Hell's Own

by T S Weaver

  A baby’s wail tore through the air.

  Babies. Why did there have to be babies here? Kids, sticky-handed, whining children were bad enough, but keeping an infant quiet wouldn’t be easy. Not unless they drugged the kid. Hard enough to keep older ones silent. Another problem to add to the list, but she’d be damned if she left anyone behind.

  A movement caught her attention.

  Stone. With a blonde teenager. Female. Salla.

  Her hackles rose. If the man were trying to charm the teen, she’d have words. More than words if he attempted anything else. The damn female was too young for him, and they were in enough trouble. The thought burned in the back of her mind. He wouldn’t be that foolish, and worrying about the teen would spend energy she didn’t want to waste.

  Gunny. Her throat tightened at the thought of the older man. Dying from crushing, or the injuries resulting from it, wasn’t the way a man like him should have gone. Now she was left to handle the rest of this on her own.

  Pull out of it. I can do this. I’ve never failed before.

  Failure wasn’t an option. Not when so many lives were on the line.

  “Sergeant, we have a problem.”

  Just what she needed to hear.

  He couldn’t move. Not with the way, the separate cell held him, and the others in place. Iris’ screams of terror faded into the background, but he couldn’t turn to see what had happened. If the girl was still close enough to be seen through the transparent walls, he didn’t know and wasn’t in a position to check. “Iris? Can you hear me?”

  “She’s gone, they dragged her away,” said Charles, his voice sharp, words clipped. “Bastards. If they’ve hurt her I’ll--”

  “You’ll what? You’re not combat trained,” said Matthew. “Leave any revenge to those who know what to do with a weapon.”

  “I can still kill. If I get near enough.”

  The man was angry enough to manage it, regardless of skill or lack thereof, but it wouldn’t be enough to stand against a combat trained Marine. Zac closed his eyes and let his mind run through the options. There weren’t many available to him. To them. “As long as they keep us in these cages, we’re helpless.” Like this, he couldn’t move not even to lift his hands and touch the collar now locked around his throat.

  A prisoner.

  A slave.

  Owned meat.

  The alien stood in front of them, watching the display. It’s three eyes tracked each movement, however slight. And slight was all they could give. Their bodies locked in place, the need to move as he struggled against the restraints, and still, the alien observed them.

  “What are you doing?” Zac demanded.”What do you want with us?”

  The alien stepped closer and tapped the clear confinement holding Zac in place. Once it had Zac’s full attention, the creature brought its digits to its neck and touched where the collar would have been if there’d been one locked around the observer’s throat.

  “Yeah, you put it there. Your point?”

  It didn’t turn away from Zac and chirruped.

  “I don’t understand you. None of us do. We’re not like you.”

  The alien inclined its head.

  Zac frowned and pressed his face against the seethrough confines. “You understand us? Understand me?”

  A small, but very clear shrug the only response.

  It understood at least some words. Alright, this opened a small door. “What do you want with us?”

  The alien touched his throat again.

  “Slaves? Prisoners?”

  It tipped its head to the left, eyes narrowed, then turned away from the small group. It walked with a clicking sound, each step marking its passage through the area until it was no longer in sight.

  “Shit, they understand enough to cause a problem.” Matthew leaned his head back against the cell. “Means we’ll have to be careful how we plan an escape.”

  Zac rolled his eyes. “You really believe we’re going to find a way out of this? Take a good look around you. We don’t have a way of breaking out of the cell, have no clue where they’ve taken Iris and could be listening in on us. We can’t break free when we’re outnumbered, unarmed and held prisoner. Or didn’t you notice the collar and manacles?” He tried to lift his hand but couldn’t, not without bending his arm and twisting it through the small gap. If he managed to force his hand to his face, what was to say the aliens wouldn’t tighten the confines of the cell until he couldn’t move at all?

  Or punished them.

  Yeah, they could punish prisoners with ease, especially with the way they were being held in place.

  “Iris, we have to find out what’s happened to her.” Charles insisted.

  “I know, but there’s nothing we can do from here. It’s ridiculous to believe we could.” Zac took a deep breath and tried to force his thoughts back into a semblance of order. “But yes, we have to find Iris.” The girl had to be terrified. Whatever happened to Iris, she was now facing it alone. He hadn’t been able to help her. None of them had. “They can’t keep us like this forever.”

  “Yes, they can.” Charles sighed, shoulders slumped. “We could be kept on our feet for hours, days, however long they wish to keep us like this. And Iris, we’ll find her. We’ll get her and us out of this one way or another.”

  Zac wanted to ask how they were going to do it. What they needed to do to escape. It wasn’t easy, nor were there any clues in front of them to led the way through to safety. What they needed to do to break free and find Iris. What happened to him, to the others, wasn’t important, not unless it allowed them to rescue the girl.

  14

  This isn’t going to work. Stone read through the notes on his datapad, the inventory list from here, and the supply dump. Too many people and items. They couldn’t get them all out of here in one piece. Except if he dumped his load. Not going to happen. He’d worked too hard to leave it scattered on the surface of Pluto. His life, his entire life was in his ship. Not only the items gathered for sale, but the personal ones. Bottles of spirit. Pieces of... well, it didn’t matter. He wasn’t about to abandon it.

  “You appear a little off.” Salla set her own datapad down on one of the boxes. “Tired and other things. I’ve seen things like this before. In my dad. You remember him, right? The way he was able to tell things about people. You joked with him about superpowers. Nothing like it, of course. Impressive observation skills.”

  “It’s nothing. Been up too long.” When had he last enjoyed a decent sleep? He glanced at his datapad, eyes narrowed. Six hours since the first wave of vibrations had struck Jones’ place. Yet his body ached, brain wanted to switch off, and the idea of a decent place to sleep continued to nag at him. He didn’t comment about the observation skills. Whatever the man had been able to do, he wasn’t here now, and if he’d shared the experience with his daughter, it didn’t matter to him. “Exhausted. And I can’t be the only one.”

  “Which is code for, you’re a kid, keep out of it.” She rolled her eyes and snatched up the pad. “Get over yourself, dude. You’re nothing special. One of the lost, like the rest of us. We’ve all been there, running through the darkness and fighting to stay alive.”

  His hands clenched. “Hey, I didn’t say it.” What was going on here? “We’ve all been through shit. No one expected first contact to work this way. We were supposed to be, well, whatever.” He growled, tension building along his spine. Why was he letting this kid get to him? A kid I’d be all over if she were a few years older. But she wasn’t, and he didn’t touch those who were underage. A body with all the right curves was one thing, the mind of an adult, one who knew how to please him, and herself at the same time, that was far more attractive than anything physical.

  “You’re like the rest of them. Nothing but another adult who thinks anyone under twenty-five is a child who needs to be controlled. Kept safe and out of the way. As if we don’t know what’s going on.” She waved the datapad. “We’ve been fine down here. Most of
the survivors are kids, older or younger than I am. We don’t need a guy in an oh so last century trench coat looking down on us. On me. We lost friends, family, witnessed some of them torn out of our grasp. My mom, she was behind me one minute, then gone the next. Tully lost his sister, not even six years old. Who have you lost? What makes you any better than the rest of us? I’ll tell you what. Nothing. You’re one of us, and if you want to make it out of here alive, it’s time you accepted it instead of lording it over the rest of us.”

  “Is that what I’m doing?” He hadn’t, had he? No, she had to be wrong.

  And why did it matter? She was a no one. Another annoying teenager, or however old she was.

  “Yeah, typical adult.” Sarcasm dripped from her words. “Doesn’t even recognize when they’re doing it. But we know, we see it, hear it, deal with it every damn day and--”

  “Are you done?” Stone interrupted. “I mean, I know it’s standard to allow the monologue, but it’s taking time we don’t have.”

  Her cheeks flamed. “Wow, you’re one arrogant bastard, aren’t you?”

  “You expected something else? After all your righteous words?” He tugged on the edges of his trench coat. “There’s a reason why I don’t want kids. Have no desire to hang around with them, or talk about the fashion of the week.”

  “I’m not a kid. Sure, I’m younger than you, doesn’t make me a child. I’m a legal adult, no matter what you believe.” Salla lifted her chin as she spoke. Pride and anger sparked in her eyes, her stance filled with defiance. “Our lives have as much worth as yours, perhaps more as we have more years ahead of you, but you don’t see us saying, hey, we know best.”

  “Because you don’t have the life experiences to make that statement.” Legal age. The knowledge he filed away, he wouldn’t follow up on it except to reevaluate her actions and choices. “See here, ki-- Salla.” He changed his means of address with a smile. “We’re all under stress here, you, me, the Marines. But we’re here, and we’re forced to work together.”

  “Get over yourself, you’re not a Marine.” Her eyes narrowed. “You’re a smuggler, trader, merc, maybe all three. Don’t try and tell me you’re not, I’ve seen you before. Know you have your hands in a dozen different schemes.”

  “Have I seen you before?” Did she appear familiar? Maybe it explained why he’d reacted to her earlier. The eyes, he knew those eyes. He flipped through the mental files he tried to keep in decent order. Eyes, set of the jaw, the defiance and strength, combined with the belief she was as strong as the adults. An image of the supply dump. A teen waiting in the shadows. “Duncan Prescott’s kid?”

  Her lips pressed into a tight, thin line as she folded her arms beneath her breasts. “Duncan’s my father, yes.”

  “Where is he?”

  “He didn’t make it to the shelter.” Her voice stripped of emotion.

  His gaze flicked to the marines, then back to Salla. “I’m sorry.” The words slipped free before he had a chance to prevent it.

  “He’s alive. I’m going to find him.” Her features hardened.

  Stone didn’t turn away. “He wouldn’t want you to risk yourself. He’d want you to remain safe, find a hole to hide up in until these bastards leave Pluto.”

  “You’ve no idea what my father would want, or not. You dealt with him on a business level, not personal. So don’t try and pretend otherwise.”

  The words stung, all the more because they were true. “You really believe he’d want you to risk yourself? Put yourself out there and end up dead or captured? I know your dad enough to understand he’d be happier if you remained safe. I can’t imagine he’d want you to go and find him.” He studied the woman’s face. Not a girl at this moment, but an adult who knew the risks if she attempted to find her father.

  A small shrug. “I know he wouldn’t be impressed if I ran without trying. I’ll check the supply dump first, then--”

  “He wasn’t there.” Stone explained. “I hit the dump on the way here. Assumed Duncan would be hold up with his stash, but when he hadn’t found the man, he’d put his fate to the back of his mind. “Duncan told me about the dump years ago. Made it clear I’d have to pay for anything I took, and shared a guest code with me, so I could get into the dump.” If Duncan couldn’t escape, couldn’t make it to a safe place, then what hope did the rest of them have?

  Her shoulders slumped. “Which means when he was taken by them, he didn’t break free. But it doesn’t mean he’s dead. If anyone could remain alive, it’s my father. And your sergeant said she saw prisoners, didn’t she? And she’s smart, didn’t panic when the Gunny died.”

  How the hell had the girl know that? They were on the other side of the room from Lawbook. It didn’t make sense until realization sank in. “You have bugs scattered. Like father, like daughter. Never came away from a meeting with him without having to sweep for bugs. At least three of them every damned time. Told me he had to keep an edge on his rivals, and an eye on his friends.” He gave her an assessing look. “I’ll keep a close watch on you.” And check himself for bugs. Shit, the girl was quick if she’d already managed to plant a few on him, but she’d had a fantastic teacher. “You didn’t bug your father.”

  “Of course, I did.” She rolled her eyes, taking no pains to hide her disgust. “But they block the signal, they blocked all outgoing communication. They would have swept him if they’re smart. Not that it would matter with the communication dampers in place.” Salla tapped the datapad on her belt. “I did a scan before you lot appeared, and it’s obvious they have dampers in place.”

  More information he could use when the time came. “Anything at all, when you tried to reach him?”

  “Crackles, static at first, then nothing. Went dead. Couldn’t track a location.”

  Could be dead. The crackle caused by an energy burst. “Anything since?”

  “What part of went dead, didn’t you hear? Losing your senses in your old age?” Her lips curled into a sneer.

  “Got a mouth on you.”

  “I’m Duncan’s daughter, you expected anything different? He didn’t keep his snark under control, or his opinions of people he worked with.”

  Not now he knew who had raised her. Damn, what had Duncan said about him? “No, I suppose not.” He took a deep breath, sorting through the information he’d gathered. “I need to talk with the sergeant. She’ll need the information concerning supplies before she decides what to do.”

  “Oh, I know what you’ll try and do. Dump the rest of us, get to your ship, and get out.”

  Had her words carried? He didn’t react, fearing one of the survivors would already be staring at him. “Is that right?”

  “No skin off my nose, as I said, I’m not going anywhere without my Dad.”

  “And if it means dying?” Did the kid not understand the risks involved? “You haven’t seen what it’s like out there, the damage those creatures have done. The majority of the colony’s been flattened.” Except for the buildings in the center of the colony. Those had been intact, another piece of the puzzle, but without a picture to guide him, all he could do was grab the small shreds of information and file them away for another time.

  “Mom’s gone, years back. Dad’s all I have. You think I’m going to walk away if there’s a chance I can help him?” She took a step toward him. “Not going to happen. You can run if you want. You’re a merc, no one expects you to hang around. Goes against the grain, doesn’t it?” Salla didn’t back down. “Go on, run for it. Make a break. No one will care. Mercs aren’t expected to stand by other people unless there’s money in it for them.”

  He bit back a growl. “If you were a man or an adult, I’d--”

  “You’d what? Hit me?” She smiled, lifting her chin a touch more. “Go on, do it. One free punch, it’s all you get.”

  Free shot? He’d expect this from an adult, not from this barely grown kid. A child he’d watched, in a way, grow up. “You think you’d be able to take it? No, never mind. If you beli
eve I’d throw a punch at a kid, without good cause, you’re insane. Which makes sense, considering who raised you. Your dad isn’t exactly leaning on the sane side of the line. Now, you can have your temper tantrum, but don’t involve me. I have enough to deal with.” He shook his head as he turned away. Fighting with kids, as if he’d stoop that low without a damn important reason.

  “Coward. Like every other merc, I’ve had the misfortune to run into.”

  No matter what Salla or anyone else believed, he had his reasons. Kids. There were reasons why he never wanted them and would take the first chance he could to part ways with the group. It didn’t matter if Salla thought him a coward? The girl didn’t know him, had no understanding of the life he lived. Her father might have shared a few stories, but had he mentioned the years he’d spent as a merc? Not with the way she reacted.

  “Lawbook?”

  The dark-haired woman glanced back at him before she ended her conversation with one of the adults. “Is there a problem?”

  He waited until he was close enough to talk in normal tones. “We have a problem.”

  “When don’t we.” A small smile flashed into life only to vanish a moment later. “What this time?”

  “We can’t get everyone to the base. Even if we could, it’s where the invaders will have focused their attack. If there are survivors, they’re in hiding. Odds are any ships on the ground will be hunks of smoldering metal, or under guard.”

  “I know.” Her face smoothed into an emotionless mask.

  “You have a plan?”

  “There’s your--”

  “No, it’s not large enough. We won’t get everyone out. Choices, hard choices need to be made, sergeant. Who goes with us, and who’s left behind.”

  “It’s not going to happen. We all leave, or we all stay.” She folded her arms beneath her breasts.

  God, the woman was stubborn. “You’re not being reasonable about this.” He glanced back at the survivors. “We can’t fit them all in one ship and the longer we stay here, the higher the chance we’ll be found, and we don’t know what they’re doing with prisoners.” Insane, she was nuts if she wanted to stay here. “I’m not going to die with the rest of them. If you want to risk your life, so be it. Not happening with me.”