by Joshua James
“Open fire!” ordered Saito. He and Sousa both emptied their clips into the risen corpse. Neither of their bullets had any effect.
The risen corpse stabbed Bucky in the belly with the same blade used to sever Rollins’ hand. More blades expanded out of that one, shooting out of the now dead Marine’s shoulders, collar, back, neck, and stomach. Before falling to the ground, he looked like a steel porcupine.
“Everyone fall back!” ordered Saito as he reloaded. There was no time to think about or analyze what had just happened. His only priority at that point was to get out of there with the remains of the group.
Sousa yanked Rollins close to him and spun to leave. “Move!” he screamed, trying to cajole Rollins to move faster. He was still in shock. Saito grabbed the woman and kept firing on the creature as they ran backwards. It followed after, but not quickly.
“What the hell was that?” yelled Sousa as they ran back towards the door to engineering.
“No idea,” answered Saito, wondering if he was in shock too for bothering to answer him.
“It’s them! I tried to tell you!” yelled the terrified woman.
Saito stopped and took Rollins from Sousa by the good arm. The other ended at a stump just above the wrist, which bled profusely. The captain knew that if it went untreated, his second-in-command would bleed out.
In his own shock, Sousa almost didn’t notice. “Sir! Why are you stopping?” he asked, after he’d run a good dozen feet before realizing that Saito and Rollins had stopped in the middle of the engineering corridor. The terrified woman didn’t slow.
“I need to stop the bleeding. Go, Lieutenant! Get help!” Saito pointed in the direction of main engineering, where the woman had run to. Sousa nodded and turned.
Saito searched his uniform’s pockets for the med kit, then pulled out an insta-patch. Shaped like a regular gauze pad, the patch instantly suctioned onto Rollins’s wound when Saito applied pressure to it. A band inside tightened about an inch down from the edge of the bloody stump, staunching the flow of blood.
“You’re okay, Rollins,” Saito said, trying to will the words to be true. Rollins, pale and barely conscious, nodded. Saito braced Rollins’s weight; he was big, but he wasn’t getting any younger. He grunted with the effort. Rollins was no lightweight.
As they reached the entrance to the engineering level, Sousa was waiting. That wasn’t a surprise, but Chief Engineer Liu next to him was. And what she was doing surprised Saito even more.
One of Liu’s arms was unnaturally outstretched, so long that her skin broke open, and a bone and metal arm kept stretching out from it. Her arm ended at a point that was pinning something against the wall.
Saito sucked in his breath as he realized it was the lifeless body of the terrified woman. Her legs dangled several feet off the grated floor.
“Saito?” asked Molly as the arm retracted and the woman’s dead body fell.
“Liu?” Saito didn’t know what to do with what he was seeing.
“What’s wrong?” Molly asked. It was as if her mind wasn’t aware of what her arm had just done.
The arm shifted. There was a sick wet crunching and popping noise as her bones reformed back to a human shape; muscle spun around and clung to it. Then new skin crawled over it to create something that was indistinguishable from human.
“Nothing.” Saito inched his way to the exit. “Nothing at all, Chief.”
Sousa had beaten him to it, and was standing on the other side of the open doorway, silently urging him to hurry up.
“I’m not sure what went wrong with the engines, but I assure you sir, we’re working o-o-o-o-on a fi-fi-fi-fi-fix.” Molly struggled to get the words out. She tried to smile, but came off much more creepy than friendly.
Stay calm. Act like nothing is wrong. Nothing is wrong at all. Saito helped Rollins through the doorway before doing so himself. “Just keep me informed, Chief. I trust that you’ll get it done.”
Molly saluted Saito through the porthole of the now-closed door to the engineering level. “Sir, yes sir. Right away, sir.”
“Atlas, put a lock on the door to the engineering level. Restrict access to myself only, using my credentials,” Saito ordered the Atlas’ operating system.
“What. The. Hell?” Sousa choked out.
“That was a zombie,” Rollins said groggily.
“He’s in shock,” Saito said.
“I must be too,” Sousa said, “because that’s what they looked like to me.”
“Did you see what was happening with Liu?”
“Yes. I mean, no. I mean, yes, but I don’t understand what’s going on,” Sousa hissed in confusion. “If they aren’t zombies, then what the hell was that?”
“Whatever they were, they’re dangerous and seem to mean us harm. So we need to figure out how to harm them first.” Dozens of possibilities ran through Saito’s mind, but none of them really made sense. Could the AIC have new biological weapons? The rebels already did a lot of work with gene editing and biohacking, but would they go so far as to create creatures like what they’d just encountered?
There wasn’t time for Saito, Rollins, or Sousa to contemplate or debate what they’d just encountered in engineering. The Atlas shook hard for a few seconds; then there was a loud banging noise. Saito knew exactly what that sound was. They were in the process of being boarded.
“Lieutenant, take the commander to the med bay,” ordered Saito. “I’ve got to get to the bridge.”
Twenty-Two
Ada
“Marines! Regroup on me!” yelled Sgt. Amir Ali. He was the highest-ranking Marine left in the Atlas’ docking bay.
Ada Ericsson joined the group of seven Marines that had survived the initial attack and the torpedo to the docking bay. Still in shock, her body ran completely on autopilot.
“Jesus, is this it?” asked Ali. “Okay, we’ll make do. Orders are to join the rest of the crew near the mess hall, so arm yourselves and regroup on me in exactly two minutes. Understood?”
“Yes, Sergeant!” yelled the surviving Marines in unison. All but Ada, who simply stared forward blindly, wondering how she got there and how she’d survived.
The Marines scattered, seemingly ignoring the fact that hundreds of their fellow crewmembers had just died via getting sucked out into space. Perhaps it was the fact their corpses were out of sight that made it easier, but Ada still saw the streaks of blood on the floor that ended abruptly at the emergency door that resealed the room.
She looked up to find the sergeant barking in her face. “Arm yourself, Private! This fight isn’t over.”
Ada snapped herself out of it and began searching the docking bay. There wasn’t much left that wasn’t bolted down, so she decided to go back to the Marine HQ and see if she could grab a rifle or pistol from there.
All the windows in the HQ were blown out. The bodies of those who died in the initial attack after the fold jump were stuck in or by the blown-out windows, stacked on top of each other.
Ada covered her mouth and nose and entered the Marine HQ. It took everything she had not to freak out from not only the smell of death, but from seeing so many corpses. Before this day, she’d never ever seen one.
You’re not here, you’re back home. You’re back at your family’s cabin. You’re back with your boyfriend. You’re anywhere but here, searching through piles of dead bodies for a rifle or a pistol that you’ll hopefully never have to use.
Ada searched the dead for weapons. Under one poor soul she found a pistol and a couple of clips of ammunition. She figured that was enough; she didn’t need a rifle. They were in space, after all, not dropping down on an AIC planet. Why would she need—
Ada heard the unmistakable crack of gunshots outside in the docking bay. After a volley of fire, there was some yelling, screaming, more shots; then silence.
Scared and cautious, Ada peeked through the corpses piled up against the Marine HQ’s blown-out windows. A group of ten or so AIC soldiers walked around the docking
bay, checking for and killing any survivors. She knew they were AIC by their black uniforms, and the helmets that fully encased their heads.
They boarded us? Already? You need to hide. But the only place to…damn it, just do it.
Ada didn’t like it, but she knew there was only one hiding place. It would smell and be gross, but both were better than taking a super-heated bullet to the head.
Ada lay down on the pile of dead Marines in the HQ. Then she pulled a couple on top of her in the hope that she’d just blend in. All that was left to do was wait: wait and hold her breath.
The AIC soldiers methodically made their way around the docking bay. Finally one of them made their way over to the Marine HQ. They shone the light on the edge of their rifle through the windows.
Ada’s heart beat a mile a minute as the AIC soldier shone his light right over her. Unable to fully hold her breath, she took extremely slow shallow ones, keeping her undetectable.
Or so she thought.
The AIC soldier spoke into his radio, asking for one of his colleagues to come over. His voice sounded almost like electrical static. It was the strangest thing Ada had ever heard.
What language is that? Some outer edge dialect?
Ada didn’t have much time to contemplate the language the AIC soldier was using, because the initial soldier was joined by another, and together they decided to examine the HQ further. She stopped breathing and closed her eyes.
Never a religious woman, Ada silently prayed to whichever god would listen to deliver her safe and sound from her current predicament. The AIC soldiers got close. Her heart almost jumped out of her chest when one of them poked a dead Marine on top of her with his rifle.
Ada couldn’t help it; her eyes opened wide in sheer terror. That’s when she noticed that, across the room, also buried under dead bodies, a shape was moving. It looked like a soldier just waking up. He must’ve been knocked unconscious by the initial attack.
As he stirred, one of the bodies lying next to him flopped over, falling loudly to the ground.
One of the AIC soldiers, who had been walking away, stopped and turned.
Twenty-Three
Ada
Ada knew she had one chance, or she was dead. She jerked her head around quickly enough that the man would see her, but moments before the soldier was back in the room.
The man turned to look at her, confusion and growing terror on his face as what was all around him was becoming clear. Ada held his gaze with her own.
Okay, good. Now look at me, keep looking at me.
Carefully, she shook her head back and forth, not moving the body on top of her. She also used one hand, stuck it out straight and flat, motioned downwards in an attempt to tell him to stay down.
The man froze.
A moment later, the AIC soldier appeared right in the line of vision between the two of them. He leaned down and poked the body that had fallen. Satisfied, he stood, turned, and ambled out to join the others.
The AIC soldiers moved on from the Marine HQ, allowing Ada to let out a huge sigh of relief. With the coast almost clear, she just waited until she heard them leave the docking bay.
Ada scrambled out from under and on top of the pile of dead Marines. She gasped, desperate to refill her lungs, which she’d deprived of the proper amount of air for the last five to ten minutes.
The other Marine did the same. He crawled out from under his own dead-comrade pile-up and then got up and sat in one of the chairs.
“What in the—” The Marine was getting ready to ask what was going on when Ada shushed him.
Ada climbed out of the Marine HQ just enough to look out into the docking bay. There wasn’t an AIC soldier in sight. It was finally safe, at least in that small portion of the Atlas.
“Your name?” asked Ada as she returned to the surviving Marine.
“Angel,” he said. “Private Angel Baez. Who are you? Why are all these people dead? What the hell is happening here?” Having just woken up, Baez had no idea what was going on. Like Ada, he’d been knocked unconscious by the initial attack after the fold jump.
“My name is Private Ada Ericsson, and we’re under attack.”
“Under attack? By who?”
“The AIC.”
Baez took a second to process the news. He ran his hand across the top of his standard-issue Marine crew cut. “Damn…how bad is it?”
Ada raised one eyebrow and waved her arms around the room. “What do you think?”
“And that was them, out there?”
“Who else would they be?”
“Damn. Okay, so, we gotta get outta here, right? Join the fight or whatever.”
We need to run, hide, and figure out a way off this ship. Otherwise we aren’t ever getting home. She swallowed that down. “We do. First we have to get out of the docking bay. Come on.”
“Right on, boss lady. I’m gonna follow you.”
Ada climbed out of the Marine HQ and into the docking bay proper, with Baez right behind her. She wanted to ignore the dead Marines laid out on the floor, but they needed their weapons. She tried her best not to disturb the bodies.
Armed with rifles and pistols, they reached the bulkhead door that served as the main entrance to the docking bay. Ada glanced at Angel, then held her breath as she pressed the button on the panel next to it.
As soon as the doors opened, Ada heard the sounds of fighting echoing through the halls and corridors of the Atlas. This was no time or place for fear, although Ada felt it bubbling up inside her. She tried to keep it off her face as she glanced at Baez. Both of them had to be ready to fight for their very lives.
If Baez looked closely, he’d notice the rifle in her hands trembling slightly. He’d notice the sweat accumulating on her forehead. He’d hear her labored, nervous breathing. But she hid it well as the two of them used their training to slowly make their way down the hall, checking their corners and keeping each other covered.
This is what all that training was for, I guess.
Ada was surprised at how disciplined she suddenly became as she and Baez slowly traversed the halls of the Atlas, looking for any other members of the crew to join. As frightened as she’d been of fighting before the ship launched from Annapolis, she was purposefully, by choice, heading straight for the sounds of it.
Ada motioned with her hand for Baez to stop. The two of them hugged a wall around the corner from the corridor that led to the Atlas’ mess hall. She looked around the corner and saw a full-blown skirmish just outside the cafeteria entrance.
Those are our men. We finally found someone.
Ada motioned for Baez to come with her so they could join the fight alongside other UEF soldiers.
The soldiers spun around, raising their weapons as they did so.
“Whoa!” Baez said, stopping in his tracks and putting his arms up.
“We’re with you,” Ada added, doing the same. Then she recognized one of the men holding a pistol. She could hardly call herself a crewmember if she didn’t. “Captain Saito?” she asked incredulously.
“We don’t know if you’re with us or not,” Saito said. He sounded rattled; nothing like the strong voice she’d heard earlier over the ship comms.
“Sir?” Ada asked, not sure what to say. Why wouldn’t I be with you?
Then the group spun around again, all but Saito, as several more soldiers came up behind them. They began firing on them. Ada assumed they were AIC soldiers, coming out of the section of the mess hall’s hull that they’d cut open for boarding.
“What do you…of course we’re on your side,” she said again.
“So you say. Prove it. Tell me something only a person, a human being would know,” demanded Saito. His stare was icy and serious. His finger was on the trigger of his pistol.
Something only a human being would know? What a weird question. Shouldn’t our priority be fighting those AIC bastards?
“Sir, have you lost your mind? Of course we’re people! What the hell else would
we be?” Baez’ hands kept shifting position on his rifle. He was getting ready to raise it again.
Saito didn’t waver. “You have five seconds, soldier, before I put you down.”
Baez was beside himself. “Great! Our captain has lost his mind!”
“The last meal I ate before I was deployed was with my parents in Annapolis!” Ada spouted out the first thing that came to her mind. “We’re from Sweden and we never ate Southern barbecue. So we decided that would be our last meal before I left.” Ada shook her head. “I had pulled pork on a bun. Coleslaw, collard greens, cornbread. The whole thing.”
Ada stopped to catch her breath, feeling incredibly stupid. It was the only think she could think of to say.
“Where?” asked Saito. “Where did you get this barbecue?”
This is a ridiculous conversation. “Ralph’s on one hundred and thirty-fourth, on level twenty-two.”
Saito lowered his pistol. “They do make one hell of a pulled pork sandwich.” He spun around and started firing along with the others.
Baez looked at Ada and shook his head incredulously. Ada was as stupefied as he was, but she just shrugged and joined the line of crewmembers firing on the approaching AIC soldiers. Baez reluctantly did the same, but he stayed on the opposite side of the group from Saito. Ada did, too.
Ada immediately noticed how terrible the AIC soldiers’ aim was. They couldn’t hit a thing. It was as if they’d never fired a gun before. Even she’d done better the first time she went to the range in boot camp.
For the first time in her life, Ada fired a weapon at another person with the intent of killing them. When she let loose that first shot, she felt a little queasy, but that was replaced with shock when the AIC soldier she hit didn’t go down. He just kept coming as if nothing happened.
“We haven’t figured out how to kill them,” Saito said, as if this was a perfectly normal thing to say in the middle of a firefight. “We can only slow them down. Aim for the legs.”
Baez glanced at Ada between shots. “Did he just say—”