“I used to,” he finally admitted in a dry voice, as if it came from someone else. “She met someone else.” He blinked. “Twice, actually.” He only kept a few things from those boxes: the necessities. She’d decided to keep the cat; lucky for him, as he probably would have wound up in one of those boxes too. [She was remarkably efficient when she wanted to be, and Harper was living proof.]
Gally winced. “Sorry to hear.”
He shrugged as casually as he could, [given the subject material]. He placed the necklace back around its former home and bit his lip. “Well, I learned a lot,” he said. “No matter how much you kick and scream, life just keeps—” something caught his attention, catching him mid-sentence. Three blips appeared on his radar. “Huh,” he mused.
Gally glanced over at him, noticing his energy change. “What?”
“Three ships flying overhead.” He pointed to his radar blips. Had they been in the air, the Atticus would have provided a louder warning. The girl squinted. “Isn’t this planet abandoned?”
She didn’t answer, just leaned forward. “That’s all we can see of them?”
Harper nodded, not wanting to be reminded how low-tech his ship actually was.
“That’s a military formation,” the pilot added, having seen dozens of such things in his day. “In this atmosphere.” While Gally didn’t catch exactly what he meant, he was trying to say that such a formation would be very difficult to manage in such an awful environment. The three pilots were either very good pilots or very diligent drones.
Instead of matching his curiosity or asking follow-up questions, as Harper expected, Gally stood up. “We’ll keep an eye out in the morning.” As she left the cockpit, she touched his shoulder. Her hand slowly swept off of him as she walked away. Harper slouched back in his seat, not wanting to admit to himself that she relaxed him as much as she actually did.
In the morning, while Josie was strapping up, her memories ripped at her. She couldn’t stop thinking of the creature she’d met in the gray: the way it moved, its speed, its ferocity. If it had managed to reach her, with its massive teeth and well-practiced claws, she would have been killed. Memories of it moving toward her flashed in her mind. And there were more of them, she thought, an uncounted lot somewhere out there. She zipped up her environmental suit, though it wasn’t activated, and tightened the plates to her armor.
Ox was suiting up as well, though he didn’t put on his armor. He leaned toward her and pointed with a slow, gigantic finger. “We won’t need all that,” he reminded her.
Boomer interjected, after closing his demolitions pouch and sealing it. “You thinking of giving these things another hug, Jo?”
Josie managed a smirk, though it wasn’t entirely sincere. “Just being prepared. Wouldn’t want to lose an eye.” Boomer jeered, pretending to take offense. Josie picked up her rifle, checking the charge of the battery. “Gonna hug the shit out of these guys,” she quipped with a determined grin.
Boomer smirked at her, but his face soon fell; he knew the truth as he looked back at his boxes. In their line of work, over-preparing meant fear or reluctance. And the lieutenant being worried was rare. After looking at her for a few more seconds, he unsealed his pouch and begrudgingly retrieved more equipment.
Nitro walked by, already fully suited up. He was silent and focused: something the Company was accustomed to before a mission—and only before a mission. He dragged out a large box full of clips. Boomer scoffed at the sight; it had been a while since they had used actual munitions.
Economically speaking, old school munitions had grown quite expensive. They had to be manufactured, packed, shipped, and loaded, all for a one-time use. Plasma batteries were rechargeable, more effective against non-biological enemies, and they just looked cool. Purple Company had outfitted all of their equipment with purple plasma. It was a part of their aesthetic, which was important to Boomer. “Might as well just throw currency at them,” Boomer mumbled as he opened the old-fashioned case. He expected it to be dusty, like opening a tomb, but it wasn’t.
“Doctor’s orders. And mine,” Nitro commented, loud enough for the team to hear, and they continued to load up. Their current arms, both main and side, fired both live rounds and plasma, with just a small button on the side to switch between the two. Even so, the rifles became much heavier, would kick harder, and would fire louder than when firing plasma. With a smile, Josie slammed the clip in and heard it click. To her, it was all the more satisfying.
When Purple Company arrived at the landing bay, Nitro glanced up to see all the doctors filing into the Atticus as well. His face dropped to disapproval before he heard Ox behind him. “Too many.” The captain’s upper lip curled before he nodded, storming up to the ship, ahead of the other mercenaries.
He found Gally standing at the base of the loading dock. When he reached her, he found that she wouldn’t match his energy. She turned at the waist toward him and raised a curious eyebrow. He gave her a serious look, as if it was a question that he turned into a statement. “They’re not coming.”
But she shrugged, looking back at the ship. “It’s the discovery of an age, captain.” She couldn’t help but smile at their enthusiasm, even if they had been stubborn when she asked them to stay put. The rest of Purple Company walked past Nitro, and she watched them board, still turned away from him. “It’s just a quick trip.”
Nitro’s nose twitched, wanting to argue further, but he was interrupted by the engines of the Atticus warming up. He stepped past her and boarded the ship, his head bouncing in an angry nod. “What could possibly go wrong?!” he asked, ironically.
Ox plopped himself down next to Mitch, who was then forced to hunch over. They both looked to Boomer, who was looking at the ceiling and pondering Nitro’s question aloud. “Lots of things.” He spoke over the engine noise. “Lots of fucking things.”
The roof on the research station’s docking bay opened, and the Atticus rose up, diligently. The vessel carried on for some time before they reached any signs of buildings. Doctor Howlette leaned into the cockpit, noticing the large gray-swept landscape that was merely dotted with proof of civilization. Pieces of half-eaten buildings and bits of houses littered their path like discarded chicken bones. “My god,” he uttered to no one in particular. His voice came through the coms rough and bewildered. “This was a city when we got here.”
Gally, in the co-pilot seat—perfectly happy not to touch anything, though Harper reminded her anyway—rolled her bottom lip. It was all an affirmation that this needed to be done; this kind of decimation would not end on Sabile. And while her personal business with Rook was vital to her, she couldn’t walk away without doing something about these monsters. Just then, she thought of her report back to her superiors. “Doctor Collier,” she called to him over the coms. Without waiting for him to acknowledge, she continued, “have you named them yet?”
The scientists looked at each other inquisitively. Usually the honor of naming the creature was given to the discoverer. However, this was due to the fact that the discoverer and the actual creator never seemed to be in the same room. But they were now. Doctor Howlette had a peculiar grin on his face as he glanced up to Martin; given Martin’s reputation, Howlette was half expecting some variation of ‘Collierites’ or ‘Martin’s Munchers’. The look on Martin’s face proved that he hadn’t given it any thought.
Shame took Martin: shame in having all but eliminated the Heruleans, shame at creating such devastating creatures, and shame for having felt pride in being a creator of life. “Carrion,” he grimaced, thinking that the only name appropriate. His legacy was already a tapestry of death; he would not see these creatures added to that.
Over the hum of the engines and the heavy silence, the other doctors nodded in agreement and understanding. Lee slapped Martin on the shoulder in solidarity. They didn’t speak, [as they were awful with words and feelings and such], but they all sat there, silently commiserating with the man they idolized.
“Every
body buckle up,” Harper was heard over the coms, but the instruction fell on deaf ears. The doctors and their assistants already had their seatbelts on, and Purple Company simply disregarded it. Even Gally disregarded it, and she was sitting right next to him, slumped comfortably in her seat up front. “Cracking a window.” The back of the cargo bay drooped, and wind howled through the Atticus. Most of the crew deployed the visual shields on their helmets. Gally did this and stood up, slowly making her way toward the back. Harper’s head turned to follow her, though his eyes remained in front of him. “What did I just say?!” he shouted back to her. He would have insisted further, but with the cargo bay ajar, his focus was needed in keeping the Atticus steady. He shook his head and tried not to distract himself further.
Josie stood up, wrapping a rope-like cord around her waist and then around a nearby bar. It was a short, sturdy leash, and she could walk to the edge of the platform and still feel secure. “Try not to enjoy it too much!” Boomer called out, referring to putting more holes in the Carrion, and the Company all grinned. She cocked her rifle, switched to live rounds, and looked out. The Atticus slowed over a small group of the abominations, who were tearing away at a nearby structure.
Gally stood in the doorway of the cockpit, inquisitively watching Josie stand as the gray snow whirled around her. She aimed very carefully and fired two shots. The Carrion barely noticed the gunfire. The first shot was a near miss, but the second pierced one of the beasts square in the head, dropping it. The other creatures barely noticed their fallen kin, pushing it aside while they continued eating.
Harper noticed a hailing message appear on his holo-board. A green wave appeared to flicker as it spoke, meaning the sender did not allow a video to transmit. “Rogue vessel, you are poaching in restricted airspace. Cease your actions immediately and withdraw from this area.”
The pilot’s eyes widened. He’d never been called a ‘rogue vessel’ before, and the voice had a way of making it sound like an insult. Harper’s mouth hung open as he pressed his own hailing button to respond; there must have been some confusion. “Uh, restricted?” He kept his thoughts to himself, but he was curious as to why anyone would hold domain over a literal wasteland. “Restricted by whom, exactly?”
Before the response came in, he heard Josie fire two more shots in the back. Harper leaned back and opened his coms to the crew again. “Guys, hold fire for just a second,” he asked. Just then, an explosion rocked the ship’s forward engine. Harper shouted in surprise as he was thrown back into his seat. The second explosion nearly penetrated the wing, and the third nearly hit the cockpit itself. The pilot was thrown away from the holo-board before he could reach the hailing button, but that didn’t stop him from shouting. “Wait! Wait! Wait!” Knowing the sound of an engine exploding, Harper leapt upon the controls instead.
When the first explosion hit, Gally was thrown from her spot in the doorway. While she stumbled, she attempted to grab on to something, anything, but everything was out of reach. When the second explosion came, she simply flew. Her eyes widened, realizing her complete lack of control as her feet were lifted off the ground and she was thrown directly toward the end of the bay doors. She wanted to scream, but couldn’t find the air to do so, so she just let out a small yelp as she glided past the others.
A skinny but muscular arm, housed in an environmental suit, reached out and caught her. The catch nearly knocked the wind out of her, but she was pulled back and held tightly around her waist. She looked down and to her left to see who she was pressed up against so tightly; it was Nitro. Her hands clung to his arm as the ship spun.
Josie was shouting something as she clung to the rope she’d tied. Gritting her teeth, she was forced against one of the walls. She watched one of the lab assistants fly past her, thrown from the ship.
After some time, Ox could no longer deal with the centripetal force. He was too heavy, and finally lost his grip on his seat. Unlike the others, he slid on the floor. Despite Josie reaching for him, he turned away from her. He knew he would break a Human; even one as fit as Josie would be ripped in half. Their eyes met, however, and his expression could just barely be read by her. His wide eyes seemed as calm as ever. His bottom lip jutted out slightly, as he was certain of what was about to happen. And then he was gone.
A more responsible pilot, one accustomed to passengers and the safety of others, would have been telling them to hang on or dictating safety protocols. Harper, however, was not used to having Human—or Waykind—passengers, and he seemed entirely focused on cursing the voice on the other end of the hail.
He also had to focus on not dying, which was proving quite difficult. He’d managed to float the spinning, sturdy, small vessel into what appeared to be chunks of a city. He was fairly certain he’d found a clearing, and he no longer had time to avoid the rocky terrain. While going straight down didn’t seem to be an option, they careened into the clearing with a splash of gray snow and chunks from the ship. Rocks below them rattled the landing; some pierced the hull. The right wing crashed into a nearby abandoned and half-eaten building, ending the spinning and tearing itself off in the process. The sudden stop to the spinning threw the passengers again. They thrashed once more, groaning.
Harper peeled his fingers from the controls, only to slam his fists into them, angrily. He cursed and cursed as he smashed the gauges, not thinking about his door being open. This job had suddenly taken him into the red. He wasn’t exactly finished punching, but his hands began to hurt, so he stood up. Rubbing the side of his fist with his palm, he approached the cargo bay to assess the damage.
While the other doctors were grumbling and complaining, Martin looked to his right to see Doctor Aldo’s lifeless body sitting next to him; his neck had snapped in the landing.
As Harper stumbled past them, he heard Gally grunting. “Off!” she demanded, trying to push Nitro’s arm from her waist. “Get off me!” Nitro unfolded his arm from around the girl, and was certain he’d heard it crack once or twice in the process. Gally stumbled out of his arms. He didn’t expect thanks, but the thought of protecting his paycheck, somehow, only came second to him. That took him by surprise. They met eyes for a moment, and she nodded to him. He nodded back, but was the first to break the look before tending to his arm.
Josie was untying the rope that had saved her life. Her face was troubled, though that was the only part of her to show it. “We lost Ox.” Harper nodded, having felt the weight adjustment mid-spin.
Martin’s voice was like whispered gravel, wondering if speaking would finally push him over the edge from nauseous to vomiting. “And Reggie. And Doctor Aldo.” Mitch shook his head as he tried to stand.
“That wasn’t turbulence.” Boomer almost sounded pleased; he genuinely would have enjoyed the ride if he hadn’t lost a member of his team. “We were shot at.”
“Without much warning,” Harper added, dismal and agitated.
Martin was heard, wanting to explore a topic that started with ‘who in the hell’ but he was interrupted by the captain, who seemed to be moving on already.
Nitro removed his helmet for a moment before he gave his next order. “We have to move. They’ll be coming for us.”
“Good,” Josie quipped. While she’d lost her rifle, she was still carrying her two sidearms and her usual attitude. After a moment, she looked up and realized the whole crew was looking at her. Finally, she clarified. “I wanna meet ’em.”
“Yeah, me too,” Harper said, to the surprise of everyone, as he ran a hand along a bulkhead.
Nitro stared at Harper, in disbelief, for a moment. He eventually shook his head and repeated himself. “We have to move,” he said more firmly, before looking back to Josie. After the slightest pause to protest, she nodded.
They’d gathered the equipment, laid out what could be carried and what couldn’t, and took inventory of their weapons. Luckily, their environmental suits were still intact. Nitro stripped Doctor Aldo’s body of his, and Mitch tried not to think about the impli
cation that the body would simply be left at the site. He just stared as Nitro walked past him, carrying only the suit. As his eyes followed the captain out, he noticed Boomer had wandered off. He was still in sight, but he seemed to be inspecting the surrounding buildings with what looked like a green-light flashlight.
“What’s the plan?” Doctor Howlette asked, reluctant to break the silence.
“Same plan,” Gally interjected before anyone else could, and she looked around. “Just need a new way home.”
Harper strapped a holster to his side loaded with a plasma pistol; the same one that Gally had refused. His bottom lip twisted, wondering if he’d ever get to use it. He walked, slowly, up the battered cargo bay ramp and back into the cockpit. He stared at the broken gauges, the warning lights that had given up merely flashing and now remained solid and determined. He’d spent years of his life in that seat, and he’d never see it again.
“Sydney, initiate termination protocols.”
Her voice was dull and broken, coming from a damaged speaker that hid somewhere within the cockpit. “Initiating.” An even fainter voice came through once more, only for a moment. “Goodbye.” It unintentionally conveyed an emotion that gave Harper pause. He rubbed one of the walls and nodded.
“Yeah.” He bit his lip, realizing he was speaking to no one, but feeling the need to say the words anyway. “Goodbye.”
After taking a moment, he looked around again to see the necklace and ring, stubbornly hanging from its same, unimportant switch. He thought about leaving it there, letting the whole thing die with his ship. After staring at it for some time, he finally collected the necklace and shoved it in his pocket. When he turned to leave the cockpit, he saw Gally also turn, not wanting to be seen watching him. When he reached the end of the cargo bay, she just muttered an uncomfortable and mildly passive aggressive line. “Get everything?”
Stars Gods Wolves Page 11
