Blood Thirsty (Tri System's Edge Series Book 2) Page 13

  A moment later, cool air rushed into the room as the pressure dispersed. Dal peered out the entrance into the early morning darkness, hoping he’d be able to make it to the ship with Murphy on his back. He’d worry about what came next once they were there.

  “Well, whatcha waiting for?” Murphy asked.

  “Yeah, sorry, just thinkin’ fer a sec.”

  Murphy tightened his grip around Dal’s neck and said, “You done thinkin’, then?”

  “Yeah, I’m good.” Dal took his first steps, and walked down the outer ramp of the ship. But when he reached the ground, he’d already concluded that the extra weight was going to make for a slow journey. “Sure you can’t walk at all? Not even a little?” he asked, hoping the effects of the chloromex had begun to fade some.

  Murphy tried to put more of his weight on his legs, but only managed to jerk Dal backwards when they gave out. “Sorry,” he said. “Maybe I took too much.”

  Dal took a deep breath and moved as fast as he could with the added weight. It took less than a minute for him to realize how stupid this situation was, and he began to regret having even found Murphy’s ship in the first place.

  A few minutes later, he was huffing and puffing, struggling with the load on his back, and wishing he’d thought things through a little more. Had he taken them to an exit on the other side of the battleship, they could have used a ground transport. He’d just figured Murphy would be walking alongside him, not hanging onto his neck.

  “How ya doin’?” asked Murphy.

  With a muffled groan, Dal said, “Fine. Just let me focus.”

  “You don’t seem fine. Ya seem kinda tired. We gonna make it before it’s light out?”

  Dal was already annoyed by the situation, and Murphy talking to him didn’t help. “Jus’ hush,” he blurted out.

  ~

  Henry sat on his bed, now wide awake, trying to process what had just happened. His own nephew had pulled a gun on him, and he struggled to understand why the boy he’d raised would ever feel the need to threaten him. A part of him was deeply hurt, and Henry even wondered if some time in lockup might be necessary. But Dal was his family.

  As he pondered things, Henry decided to let it go for now. He believed deep down that if his nephew was willing to go to such great lengths to get what he wanted, it had to be important. Besides the fact that he knew Dal to be a good man, he also knew Dal had changed ever since he’d lost Tuck. War does change a man, he thought.

  He let that idea sink in for a moment, then lay back down in bed and did his best to push the hurt feelings aside. “We’ll see how this plays out,” he said softly.

  It was still very early in the morning, and he was tired, worn out from the work of the previous day. He knew he needed his rest if he was to be worth anything come morning, so he closed his eyes until sleep overtook him once more.

  ~

  What should have taken them no more than thirty minutes had taken nearly two hours, and Dal was quite relieved when Murphy let go of his shoulders and slid to the ground in front of the ship.

  “This?” he blurted out. “You expect me to get us to Paradise in this little thing?”

  “Sounds like the medicine’s worn off a bit,” Dal replied. “So what’s wrong with it? It’s a spaceship, ain’t it?”

  The ship in front of them was a small combat jet, designed for short range defense of much larger ships where it could dock when traveling long distance. It had a short nose where the cockpit was located, and could only carry two passengers. The wings extended straight out from the sides of the fuselage, then made a V shape back toward the tail, where the engine and thrusters were housed.

  “It’s not a cruiser though, it’s a fighter jet. It’d be a pretty cramped ride, for starters, and that’s if we can even make it as far as we need to go,” Murphy answered. “I’m really not sure this will work. Paradise is just too far,” he said, shaking his head.

  “But why not? It flies in space, don’t it?” Dal argued.

  “Well, yeah, it’ll fly in space, but it’s meant for short-range stuff.”

  “So ya sayin’ it ain’t gonna work, then?” Dal wasn’t familiar enough with space travel to understand why this ship was a poor choice. All he knew was that it was their only option, aside from taking one of the large battleships, which was simply out of the question. Since the general had left, all the ships had been taken over by the Esarians, and were being used for housing, medical care, and various other needs of the people.

  Murphy shook his head. “I just don’t think it’ll work.”

  “This is it, man. If it ain’t gonna work, we’re stuck here.” Dal said as he ran his hand through his hair, watching Murphy in suspense, hoping this wasn’t a dead end.

  After several minutes of silence, and a mixture of serious facial expressions, Murphy finally said, “Yeah, maybe we can make it work.”

  Dal smiled, relieved that his plan to find Kalla was still viable. “So whatta we need ta do, then?”

  “Well, as long as the power core is good, I guess it’s just a matter of getting her in the air, and dealing with a long, cramped ride to Paradise.”

  “I think she’s in good workin’ order. Overheard some soldiers talkin’ ’bout taking her up for a test run not long ago. The one guy said he’d done some rebuildin’ on it.”

  Murphy glared at Dal. “Wait, it’s been rebuilt, but hasn’t been tested yet?” he asked.

  “Don’t worry ’bout it. I trust ’em. Good guys.”

  Murphy squeezed his eyes shut and shook off a big yawn. “Alright,” he said. “I guess let’s try it.”

  Dal reached his hand out and helped Murphy to his feet, and with a little stumbling, ushered him to the ladder that extended down from the cockpit.

  Murphy grabbed hold and made his way up the ladder. When he reached the top, he paused and looked down at Dal. “I better not die in this thing,” he said with a scowl.

  “Hey, you shoulda already died once. Livin’ on borrowed time anyway,” Dal shot back with a big grin.

  C

  HAPTER 14

  The captain sat in his chair on the bridge and looked out the large viewport, staring into the darkness of space. His mind was as empty and dark as the scene in front of him, and he felt helpless to do anything about it. Shortly before reaching this utter feeling of inadequacy, it had occurred to him that he and the small crew on the bridge were quite possibly the only living souls left on the ship, aside from whatever creatures were still loose aboard the vessel. And if that were true, it was up to him to figure out what to do once they reached Svati Prime. The planet was still several hours away, but that didn’t seem to make him feel any better.

  “Are the comms still down? Is there any change?” he asked, finally breaking a long silence on the bridge that he’d unintentionally created.

  “No change, sir,” came the quick, short reply.

  The captain nodded and said thank you, then returned to his thoughts. He’d never had to deal with anything quite like this before, and for the first time since he’d held this position under General Quinn, the captain had no idea what to do next.

  When he’d followed through with the general’s orders to chart a course toward Vespe-Keda, he wasn’t making decisions. But the moment he’d made the hard call to change course, he’d stepped into uncharted territory. For the first time in his career as captain, he was learning what it truly meant to be in charge, and he wasn’t particularly fond of it.

  Now, with most of the crew likely dead, General Quinn included, the weight of saving the remaining crew on the bridge rested on his shoulders, and his choices were few. Either they could land the ship and risk unleashing monsters on the planet, or they would need to make their way to the escape pods, located onboard the vessel but outside the safety of the secure bridge. What a bad design, the captain thought.

  Since there had been no word from anyone outside the bridge for some time now, he had to assume the worst. And if there were more creatur
es on the ship, like the one that had attacked the general, the simple act of getting to the escape pods might not be so easy. They could be risking their lives the moment the blast doors opened.

  He put his head in his hands, overwhelmed and frustrated by his predicament. “Let me know when we’ve reached orbit,” he said. Then, after taking several long, deep breaths, he stood up from his chair and walked toward the locked blast doors.

  No one had touched the dead creature on the floor, and the smell was beginning to get worse. The captain held his breath as he approached it. How many more are out there? he wondered, knowing full well that he and his crew members couldn’t stay on the bridge indefinitely.

  In need of air, he exhaled and took in a deep breath. A combination of the rancid smell and the inevitability of his predicament brought on a sudden wave of nausea, and he nearly vomited. He waited for the feeling to subside, then turned his attention to the keypad that would open the door, struggling to accept the decision he’d already made. He was going to get his crew to the escape pods.

  “Sir?” one of the crew called out. “What are you doing?”

  Ignoring the question, the captain made his way to the armory cabinet. He pulled the cabinet doors open and began looking over the contents inside, searching for a weapon he’d be most comfortable with. After some deliberation in his head, the captain reached in and lifted an assault rifle from the rack, and held it in firing position. He admired its craftsmanship—the smooth metal stock that fit snug against his shoulder, the molded pistol grip that fit so naturally in his hand, and the tactical laser sight that, he believed, would ensure he didn’t miss. Although it had been some time since he’d used any weapons at all, holding the rifle in his hands took him back to his early training. He was far from being a combat soldier, but he still knew how to use this weapon.

  “Sir?” the same crew member said again.

  “Listen up,” the captain said. “We can’t allow whatever is onboard with us to survive. Once in orbit, we will enable the self-destruct sequence, then we’re getting off this ship.” He’d already made the decision, but saying the words brought another wave of nausea over him, and he stumbled and lost his balance. He caught hold of the cabinet doors just in time keep from falling backwards.

  One of the crew who stood closest to the captain rushed toward him, as if to help.

  “No,” he shouted. Then, after a short pause, making sure the unexpected feeling had passed, he said, “I know that none of us here are prepared to do this, but I don’t see another way.” He paused, then turned to face the crew, holding the rifle firm in hopes that his crew wouldn’t notice the extreme fear he was feeling.

  “But sir, how will we . . .?”

  “The escape pods aren’t far. When it’s time, you’ll grab a weapon from the armory and follow me.”

  ~

  Two young children, a boy and a girl, were laughing and giggling as they played. The boy chased the girl through the tall green grass, and the captain watched and smiled. He turned to the woman sitting next to him and she moved in and kissed him softly on the lips. She smiled when she pulled away, then they both lay on their backs and stared up at the cloudless blue sky.

  “Sir,” a voice interrupted.

  The captain felt himself start to shake.

  “Sir,” the pilot’s voice spoke louder, more demanding.

  He opened his eyes and jerked upright in the chair. “What is it?” he said coldly.

  “We’re approaching Svati Prime, sir. Shall I initiate orbital sequence?”

  “Yes,” he replied, sad for his dream to have ended, a memory he longed to go back to. Now, as the ship prepared to enter orbit, he believed he’d probably never see his family again. He wasn’t about to say anything to the crew, but he figured that if those creatures had managed to overrun experienced combat soldiers, he and his crew probably wouldn’t even make it to the escape pods, though he knew they had to try.

  The captain stretched his legs, then slowly stood from his chair. “Once we enter orbit, everyone arm yourselves. We’re not wasting another second on this death trap.”

  Reaching for his rifle, propped against his chair, he grabbed hold and swung it over his shoulder, and walked toward the pilot. Out the viewport he could see Svati-Prime growing in size as the ship approached.

  Several minutes later, the pilot finally said, “We’re in orbit, sir.”

  “Good. Everyone grab a weapon, and let’s get off this ride,” the captain ordered.

  Without any hesitation, the pilot and seven other crew members on the bridge followed the captain to the armory cabinet.

  “There’s a couple more rifles and several pistols. Take what you want, make sure you have ammunition, and let’s go,” he said.

  Each crew member followed the orders, and once everyone was standing in front of the blast door, the captain turned around to address them one last time. The frightened expression on each of their faces made him pause for a moment.

  He wanted to tell them how scared he was, and that he didn’t want to be in charge right now. He wanted to let them know that some of them probably wouldn’t make it off the ship alive. He wanted to tell them he was sorry for everything. Instead, he lied.

  “I doubt we’ll even run into one of those things,” he began. “The weapons are merely a precaution.” He could tell by the faces of the crew that they didn’t believe him, but he continued anyway. “We’ll get to the escape pods and be fine. We’re all going to be fine.”

  The crew remained quiet and somber.

  “Everyone ready?” Another wave of nausea washed over him, and he closed his eyes for just a few seconds, commanding his body to stay calm while he took a deep breath. He was just as scared as his crew who stood in front him, but as the captain of the ship, it was his job—his duty—to remain calm and collected. And that’s exactly what he continued to tell himself.

  “Sir?” a female crew member asked.

  He took another deep breath and searched the small group, attempting to locate the source of the question. “Yes?” he replied.

  “Are you alright?”

  He just stared into the young woman’s terrified looking eyes. In that moment, he realized that he’d never even bothered to learn the first names of most of his crew. Wanting only to please the general, he had unintentionally become too much like him, cold and distant. But now, in this time of crisis, he could no longer hide his feelings, and he could see in her eyes that she knew exactly how scared he was.

  “What’s your name?” he asked the woman.

  “Sir?”

  “Your first name.”

  She looked at the others standing with her, then answered. “Genevieve, sir.”

  Forcing a half smile, he spoke through quivering lips. “I’m scared, too, Genevieve,” he admitted.

  She nodded and attempted to smile back.

  Before anyone else said a word, he turned around and faced the door, reached for the keypad, and quickly pressed the series of buttons to unlock and open the door. Time slowed down for a moment as he listened to the hydraulics at work inside the massive metal slab. Then the door slid open.

  Peering into the hallway, the captain first made notice of the flashing red lights, along with the fact that they were the only working lights in this part of the ship. Next, he examined the hallway, which appeared to be empty of any living thing. The captain’s arm shook slightly as he held the rifle up, finger on the trigger, ready to fire. He knew the escape pods were just down the corridor and to the left, and he hoped to make it there quietly and without incident.

  “Let’s move,” he said softly, waving the group forward as he took his first steps outside the bridge.

  A screech suddenly echoed through the hallway, followed by several more, and the crew began to panic. Things escalated quickly, and before the captain knew what was happening, several crew members charged forward and knocked him to the floor.

  “Let me through,” one woman demanded.

&
nbsp; “Move!” yelled another.

  The captain barely had time to cover his head before being trampled by his small crew, who sprinted past him and down the corridor.

  When it was over, the captain pulled himself to a sitting position and leaned against the wall just in time to hear the first rounds of gunfire, followed by screams. It was then he realized his rifle was missing.

  He frantically searched the floor around him, only to find it lying several meters away, and just out of his reach. He pressed his hands against the floor and attempted to stand, but a sharp pain in his wrist sent him crashing down again. His breathing became erratic as he started to crawl toward the weapon, but before he could reach it, his eyes caught a glimpse of a dark shape further down the eerie corridor.

  He froze, hoping that he hadn’t been seen, and that playing dead might be enough to prevent an attack. After holding his breath for too long, he exhaled as quietly as possible, shaking with fear.

  The rifle was still a couple meters away, so he began to argue with himself, trying to decide what to do. If he stayed still, perhaps the creature might leave, but what if it didn’t? The gun was close enough that if he hurried, he might be able to get several shots off before it reached him. But what if he misjudged? What if he couldn’t get to the weapon in time? What if the gun didn’t fire? What if he missed? What if . . .”

  Paralyzed with fear and indecision, the captain did nothing but stare down the dim corridor, wishing he would wake up from this nightmare. Then he realized the figure was slowly moving toward him, and he knew he had to do something before it was too late.

  Ignoring the pain in his wrist, he pushed himself off the floor and launched himself toward the rifle. But just as he was about to grab hold of the weapon, it was suddenly pulled away from his reach. Helpless to do anything else, he could only watch as the dark shape hunched down as though it was about to pounce, then let out a scream.

  Believing his life was over, the captain closed his eyes and waited for the inevitable. He pictured his wife and children, and wished he could see them one last time. It wasn’t until the creature let out a more muffled and distressed scream that he realized it hadn’t even touched him yet.