by J. N. Chaney
“We made it! We’re alive,” he said.
My brain immediately kicked into action. We were on an unknown alien planet, only halfway through the journey to Kronos Five. We had no idea of knowing if the planet we were on had any water resources, let alone breathable air.
“There’s a holo pad here somewhere,” I said, releasing myself from my straps and digging into the supplies every escape pod was equipped with. “I remember from the training videos we had to watch.”
“You actually watched those?” Ricky asked, also unclipping himself and reaching for his groin. “Oh man. I feel like my balls were sucked into my stomach, we landed so hard. There goes the idea of ever having kids.”
I ignored Ricky for the time being, looking into the side compartment between my seat and the right side of our escape pod. Sure enough, a holo pad came away in my hands from a section of the seat.
I opened the display, searching the strange menu. I clicked on the tab that said “environment” and read the data as it appeared in front of me.
Location: Unknown
Temperature: 75 degrees Fahrenheit
Air Breathability: Positive.
Fresh water sources: Detected.
Life forms: Detected.
I hunched back into my seat, grateful after reading the display. Ricky followed along with the readout as well.
“Life forms are the other survivors from—from the ship, right?” Ricky laughed nervously. “I mean, we’re not talking about aliens, right?”
“I’m sure it's just the other survivors,” I said, waving away the idea. “As far as anyone knows, we’re alone in the universe. No intelligent life, unless the government has been hiding something like in those old conspiracy holos.”
“Right, right, of course,” Ricky said, trying to convince himself that was the case. “I’m sure that’s true.”
I grabbed the holo pad again, searching for the option to communicate with either the Orion or the other escape crafts in the area.
“I really wished I would have watched those training videos now,” Ricky said, looking at me helplessly.
“It’s all right. We’ll figure it out,” I said, maneuvering around the options menu. My eyes landed on a button labeled “communication.” I tapped it, opening a screen that showed another button with the word “talk” on it. I pressed it down. “Hello, can anyone hear me out there?”
I released the button and waited for a response.
“Hello, hello, can you hear us? This is—” a voice I didn’t recognize answered. “Oh god, what is that? What is that? Some kind of mist. Help us—”
Ricky looked up at me, horrified. Static cut through our transmission. I pressed down the button again.
“Say again, say again,” I said, swallowing hard. “Do you read me?”
Static.
“There has to be thousands of escape pods out there. Why don’t we hear any others?” Ricky asked.
“Maybe it’s only meant for short-wave transmission? Maybe our antenna was damaged in the landing? I’m not sure,” I responded. “But we’re not going to figure it out in here.”
“Did you hear those people on the other end before it went all static?” Ricky looked at me shaking his head. “No thank you. They were terrified. Something was coming for them. I’m not going out there.”
“Well, there’s not exactly a future for us in here,” I said, maneuvering around my seat and beginning to take stock of our surroundings. “We’ve got to find others. We have to see if the Orion is salvageable.”
“Salvageable,” Ricky said, shaking his head. “You saw what happened, right? The ship completely broke apart. There’s no way it survived. “We’re stuck. We’re stranded here. Wherever here is.”
I was getting annoyed. I knew all of this as well as Ricky, but what was I supposed to do? Roll over and die? That wasn’t me. I was a lot of things, but I sure as hell didn’t give up.
“You can stay here if you want,” I said, finding a black backpack on the opposite side of my seat. “But I’m going out there.”
“Dean, it’s over, man,” Ricky said, staring out the right window. “We’re dead. We’re never getting back. We’re never going to be found. We’re—”
“Stop it,” I said, reaching across the narrow space between us and grabbing his collar. My anger took over. I stared my friend in the face, trying to put words to my feelings. “Maybe it is over. Maybe we’ll all die here, but I’m not going to die without a fight. It’s not who I am. It’s not who you are. We’ll find a way to survive. We have to.”
I realized what I was doing and pulled myself back, trying to contain my frustration. I released Ricky’s bunched-up collar and fell back into my seat.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m sorry, Ricky. You didn’t deserve that. You’ve been nothing but a friend to me.”
“It’s okay, man,” he said. His eyes never left the window to his right. “Hey, is it just me or is that another escape pod?”
I turned to follow his gaze. With his right pointer finger, he directed me to what looked like a sloping grass hill less than a hundred meters to our right. A white sphere like ours had landed on the slope. The hatches were closed. Whoever was in there, they must still be inside.
“Ricky, you got to listen to me,” I said, trying a different approach. “Maybe it’s like you said, and there’s no getting off here. Maybe we’re all dead anyway. But I’d rather spend the last breath in my lungs trying to live, rather than roll over and die. We’re survivors, both of us. Tell me I’m wrong.”
Ricky slowly nodded, then turned to look at me. The glazed expression of shock was gone from his eyes. “You should have been a coach or a motivational speaker or something,” Ricky managed to say with a smile. “Okay, fine. Let's grab whatever we can and take a look outside. What’s the worst that could happen? We die from a wild animal alien attack?”
“Atta boy,” I said, pointing to the spot on his left. “There should be a backpack of water and food by your seat. I think there are flashlights and a knife under it too.”
We spent the next few minutes taking stock of our supplies and preparing to leave the somewhat safety of our escape pod. Along with two bottles of water, there was a pack of energy bars, a knife, a flashlight, a blanket, a med kit, and a fire starter.
Ricky carried the same thing, minus the med kit.
“Whatever’s out there, we’ll figure this out,” I told Ricky, trying to give him the pep talk I needed now. Telling him the truth, that I was as scared as he was, wasn’t the right thing to do.
“Let’s do it,” Ricky said.
I leaned on the long lever that released the same hatch we used to climb into our escape pod. It opened with a popping noise. The first thing I realized as I stuck my head out of our escape pod was that whatever this planet was, it wasn’t that different from Earth.
There were dark green grassy fields and thick, almost black tree trunks, showing off vibrant forms of leaves. The smell of smoke was in the air. I coughed for a second, then hopped out of the escape pod, letting Ricky do the same.
The twin suns loomed overhead, bringing a warmth to my face. There was an ever so slight breeze gently blowing. If we weren’t on an alien planet, this place might even seem nice.
“Ummm, Dean?” Ricky said, grabbing my attention.
24
A thin line of smoke rose from the other downed escape pod. Instead of landing on oversized airbags like ours, it had struck the ground like a meteor.
As we got closer, the escape pod wasn’t just smoking, it was cracked in multiple places. The sphere wasn’t meant to take a fall like that without its boosters or landing bags to soften its touchdown.
Orange and red flames licked inside of it. The ground all around was cratered from the impact.
Despite my gut churning, I looked inside the window. A single person escape pod like ours, only smaller, revealed a poor soul strapped to their seat, the fire having eaten away much of their body. The scent o
f burned hair and flesh was overwhelming, and I looked away quickly.
“Ricky, I’m not sure you want to do that,” I said as Ricky leaned in to look through the window.
He turned back a moment later, throwing up on the ground next to him. He fell down on hands and knees, vomiting everything his body contained.
I set my jaw, wondering how many more pods had failed to land properly and why. Was it a mechanical failure? Had a Disciple tampered with some of the pods?
All these answers would have to wait.
Ricky was gathering himself, and I decided to take the time to survey our surroundings. We were in a grass field with trees all around, making it hard to see anything out in the distance. The only thing I could see through the trees was a mountain range to the east and the twin suns overhead.
I realized that there was no sound. No white noise of other people living, talking, or moving around. There were no birds or animal sounds either. There was only stillness and the sounds of Ricky spitting the last of his breakfast burrito into the dirt.
“You think, you think they went fast?” Ricky asked, pushing himself to his feet and joining me. “I mean, the person in the pod. Do you think they died quickly?”
“I sure hope so,” I said. “The landing probably would have killed them instantly before the fire broke out.”
“Right, right,” Ricky said, nodding along with my theory. “They were already dead when the fire started. So what now?”
“We can’t really see much down here in the trees,” I said, once again looking east. “There’s a mountain range over there, but I don’t think we need to go that far. Maybe we can find some high ground, even a tree to climb up and see where we’re going. We need to find other survivors.”
“Right, we can’t be the only ones…” Ricky’s voice trailed off as if it were a question. “Can we?”
“No way,” I said, shrugging against the straps of my pack. “I saw dozens of ships getting away before and during our escape. They’re out here; we just have to find them.”
“Right,” Ricky said, building up his courage. “I could really use a drink or twenty right now. Maybe a game of dice to relax.”
“You and me both, brother,” I said as we headed east, back toward our downed escape pod and the tree line beyond. After I spoke, I remembered all of Ricky’s promises to every deity he could think of about stopping his gambling ways. “Wait a minute. Didn’t you swear to give up gambling if we landed safely?”
“What?” Ricky looked at me like I was crazy. “I don’t remember that at all.”
“Yeah, that was you,” I said.
“Well, I can’t be held accountable for whatever I did or didn’t say when I thought I was going to die,” Ricky said, then shrugged. “That would never hold up in a court of law.”
The dark green grass crunched under my boots just like the grass on Earth. The only noticeable difference was the color, so dark it was almost black.
I took a better look at the trees as we passed our pod and entered the forest area. The trunks were much wider than anything I had seen on Earth. The bark was also a deep dark brown, and the leaves were vibrant, nearly neon green.
It was like they gave a kid a set of crayons and told him or her to go to town on the landscape.
“Is it weird that we don’t hear anything?” Ricky asked.
He had his knife out in his right hand. He held it close to his body as if he were ready to strike out at any moment.
“If you accidentally stab me with that thing, I’m going to be pissed,” I said, fighting the urge to unsheathe my own knife, which sat in a carrier on the right side of my hip. I held the holo pad in my hands instead, hoping to pick up a signal from someone. “And yeah. It is weird. There are no animals, insects, or anything.”
We traveled through the dense forest, always listening for movement, but there was still nothing. We went on the same even ground, looking for a place where we could get a better view of the landscape. I was beginning to think we should abandon the search for a decent vantage point and just try to climb one of the trees, when we heard movement in the forest in front of us.
Ricky and I both slammed ourselves against the closest tree on our right. The wide trunk offered more than enough room for us to conceal ourselves. I grabbed the handle of my knife, sliding it free from its sheath.
The sounds grew closer.
I kneeled low and looked around the base of the trunk Ricky and I were using for cover. I felt hot as a line of sweat crossed my brow. It was difficult to see through the massive line of trees, and I relied on my sense of hearing to point my eyes in the right direction.
“I don’t—I don’t see anything,” Ricky whispered. “Can you?”
“Not yet,” I answered.
The sound came closer; someone walking on the grass in the forest. I caught movement. Something white. Whatever it was crossed our hiding space thirty yards to my left.
It was hard to tell for sure, but it had to be someone from our ship. Nothing else existed on alien planets. At least that was what I was telling myself.
“What if it’s an alien?” Ricky whispered in my ear. “Remember the transmission we received?”
“No such thing as aliens,” I said. “I think it’s another survivor.”
I decided to take a chance.
“Hello?” I called out into the distance. “Hello, can you hear me?”
The steady noise of plodding stopped. Once again, the entire forest was quiet.
The noise came again, but this time, it was the sound of running. Not just running, but the clear sound of galloping as something raced toward us. I was wrong. This wasn’t a person at all.
I rose to my feet as a surge of adrenaline quickened my heart rate. I clenched my knife tightly in my hand, preparing to see something crazy burst from between the trees.
“I knew aliens were real!” Ricky exclaimed, gritting his teeth.
A whitish-grey creature sprinted from the forest. I had just enough time to register what I was seeing before it was on top of us. It was the same massive dog that I had seen in the cargo hold during my first run-in with the assassin Disciple known as Maksim.
It headed right for me, nearly grinning as its pink tongue lolled out the side of its mouth. I lowered my knife as it skidded to a stop in front of me. It sniffed at my pants, wagging its tail like a maniac, then went over to Ricky to do the same.
“What the hell?” Ricky asked as he sheathed his knife and went down to a knee to pet the mutt. “Is this one of the animals you said was in the cargo hold?”
“That’s right,” I said as my heart transitioned back to beating normally once more. “He must have survived the crash somehow, or maybe someone let them out.”
“Doesn’t look like he escaped unscathed,” Ricky said, eyeing blood splatter on the left side of the dog’s face. “He doesn’t seem to be limping, so that’s good.”
The dog whined again and nuzzled Ricky, then came over to me and sat down at my feet.
“I think you have an admirer.” Ricky grinned. “Maybe he remembers you from when you got beat up in the cargo hold.”
“Maybe,” I said, reaching a hand down to ruffle the dog’s soft, pointed ears.
He looked up at me with a stupid grin.
“Man, I thought for sure we were about to see something wild,” Ricky said, shaking his head. “Like a mutated alien beast that was going to suck out our brains, or some kind of skeletal insect creature that was going to pump us full of bile.”
“That’s disgusting,” I said.
“I have a disturbing imagination,” Ricky said with a sigh. “It’s my burden to bear in this life.”
“What do you think about climbing a tree?” I asked. “I don’t see the terrain opening up any time soon. I think with a boost, I can grab one of these lower branches and pull myself up.”
“Worth a shot.” Ricky shrugged. He laced his fingers together and squatted down to give me a lift.
I shru
gged off my pack and placed my right foot in his hands. With a heave, Ricky lifted me up, and I was able to grab a lower hanging branch on the tree in front of us.
The mutt barked once as if he were worried for me and telling me not to fall. The tree’s bark felt like any other tree I had ever climbed as a kid, rough but firm under my hands.
I pulled myself up, choosing branches that were sturdy and only placing my full weight on them once they were tested. As I went up higher, I started noticing dark purple fruit that reminded me of avocados. I had no idea if they were edible, and I sure wasn’t going to try them.
I ignored the allure of a possible food source for the time being and continued upward.
The tree was taller than I had first guessed, but after a few minutes of climbing, I poked my head out of the top of the canopy. What I saw took my breath away. It filled me with both hope and dread.
25
My mouth went dry. I surveyed the landscape. To the north, there was smoke. If I squinted hard, I could make out some kind of dome rising from the ground—the Orion.
To the east, a red rock mountain range stood against the horizon—the same cliffs I had seen as we fell to the planet’s surface. To the west, I spied a large body of water, blue as the sky.
Glancing to the south, I blinked my eyes a few times rapidly. I shaded my vision as I leaned forward to get a better look. The forested area continued for about a kilometer before the landscape began to change into a swamp. A wall of mist prevented me from seeing any further.
The mist. The transmission we picked up before we lost contact was talking about a mist. I studied it longer, straining to see anything beyond the wall. There was nothing but the white, rolling waves of the mist as it ebbed and flowed like an ocean.
“Hey, hey, what do you see up there?” Ricky said in a loud whisper. “What’s going on?”
I turned back to the Orion one more time, making sure I had the bearing correct. I was horrible at measuring great distances, but it looked like we could make it in a day if we traveled hard.