“Stay alert,” Nick said.
“You don’t have to remind us,” Jules said.
She was leaning against the wall, her pistol held ready in her left hand. Nick knew she was right-handed and that it was her right shoulder that had been shot. The Proxy stayed back in the big room with Nick. Fear was ripping at his insides. His legs felt unsteady, and sweat was being wicked from his body by the BIO-suit by what felt like the gallon. His mouth was dry, and there was a pressure on his shoulders that felt like a giant, invisible hand pressing down on him.
“Found it,” Ty called over the com-link. “But there’s crap piled all over the floor.”
“Throw it out,” Nick said. “Get that hatch open.”
“Is this the way you planned it?” Kal asked.
“No,” Nick said. “You want to take over? I don’t think things can get much worse.”
“Everything is okay,” Jules said. “We’re alive, and we’ve got the hostages. We’ll make it out.”
“She’s right,” Kal said. “We were thrown to the wolves here. None of us were ready for it.”
Nick knew they were right, and yet he still felt like he’d failed somehow. He’d let his friends down by leading them into a trap.
“I got it,” Ty proclaimed. “I can’t see much down there, but it looks clear.”
“Let’s go,” Nick said.
They shuffled out of the big room. Kal and Nick helped the Proxy walk. The tall aliens leaned heavily on their rescue party. Jules was moving on her own but leaning on the hallway wall for support. Nick wanted to ask if she was okay, but there was no time to help her if she wasn’t. The only thing they could do was press on and complete the mission by getting back to the ship. Once they were out of danger, he would make sure she got whatever help she needed.
They were almost to the maintenance room when a trio of Quazak fighters charged out of a side room. They didn’t have firearms, but in close quarters their pincer hands were as effective as any weapon. Nick and Kal were between the Proxy and the hostile natives. Nick saw the movement out of the corner of his eye and threw himself toward one of the attackers. They collided and fell. Nick’s pistol was knocked out of his hand, but he rolled to his knees and drew his karambit in one smooth motion that Gunny Tveit would have been proud of. The Quazakian thrust a pincer toward Nick, but he batted it away and slashed the curved knife across the alien’s thin arm. The arm was hard and encased in a thin shell, but the knife was sharp and Nick slashed hard. The curved blade severed the alien’s arm at one of the two joints. It howled and fell back, thrashing its legs in an effort to get away from Nick.
Kal wasn’t as fortunate. The creature that attacked him caught Kal’s upper arm in a death grip. Kal slammed the barrel of his pistol into the creature’s face and fired three times. The reports were deafening in the small corridor. The Quazak died instantly, but its pincer remained locked onto Kal’s arm. Part of the claw had caught on Kal’s armor, which had hardened instantly to protect his arm, but some of the pincer’s serrated edge was cutting through the BIO-suit and into his arm between the armored sections.
The third Quazak had charged at Jules. It jumped toward her, its pincer claws reaching for her throat, but she ducked and rolled away. The alien crashed into the wall and fell hard. Jules came up on her knees, her SRE pointed at the creature, but it wasn’t moving and she held her fire.
Nick hurried to Kal’s side and slashed at the dead Quazak’s wrist with his karambit. Kal shouted in pain as the blade slashed through the joint and severed the claw from the creature’s arm.
“Get it off!” Kal said.
Nick tried to pull the pincers apart and only managed to cut his hands. The pincers wouldn’t let go, so Nick decided to try a different tact.
“Hold still,” he ordered as he slid the karambit back into its sheath.
“What are you doing?” Kal asked, his voice strained from the pain in his arm.
“I’ll cut it off,” Nick said, unslinging his laser rifle. “With this.”
“Oh man, don’t twitch. I don’t want to lose my arm.”
“Trust me,” Nick said.
He put the barrel of the laser against the hard shell of the pincer and pulled the trigger. The laser shot through the claw and into the ceiling. After that, it only took a small tap and the pincer shattered.
“You okay?” Nick asked.
“Yeah, I’m good,” Kal said.
“Let’s get moving.”
The third Quazak, who had knocked himself unconscious, was starting to stir. Jules used her own laser rifle to end its life with one flick of the trigger. The focused beam of light shot through the creature’s head and burned a hole in the floor.
“Hey! Watch it up there,” Ty shouted. “Go easy with those lasers.”
“Sorry,” Jules replied.
“Is it clear?” Nick asked.
“Looks empty,” Ty replied. “A lot of pipes and conduits and places to hide. But I don’t see any movement.”
“Alright, let’s get down there,” Nick said. “Jules, you go first.”
She didn’t use her right arm as she climbed down the built-in ladder. Nick and Kal helped the Proxy follow her down. As Kal joined them, Nick pulled the hatch into place, then closed it over him as he crawled down into the narrow corridor.
“Which way?” Nick asked.
“That way,” Jules pointed.
“Ember, can you hear us?”
“Just barely,” her voice came back in a garble of static.
“We’re in the maintenance tunnels. Get off that rooftop,” Nick told her.
“Roger that. I’m on my way,” she said.
Nick wasn’t sure that going down into the tunnels was the best idea. They had started there, and perhaps they would be able to get back to the ship. But the maintenance tunnels were narrow, making it difficult to defend themselves if they had to fight. And the labyrinthine corridors would be easy to get lost in. But they didn’t have a better alternative, and so they pushed on.
If the Quazak followed them, they never caught up. Jules led the way, and even at less than a hundred percent, she set a fast pace through the corridors that led back to the Proxy docking arm. Nick was tense the entire way. He kept looking back over his shoulder, expecting to see the enemy, or worse still, get skewered by one of their deadly spear guns. But their escape was flawless. Kal and Jules had taken some damage, but Nick was convinced that it wasn’t anything they couldn’t recover from. Better still, they had rescued the hostages. The Proxy used the walls and pipes to support themselves as their long legs carried them through the maze of passages. When Jules announced that she could see the ship, Nick finally felt a sense of relief. They had survived their first mission. His body felt hot, weak, and just a little shaky—but it was all over, he told himself.
They opened the hatch and led the Proxy into the ship. They were met by Captain Dex’Orr, who seemed pleased for the first time since Nick had met the officer. He sent the hostages up to the medical facility before congratulating Nick’s team.
“Good job, Dragon Team,” Dex’Orr said. “We’re making preparations to leave the system now.”
“Where’s Ember?” Nick asked as he and the others removed their helmets. “Did she beat us here?”
“Private Gracie has not returned,” Dex’Orr said. “It is unfortunate, but her sacrifice enabled your escape.”
“Sacrifice?” Kal snapped. “What the hell is he talking about?”
Nick frowned, then pulled his helmet back onto his head.
“Ember? Where are you?” he asked over the com-link.
“Oh, hey Nick. I didn’t make it down to the maintenance hatch. Things are a little hectic here.”
“What’s going on?”
“The natives keep trying to get into the building,” she explained. “If I leave the roof, they’ll beat me inside and I’ll have to fight my way past them.”
“Hold tight,” Nick said. “I’m on my way.”
“That’s not going to happen, Private,” Captain Dex’Orr said. “This ship is leaving. We don’t have time for a rescue mission.”
“That’s crazy. We don’t leave people behind, sir,” Nick said.
“Yeah, he’s right,” Kal said. “We have to go back for her.”
“That is tactically unsound,” the alien officer said. “You could all be killed in the process. The PMC didn’t train you just to throw your lives away in a sentimental but futile gesture.”
“That’s a chance I’m willing to take,” Nick said. “We weren’t picked for recon because we were the smartest or strongest. We were selected because we know each other. We know what each person on the team is thinking, what we’re capable of, and what we’ll do in every situation. And right now, Ember knows that absolutely nothing is going to stop us from coming to help her. Not even you, Captain. I don’t mean any disrespect, but we saved your people. Now give us a chance to save ours.”
“We can’t wait for you,” Dex’Orr said, his face once more pinched in his normal scowl. “This vessel will leave the docking arm in exactly fifty-seven minutes. If you’re not back, you’ll be lost.”
“We’ll be back,” Kal said.
Dex’Orr shook his head as if he thought Nick and his friends were insane. But he stepped aside. “I hope you return,” he said. “Your team shows promise.”
“And our team isn’t complete without Ember Gracie,” Nick said. “Let’s go.”
Kal, Ty, and Jules filed past the stern officer. Fear felt like a living creature on Nick’s back. He couldn’t fathom losing Ember, but he knew if they didn’t hurry that they might all die.
“No time to waste,” Nick said. “Jules, why don’t you stay here and guide us?”
“No, I’m coming, Nick. Just try and stop me,” she said.
“Okay,” Nick said, feeling a surge of energy and optimism. “Let’s go.”
“Follow me,” Jules said, and she set out at a fast run, weaving through the pipes and bundles of conduits.
“Damn, that girl always surprises me,” Kal said.
“In a good way,” Ty said with a chuckle.
“Keep up, you losers,” Jules called over her shoulder.
“Fifty minutes,” Nick said. “Let’s do this.”
Chapter 42
Ember felt numb. Shooting the Quazakians didn’t feel real, at least not in the sense that they were individuals with lives and that she was killing them with each shot of her laser rifle. They seemed to be coming out of the woodwork like some type of insect, and she couldn’t possibly hope to stop them all. Twice she had thought of going back down to search for the maintenance hatch, but both times the natives had sent groups toward the building in an effort to get inside and flank her.
The laser rifle was getting hot. She had already used up the first set of power supplies, and while she had more battery packs to power the weapon, the gas-cooled barrel would soon be inoperable. She could feel the heat from the barrel shroud on her forward pistol grip as she fired three more shots and sent a group of the strange-looking aliens scurrying back to cover.
Nick and her friends were coming for her, and that thought brought a smile to her face. They would never leave her behind, even if it was the smart thing to do. Still, she couldn’t help but consider her position. It wasn’t good, and if someone got hurt trying to help her, she would never forgive herself.
After two more shots, the rifle beeped at her and cut power. It was done. The excessive heat had tripped the safety features. Ember didn’t know how long it would take to cool down and become operational again, but she didn’t have time to find out. She threw the weapon on the flat top of the building roof she was perched on and made a dash for the door that led down to the stairwell.
She stopped by the interior door that led into the enclosed stairwell. With her back to the wall, she drew her pistol. The short-range eliminator was a simple weapon. Not much had been improved on the pistol itself. It was sleek and fit her hand perfectly. The magazine held forty rounds of soft slugs and fit neatly into the handle. She pulled the slide on top of the barrel, which loaded the first bullet into the firing chamber, then let it go. The slide popped back into place.
With her left hand she drew the stun gun and set the power indicator with her thumb. She was armed and ready, but her heart was pounding in her chest like a jackhammer. She could just stay on the rooftop and wait for her friends to rescue her, but that wasn’t who she was. She wasn’t as athletic as Jules, but she was no shrinking violet. Growing up, she had always stood up for what she believed in. And relying on her friends to do anything for her felt wrong. She was strong, capable, and willing to look fear in the eye.
“So do it,” she told herself. “Don’t think; just act. Move and keep moving.”
Ember took a step back, inhaled sharply, then hit the door. Time was running out. She had heard the conversation between Nick and Captain Dex’Orr. They had less than an hour before the ship left the station, which meant she couldn’t go slowly and carefully. She had to get down to the ground floor as quickly as possible.
The stairwell was lit with glaring white safety bulbs that made the space seem completely different from the bluish starlight that illuminated the space station. She was in a completely enclosed space. The stairs were exactly half the width of the stairwell, which kept her from being able to look over the railing and see who was below her. But sound carried easily, and she heard a door open.
“Nick, are you here?” she asked.
“Not yet,” he said. His words came in puffs, and she could tell he was running. “We’re close.”
“They’re in the building,” she said. “I’m in the stairwell.”
“Is there cover?”
“Not really.”
“Em, what floor are you on?” Jules asked.
“Between the second and third,” Ember replied.
“Go back up,” Nick said. “Take cover just inside the landing.”
“Don’t hold back, Em,” Kal said. “The aliens are killers.”
“If they come up, unload on them,” Nick said. “Use the door for cover.”
“Okay,” Ember said, slowly moving back up the flight of stairs.
She was scared—terrified, really—but she knew she had to fight. Shooting from the rooftop had been easy. It was like a simulation or a video game. The laser rifle didn’t make a sound or have any recoil when fired. The reticle on her HUD would steady on the small image of an alien dashing toward the building and she’d pull the trigger. The alien would drop to the ground. Most died instantly, their internal organs severed by the focused laser light. It cut through their exoskeleton, boiled their blood, and liquefied their organs. Many lay on the streets with smoke rising from the small holes left by the laser rifle. A few didn’t die easily. They fell, screaming and writhing in pain, but their cries sounded strange and almost artificial to Ember, who was high up on the tall building’s rooftop.
The aliens were coming up the stairs with no effort to hide. They expected her to still be on the rooftop. Their feet pounded on the metal stairs awkwardly. Ember felt a sense of panic trying to take hold of her. She wanted to run, to get away from the aliens as fast as she possibly could, but she forced herself to stay put. The door to the stairwell was propped against her foot. She was kneeling down by the doorframe, with most of her body protected by the metal wall.
When the aliens came up, she didn’t hesitate. Her finger worked the trigger as fast as she could pull it. Shots rang out, loud and frightening. The pistol bucked in her hand. There were screams and the sounds of bodies falling. The report from the pistol echoed in the stairwell, and the soft slugs pelted off the walls, ricocheting from the metal surfaces and careening through the space.
When the slide popped back and locked in the open position, Ember ducked inside the room. There were lights on, as well as windows across what looked to be an office space. She didn’t take the time to study her surroundings. Instead, she hit the
release on her pistol, let the empty magazine drop to the ground, then rammed a new one into the weapon. Her heart was pounding, but she knew she had done what was necessary. If she was going to survive, she would have to fight. Her instinct was to hold both the pistol and the stun gun, but she needed one hand free to open the door to the stairwell and reload her pistol.
With her left hand free, she opened the door to the stairs just a crack. The attack she feared didn’t come, so she opened the door a little wider. She saw blood, so dark on the light colored walls that it was almost black. She heard movement, but no footsteps or words—just groans and the unmistakable sound of something sliding across the metal steps.
Fear had its icy hand around her throat, but she couldn’t hide. If she wanted to escape, she had to get to the ground floor, and that meant getting past the creatures she had shot at. She let the door to the third floor close behind her. Each step felt like a jolt of fear. It was hard to breathe, and her hands were shaking. The landing below her was covered with blood. She saw a hand that ended in a pincer claw. Next to it was a long weapon that reminded Ember of a spear gun. She peeked around the corner of the stairwell and saw bodies. The strange aliens were dark red in color, their heads small with antennae sticking out. Most were quivering or jerking. Ember knew that most things moved even after they died. In school, they had dissected frogs, and the legs would jerk if certain parts of their brain were touched with a metal pick. She told herself the movement was nothing but reflexes, but it didn’t calm her fears.
After taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, she nudged the closest body with one foot. The creature didn’t move or respond. She forced herself to go around the body. She checked the second and third aliens—all dead. The fourth one was different. It was on the second floor landing, curled up by the door. A blood train ran from the stairs across the metal landing and the creature made a raspy, groaning sound with the occasional click that Ember could only assume was from the creature’s teeth.
Dragon Team Seven Page 25
