Revolution Rising- Rejects

by Sarah Snyder

  Revolution Rising:

  Rejects

  By

  Sarah Snyder

  Copyright © 2018

  www.authorsarahsnyder.wordpress.com / https://www.facebook.com/authorsarahsnyder / Twitter: @authorsarahsny1

  Information

  Revolution Rising: Rejects is the third novella in the Revolution Rising series; a series consisting of several novellas and novels devoted to the planet of Flamouria and her citizens.

  Becoming Aware of the truth is not enough; we must Adjust our perceptions and Adapt to new ideas before we can truly Accept and act upon what is true.

  With Earth’s resources dwindling and the wealth of nations in arrears, humanity turned to corporations for funding its desperate flight into deep space. It wasn’t long, however, before it became clear corporations would not abide by the moral expectations of those it served. Space – considered international waters by law – allowed the Administration to conduct their business how they saw most beneficial. Whether this was best for the rest of humanity was not a concern. We hoped for salvation, but instead received annihilation.

  Table of Contents

  Information

  Table of Contents

  Legal Notes

  Chapter 1. Previously

  Chapter 2. Aware

  Chapter 3. Adjust

  Chapter 4. Adapt

  Chapter 5. Accept

  About The Author

  Other Books By Sarah Snyder

  Legal Notes

  Revolution Rising: Rejects

  Copyright © 2018 Sarah Snyder

  Self-publishing

  (authorsarahsnyder@gmail.com)

  This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

  All rights reserved.

  Imprint: Independently published

  Chapter 1. Previously

  Sulfuric ash dotted the ground the closer he walked, the odor masking a more pungent smell beneath the surface. Decay was an unpleasant aroma from any source, but the level of rot which would cut through the smell of sulfur was nauseating. He reached Wil’s side knowing what he would find, his hand on his friend’s shoulder to help still the shudders racking his body. There was no need to concern themselves with helping the villagers; there was nobody left to save.

  “Sawyer.” Maverick’s voice was soft behind him.

  “Don’t come out here, Mav.” Sawyer ordered, but knew he was too late as he turned and recognized the expression on his brother’s face. He’d smelled the same odor Sawyer had, his expression stating he knew its source.

  “Hellfire and damnation?” Maverick described the scene perfectly in his curse, his mouth agape in shock at the scene.

  “How did this happen?” Zander mumbled through his heaving. “Why would someone do this? How could they do it?”

  The steam, smoke, and smell of sulfur charred flesh was overwhelming, but none of the men turned away from the sight; none of them could process what they were watching without further inspection. A horrible understanding came to him through the stench of rancid death; “I don’t think someone did this. It’s like the ground opened up and swallowed this section of the camp.”

  “Swallowed? Hellfire, it looks like they were cooked alive.” Wil added breathlessly.

  “We should get those computers up and running in the bunker.” Maverick suggested hoarsely, his eyes wide and his lips curled in disgust. “There might be some information on them about what happened here.”

  “Are you crazy? We should get the hellfire out of here!” Wil argued in a shaking voice.

  Sawyer wanted to run – to grab his family and disappear into the void where the horrors of Flamouria couldn’t reach – but there was something holding him firm to the ground. An idea spawned in the depths of his mind, echoing like ripples in a pool until it consumed him. Sawyer looked down on the mass grave beneath them, steam erupting in vacant pockets between flesh, bone, and remnants of cloth and leather. The bodies below them were still burning, ignorant to the effect their plight had on those who observed. Sawyer watched the mound of bodies roll and swell as more vents opened and released their gaseous hold. Bits of tents and metal fragments sat in charred testament to the suddenness of the event. A large metal sign on the far side of the crater reading ‘mess hall’ in large, painted, white letters still stood intact, but the building it was attached to was only burning cinders.

  There would be no opportunity to run for the men and women below; they would never be free of the wastes of their world. None would remember their names, none would mourn their losses, and none would offer them a proper burial. None of the Administration above or the settlers still on Flamouria cared what happened to these miners. Sawyer couldn’t leave without knowing what happened to them. The smells, sights, and sounds around him faded until only one thing remained: the truth mattered.

  Chapter 2. Aware

  Mist clung to shaded pools, releasing their hold by reluctant tendrils as the sun rose. The edges of puddles dried and cracked as the thirsting soil reclaimed their bounty. No flora grew near the mines, choked out by the black tar and gray ash left by humanity’s consumption of what little resources Flamouria offered. Rather than the dusty odor of dessert or the sweet tang of scrub trees and ferns, a pungent mix of Sulphur and putrid flesh drifted on the breeze. Sawyer Hale shuddered at the memory-laden odor, resisting the urge to turn for a second look at the carnage as he and his companions retreated to the assumed safety of their ship; Anastasis.

  “We cannot leave!” Zander Kane shouted breathlessly, hurrying to keep stride with the more practiced gaits of the others. Sheltered and protected from the unforgiving climate of his home world, the would-be medic was unused to physical exertion. The sun charred his pale flesh, a pink hue staining the bridge of his narrow nose and high cheeks.

  “The hellfire we can’t!” Wil Dehring’s stride never faltered. Six-foot to Zander’s six-four frame, Wil’s lesser stride was unnoticeable in his adrenaline-fueled rush to escape the mining camp.

  “There may be survivors. We must search the mines.” Zander panted.

  “You saw that pit clear as I did.” Wil stopped, turning on his heel to face Zander. “You saw what happened to the people here. There are no survivors down there.”

  “There were hundreds of miners here. Did that look like hundreds of bodies?” Zander asked with a tremoring voice.

  “I don’t know, I lost count of the severed limbs and melted flesh!” Wil’s voice rose.

  “Zander’s right, there was nowhere near a hundred bodies down there.” Sawyer’s younger brother, Maverick joined the conversation.

  “Really? I couldn’t tell! Did you get a good count of their fried corpses?” Wil squinted with mock curiosity and crossed his arms.

  “That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think?” Zander sneered with a shudder.

  “Harsh, you find that harsh? Kind of like the possibility one of those sink holes could open up beneath our feet and we could all cook?” Wil’s face darkened. “Personally, I don’t want to know what it feels like for my blood to boil in my veins. Sorry if that’s a little harsh.”

  “There are other sections of the mine. One of them – all of them – may be viable.” Zander sighed and looked toward Sawyer desperately. “We cannot assume everyone dead.”

  “We are standing – literally – a hundred yards from where people melted to death.” Wil’s
sapphire eyes rolled. “I think we can assume everyone down there dead.”

  “Enough, Wil.” Sawyer demanded.

  “Exactly, enough! Let’s get out of here!” Wil growled.

  “We aren’t going anywhere.” Sawyer’s response shocked his friends silent.

  Wil was first to regain his voice, throwing his hands in the air. “Why not?”

  “Where would you like to go, Wil?” Sawyer asked with a raised brow.

  “Anywhere but here!”

  “To the TSS? They won’t take us in. Hellfire, they’re more likely to shoot us down. Or, Earth? It’s a dying world. Maybe, we should head for the Tritons Region; the new Administration controlled sector. We have limited supplies, no destination, and no way to pay for either if we did find access to them.” Sawyer felt his temper rising and took a shuddering breath for calm before continuing. “The Administration won’t help us; they don’t care about what happens to anyone on this rock. But, something here – in these mines – was interesting enough for the Administration to recruit scavengers. Don’t you want to know what it was?”

  “It was kako petra, remember?” Wil reminded Sawyer of their find in Zander’s laboratory. “Black, shining, worth a fortune?”

  “Do you see any ore here? Do you see any crates ready for transport?” Sawyer stretched his hands toward the abandoned camp. “There is nothing here.”

  “Maybe they already took it.” Wil seemed unconvinced by Sawyer’s claims. “If they were planning to fire their cannon on the planet, they would take everything they cared about off world.”

  “No, there were core samples in the main building.” Maverick shook his head thoughtfully. “There was no sign of kako petra.”

  “So, maybe the mines were running dry.” Wil excused with a groan and toss of his arms. “Who cares?”

  “The Administration was willing to destroy an entire planet, to let an entire civilization die. Something happened here – something bad – and nobody on the Terran Space Station, or Earth, or in the Tritons Region gives a damn.” Sawyer watched his friend’s face soften with his words. “These people were looking for something the Administration wanted. I want to know what that is.”

  “I’m fine with finding something to shove up the Administration’s ass, but I’m not okay with boiling to death.” Wil crossed his arms stubbornly.

  “I can help with that.” Maverick raised a hand for attention. “The computers in the main bunker are cooked, but I have spare parts in the Anastasis and I can link directly to her onboard computers for power. I’m sure they have seismic sensors somewhere. A little bit of time and I can have this camp running again.”

  “That didn’t do much good for the miners in that hole back there.” Wil mumbled and crossed his arms petulantly.

  “We don’t know what happened here, and we won’t know anything until we get the computers up.” Maverick argued, his hopeful, gray eyes pleading with Sawyer. “What harm can it do to try?”

  “How long will it take you?” Sawyer asked with a sigh.

  “An hour or so to get the systems viable again, then it is just a matter of turning on the right systems.” Maverick answered with a widening smile.

  “Do it.” Sawyer nodded, watching his brother turn and bolt toward the building they’d left minutes before.

  “What about survivors?” Zander reminded.

  “We can look for survivors after we have the computer and monitoring systems up.” Sawyer promised with a hand on the taller man’s shoulder. “If they are here, it will be a lot easier to find them if we know the layout of the mines.”

  “Logical.” Zander agreed.

  “I’m going to do a perimeter check.” Sawyer turned to address Zander directly. “Let Mav know and help him with the computers. Out of the three of us, you’re most qualified.”

  “Fair enough.” Zander mumbled after a thoughtful hesitation.

  Zander disappeared inside the bunker before Sawyer turned to his silent best friend. Wil’s boyish features – sun-kissed blond hair and smooth flesh – were slightly marred by his several days growth of stubbled beard, but the worry lines darkening the corners of his eyes aged him considerably. “Go ahead and say your piece.”

  “Nothing to say.” Wil walked toward the bunker.

  “Nothing; no comments about my sanity or stupidity?” Sawyer matched his stride, catching his shrugged response. “So, this is a guilt trip, then.”

  “If you’re feeling guilty, then that’s on you. All I’m saying is that there is a space station over our heads ready to fire on the planet and most likely anyone trying to get off-world, a weapon people would kill for hidden in our cargo hold, and now we can’t even depend on the ground beneath our feet to hold steady. I’d say we’re in a bit over our heads here and you want to put us in even deeper; hellfire, you want us to go underground. I’ve no intention on boiling to death in some filthy, scavenger-scum-infested mine.

  “If you want to go down there, be my guest, I won’t stop you or put up an argument. Personally, I think you’re crazy and, while you’re down there, I’ll be getting the ship ready to leave this forsaken pit.” Wil sighed and looked at Sawyer seriously. “I want off this rock as soon as possible but you’re right, the Administration doesn’t want anyone from Flamouria in the ‘verse. We need something to protect ourselves. Just tell me this isn’t because of some misguided attempt to get on Maverick’s good side. He knows you didn’t leave anyone behind in Alpha Sect now. You don’t have to risk your life to prove something.”

  “It’s not about that.” Sawyer sighed and ran a hand through his short-cropped, black hair. “You know me, Wil – I am the last person to place my family and friends in danger – but this time I can’t shake the feeling we need to find out what happened here.”

  After a long moment of studying Sawyer’s expression, Wil seemed to find what he was looking for. “Okay, I’m in.”

  “That’s it?” Sawyer questioned warily.

  “That’s it.” Wil chuckled. “Besides, you know I’m always up for anything to embarrass or harass the Administration.”

  “Truth.” Sawyer returned Wil’s smile as the men walked around the main bunker.

  Sawyer felt Wil veer away from their path, turning his head to see what drew his attention. A box-like vehicle rested nearby, its matte gray hull coated with a thin, dried, splattering of brown and black mud. She rested on four, belt-fed rollers, each half of Sawyer’s six-foot-two-inch height. She looked large enough to fit a small team – four or five comfortably – and she offered circular, porthole views from several panels. Her roof caught the sun’s light. “It looks solar.” Sawyer mentioned as Wil examined the craft.

  “I think it’s an all-terrain vehicle.” Wil ran a hand over her hull. “I’ve never seen one, but I’ve heard they can travel across any surface, even the swamps.”

  “Do you think it still works?” Sawyer questioned, wondering if solar components would be affected by an electromagnetic pulse.

  “I don’t know.”

  Sawyer turned away from the squared craft, looking back over his shoulder at their surroundings. A second vessel caught his eye – one never meant to see the stars. Glossy black, with a long, rifle-like barrel protruding from a squared operator’s cabin, the machine looked like a cannon. Sawyer approached its end, seeing there was no hole from which a projectile could fire, but rather a small bead at the center surrounded by wires and metal fittings. “I wonder if this is the drill Zander mentioned.” Sawyer looked to Wil for agreement, but his friend had disappeared. “Wil?”

  “Yes, that is the drill the Administration gave my village.” Zander spoke from the shadows of the storage bunker before stepping into the light and squinting against its glare. “It is based on pulse technology. Rather than creating a physical depression in rock and soil – which can lead to collapse and instability – it emits focused heat.”

  “It’s always hot, how does that help with mining?” Sawyer asked, swiping a bead of sweat from h
is forehead as the morning sun baked his flesh.

  “It takes more than twelve hundred degrees Fahrenheit to truly melt rock. If temperatures on Flamouria reached those numbers, it would not be habitable. This drill heats the rock only to metamorphic temperatures, making it malleable without melting it entirely. This allows for the safe construction of tunnels through boulders, rather than drilling them out. Once the rock cools, it is then more stable than if we were blasting or using a physical drill.” Zander joined Sawyer beside the drill.

  “This machine doesn’t look used; it’s spotless.” Sawyer wondered.

  “This is only one of the drills; the others may have been more utilized.” Zander suggested.

  “How many are there?”

  “Originally there were four, but one was lost in a mining collapse a few months ago.” Zander revealed.

  “Great; more collapses.” He turned his attention to their surroundings, searching for Wil’s familiar form. “Where did Wil get to?”

  “It appears your friend has discovered one of the solar transports. My mentor used one like it to move between the mining camp and our village.” Zander nodded toward the all-terrain vehicle, where a panel sat opened and inviting. “This one is quite a bit larger and older than the one Dr. Charles used.”

  Sawyer accepted the invitation, moving toward the entrance with Zander at his heels. “I thought you were helping Mav with the computers?”

  Zander caught up to him as he stepped into the vehicle’s shadow. “I attempted to offer aid, but Maverick claimed I was useless and sent me away.”

  “Sounds like something he would say.” Sawyer mumbled, stepping inside the foreign transport.

  Bench seats rested on either side of him, each holding two, five-point harnesses. The floor and walls were a sturdy, wire mesh-lined aluminum, and the porthole openings sat at eye level if one were sitting in each harnessed seat. A narrow door at the opposite end revealed an operating area, a single seat centered amidst outdated equipment. Sawyer’s eyes widened at the control panels covered with switches and knobs, rather than the flat, touch-screen surfaces of updated transports. “This thing must be ancient.”