shook his head and winced in pain. "Are those guys human?"

  Jake looked at the two aliens lying in the snow. "They sure seem to be. But the way they spoke ? I don't know. It's like they have some kind of ability we humans don't have. And, it's obvious they hate humans."

  "What were they talking about, some sort of slave resistance? Maybe this resistance can help us?"

  "Yeah, maybe. Listen, I better get a sled rigged so that I can pull you to some shelter. I'll grab some food rations and water too. You're going to need some rest."