by Sarah Snyder
“Zander, you idiot, move!” Wil ordered.
“Dr. Charles, please, stop this.” Zander’s light blue eyes danced in desperation. “Let me help you.”
“Zander, he isn’t who you think he is – not anymore.” Wil gritted the words through his teeth, clearly struggling to keep calm as Zander continued to place himself in harm’s way.
Zander’s face fell as his former mentor continued to growl, hiss, and threaten. The savage lunged for Zander, but Wil intervened, shoving Zander out of the way and taking aim. Zander reversed the movement, pushing the rifle from Wil’s hands so the fired round struck the concrete floor instead of its intended target. “No! Don’t kill him!”
The movement left Wil vulnerable as his rifle fell from his grasp and his balance was lost. The savage charged Wil, knocking him to the ground and settling over him. Wil’s scream was followed by the savage’s head raising with a mouthful of flesh and blood. Wil held together the torn flesh of his mangled forearm.
The former Dr. Charles looked down at Wil, an odd, evil smile crossing his face before he rose and turned toward his next victim. Sawyer tried to move, to force his arms and legs to cooperate, but the spinning in his head and lack of air in his lungs left him useless as the savage stalked Zander around the room. The former mentor reached his apprentice, cornering him away from those who might offer aid. Dr. Charles pounced like a feral animal, his nails clawing and his jaws gnashing to claim a piece of Zander’s flesh. Zander held him back with his hands on the savage’s neck, the act causing the creature to salivate and gasp disgustingly.
Sawyer watched Wil struggle to sit up, pulling his pistol from its holster with his blood-soaked hand. The gaping wound in his arm spewed crimson as he shakily raised, aimed, and fired. The bullet struck the savage in the back of the neck, dropping his lifeless body to the floor.
“No!” Zander screamed, futilely attempting to staunch the blood spraying from his mentor’s wound. “Why did you do that?”
“Because he was going to eat you.” Wil panted and fell back onto the blood-soaked floor of the basement. “Not that you would have done the same for me, but you’re welcome.”
Zander stared down at his fallen caretaker with tears in his eyes. Sawyer felt a pang of sorrow for the man, but it quickly diminished as he finally managed to take a breath and crawl toward his best friend. The torn flesh hung in strips from Wil’s limb, bleeding profusely despite his and Sawyer’s best efforts to staunch the flow. “Let’s get you upstairs and patched up.”
“Right.” Wil’s face was pale and damp with sweat, already feeling the effects of blood loss and pain.
Sawyer supported his friend, allowing him to grab his discarded rifle before stepping into the stairwell. A growl from above drew his eyes to the light above, only to see it blocked out as the stairwell filled with snarling, hungry savages. Sawyer backed into the laboratory, slamming and locking the door. “No time for tears now, Zander. We have to go.” Sawyer grabbed the mourning man by the elbow, pulling him toward the alternate exit.
“Why?” Zander questioned absently, his face showing a confusing mix of pain and regret.
Sawyer didn’t need to answer as the hoard on the stairs met the door, their combined weight bowing the metal and threatening to release the hinges and locks of its edges. “Go!” Sawyer ordered.
Zander rushed to the rear exit, waiting for Sawyer to help Wil stumble through the door before closing and locking it behind them. Sawyer dragged Wil up the narrow stairs, winded and aching from his own injuries by the time they reached daylight beyond. “Keep going, Zander.”
“No, you can’t carry him by yourself; you’re hurt too.” Zander took Wil’s other side, offering his own strength to increase their speed.
They fled around the building to where the all-terrain vehicle rested several yards away. Sawyer pressed the release on the panel next to the exterior bulkhead and drug his companions inside. He closed the door behind them, looking out the nearest circular window to ensure they weren’t followed, before turning to help Zander place Wil on a bench seat in the passenger area. “We need to find a first aid kit or something.” Sawyer looked around him frantically.
“There’s one in the cockpit; under the pilot’s chair.” Wil informed. “I saw it while I was making repairs.”
Sawyer bolted to retrieve the kit and returned, setting it on the bench at Wil’s side. Sawyer looked down at the kit and back up to Zander. “I think you might be better qualified for this.”
“Perhaps.” Zander studied the kit before selecting a large, flat, rubber strip and applying it as a tourniquet around Wil’s arm. Zander pressed a thick patch of gauze and tape against Wil’s wound. “The pressure dressing should stop the bleeding enough that I can take the tourniquet off – I can’t leave the tourniquet on for long without damaging his arm permanently – but this is going to need stitches.”
“Can you do it?” Sawyer asked, taking a moment to clarify for the man. “Can you stitch him up?”
“I have done it before, yes.” Zander nodded thoughtfully and rifled through the kit. “I do not see anything to use for sutures. I have equipment in my lab.”
“Well, getting in there might be an issue right now.” Sawyer commented ruefully, eyeing Wil’s bandages. “How long can he stay like this?”
“As little as possible. The sooner I can get him treated, the less risk for permanent damage.”
“I can get us back.” Wil mumbled his plans, attempting to stand, swaying for a moment before falling hard into his chair. “In a moment.”
“Stay still.” Sawyer moved to the operator’s chair, turning the ignition so the radio would have power and pulling the transmitter from its hold. “Mav, come in, over.” Sawyer spoke into the device, receiving static in response. “What’s wrong with it?"
“Nothing is wrong, it should even be set to the right frequency.” Wil insisted.
“Then, why isn’t it working?” Sawyer groaned.
“It will not reach your brother.” Zander stated softly.
“What?” Wil asked.
“What did you say?” Sawyer demanded.
“The range of the transports’ radios is only one mile. It will not reach the mining camp from here.” Zander’s calm was tainted by a tightness around his lips.
“You didn’t feel this was pertinent information, when you knew we were counting on the radio as our backup plan?” Sawyer stood, stalking closer to Zander with malice in his gray eyes.
“I did not see it as a problem.” Zander retreated from Sawyer’s threatening steps.
“How?” Sawyer nearly screamed the word.
“If Maverick were called, he would sever the connection between the Anastasis and the mining computer system, thus rendering this entire venture a waste.” Zander clarified, holding out his hands in plea for understanding.
“Zander?” Wil sighed heavily.
“Yes?”
“Remind me to beat your ass when I have two functional arms.” Wil requested with a dark, ironic chuckle.
Sawyer looked at his best friend, noting his color seemed to be returning as Zander’s administrations helped to staunch his blood loss. His anger at Zander faded as he focused on what needed to be done. “We need to get out of here. I’ll drive.”
“I would normally object, but I believe you might be better qualified right now.” Wil surrendered the pilot’s chair, moving back into the passenger area and claiming a seat.
The engines were thankfully quiet, allowing them to pull away from the laboratory without notice and slip between a couple of ruined buildings. Sawyer kept an eye out the rear of the transport, anxiously looking for any sign of being followed. He didn’t draw easy breath until the line of abandoned constructs and signs of previous habitation were mere memories in his rearview mirror. They were well over an hour into their journey before Sawyer was interrupted by Zander’s unsubtle clearing of his throat in the doorway behind him.
“I was able to remove the tourniq
uet and Wil is now resting.” Zander stepped hesitantly into the cockpit. “I want to apologize for earlier. I am aware it is my actions which contributed to Wil being injured.”
“You were trying to protect your family, Zander. We understand that.” Sawyer assured, keeping his eyes on the mountainous landscape ahead of him. Silence fell between them, broken only by the low, steady hum of the transport’s engines and the occasional shift or grunt from Wil where he rested in the passenger area. Sawyer felt eyes on him. “What’s on your mind, Zander?”
“I did not neglect to inform you of the radio capability for fear of its use or with any intent to place you or your family in peril.” Zander assured seriously. “I did not believe it would be necessary to use it at all. Despite the odds against you, somehow you and your family seem to find a way to make things work. I hoped that would be the case here.”
“Well, I guess we did make it work in the end, so no harm done.” Sawyer forgave the man his negligence.
“I envy you.” Zander whispered.
“Why?” Sawyer scoffed. “You’re much smarter than I’ll ever be.”
“A person with big dreams is more powerful than one with all the facts. Your dreams led you to the stars; to hope and a new beginning. Where have my facts gotten me? An abandoned laboratory. And worse, I was content with that.” Zander sighed.
“Was? Does that mean you’ll come with us?” Sawyer spared a momentary glance over his shoulder at the sad man standing behind.
“If the offer still stands, then yes. There may be nothing for me among the stars, but I know there is nothing for me here.” Zander’s voice lowered to a mere whisper as he continued. “For the first time since I was a child, I don’t know. I don’t know what to do or where to go; I don’t know what will happen today or tomorrow. I’m alone and I don’t like it any more now than then.”
“You aren’t alone.” Wil groaned from the other room. “You have us.”
Sawyer smiled as Zander stepped back into the other room to question the injured man who spoke. “You claimed you wished to ‘beat my ass’.”
“Well, yeah, but I want to beat Sawyer’s ass on a daily basis and he’s my best friend.” Wil chuckled. “Hellfire, I want to kick Maverick’s ass way more often, but he’s like my kid brother. I love him.”
“I do not understand.” Zander’s brow lowered and he shook his head.
“We’re all the same – you and us. My family left the planet without me; they didn’t even look for me before they bailed. Sawyer’s father was a trus, a coward, who drank himself to death. Nobody wanted any of us. We chose our family, just like you. All of us rejects have to stick together.” Wil insisted.
“You aren’t alone. We’re your family now, Zander.” Sawyer simplified.
“I do not know how to respond to this.” Zander admitted huskily.
“You don’t have to respond. You don’t have to say anything at all.” Sawyer promised.
Taking his advice to heart, Zander remained silent and reclaimed a seat in the passenger area of the transport. The remainder of their journey was spent in this same silence. The sun was cresting the horizon when the mining camp came into view. “We’re almost back.” Sawyer informed his companions.
“We only have a few minutes of daylight left. You made good time, Sawyer.” Wil glanced out his window.
“Maybe I should be the pilot.” Sawyer joked, enjoying Wil’s glare in response. He sighed and unstrapped his harness before moving to help Wil stand. “Let’s get you to the med bay.”
Sawyer supported as much of Wil’s weight as his tender ribs and throbbing head could endure. The arid heat instantly dehydrated Sawyer – the added weight of his friend increasing his discomfort – but he persevered until Zander caught up and took Wil’s other side.
The mining camp looked just as Sawyer remembered – desolate, darkened, and deserted – save for the light emanating from the opened doors and windows of the main building. The maze of wires across the compound were condensed to a single wire connecting the Anastasis to the bunker. The shadows cast by the building’s light shifted and warped, forming a moving outline moving closer to the waning daylight.
Maverick stepped from the shadows, revealing a long, metal pipe in his left hand and a small knife in his right, as though prepared to defend himself. Maverick dropped his chosen weapons and approached, slowly at first, eventually running toward them to take Sawyer’s place at Wil’s side. “What in hellfire?”
“What happened to you?” Maverick looked from Sawyer to Wil.
“Long story short, Zander’s boss got out of his cage and was really, really hungry.” Wil chuckled at his joke, leaning heavily on his supports.
“Why was he in a cage?” Maverick questioned with a confused blink of his gray eyes.
“He was sick.” Zander swiped his free hand across the sweat leaking from his forehead.
“He was sick, so you put him in a cage?” Maverick was still not grasping the information.
“He was ill with Alien Disorder.” Zander stated calmly. “It seemed the safest place for him.”
“He was a savage?” Maverick asked with wide eyes. “And, what? You were keeping him as a pet?”
“He was not a pet.” Zander growled at the familiar accusation. “I hoped to heal him.”
“We don’t have time for this.” Sawyer sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “We need to go.”
“Right, let’s get him to the med bay.” Maverick nodded.
“We can handle this.” Sawyer nodded for Zander to continue into the opened cargo door of the Anastasis, leaving Wil’s care to the taller, medically experienced man.
Sawyer pulled the portable computer from his thigh pocket, holding it out to Maverick. “I’m not sure if it works, we didn’t have time to check.”
“It looks intact.” Maverick handled the device cautiously.
“See what you can do with it. I want to get whatever information we can and get out of here.” Sawyer informed.
“What about you?” Maverick nodded toward Sawyer’s scuffed head.
“I’ll be fine.” Sawyer shook his head carefully. “I’m going to load up the supplies we collected and check on Wil, then I’ll come down and see what you found.”
Maverick nodded reluctantly and disappeared into the shadows of the bunker. Sawyer returned to the transport, picking up the boxes Wil loaded before their mission was interrupted. The box of food and water was overflowing with extra choices and another crate was filled with rifles and ammunition. Sawyer struggled to lift each box in turn and carry them into the cargo hold. He opened the secret compartment holding the pulse weapon he and Wil confiscated from Alpha Sect. The lights in the cargo hold hit the shining body of the rifle, glaring at him as he shoved the crate of weapons and the box of ore beside it. Slamming the grate back in place, Sawyer shouldered the crate of food and hurried toward the medical bay, anxious to check on Wil’s condition.
Chapter 4. Adapt
“Damnation, Zander, that hurts!” Sawyer heard Wil’s shout from across the gallery as he dropped the box of food and water in the kitchenette.
“If you would hold still, I would have finished by now.” Zander growled with poorly hidden frustration, slipping a needle and sutures through Wil’s torn flesh.
“It hurts!” Wil argued with a glare at the man looming over his arm.
“The painkillers will work in a few minutes.” Zander promised.
“Then wait until they kick in!”
“We’ve waited too long as is.” Zander growled.
“How’s it going?” Sawyer leaned heavily against the doorway.
“I’m fine, but doc here is a sadist.” Wil accused hotly.
“First, that accusation is completely unwarranted. Second, I am not a doctor. And third, if you keep moving, I will not be held accountable for the quality of my work.” Zander turned to look at Sawyer. “I am adept at sutures, but his constant movement makes my work look as if done by some unskilled bru
te.”
“It will be fine, Zander.” Sawyer felt the strain of his own injuries pressing through his waning adrenalin. He was certain he was concussed and had a couple broken ribs. “What did you give him for pain?”
Zander held out a bottle of painkillers, of which Sawyer quickly swallowed three. They scraped along his dry throat reluctantly and he swallowed several times to force them down. “When you’re up to it, get the ship ready to fly. I’m going to get Mav and we’re out of here.”
“What about the survivors?” Zander asked with a stricken expression on his face.
“Wil is bleeding all over the floor and my ass is kicked. I don’t think any of us need to go looking for survivors who may or may not exist in a partially collapsed mine. I’m not about to send my kid brother down there alone.” Sawyer ran a hand through his hair with a sigh. “We will look at what Mav finds, but if there isn’t a neon sign saying, ‘survivors in here’, we’re leaving.”
“We had an agreement.” Zander reminded.
“And, I’m saying our agreement is finished. I brought you to the mines, it’s collapsed, we’re done. I’m not going to put my family in danger for a bunch of ghosts.” Sawyer ignored the tremor in Zander’s lip, turning and stalking from the med bay. He wanted to help his new friend – wanted to be the hero for his brother and Zander to find a ton of survivors – but it wasn’t worth the lives of the only people who mattered.
“You promised.” Zander’s ragged voice echoed across the corridor from the med bay, chasing Sawyer from the Anastasis.
The bunker was surprisingly clean if one looked past the layer of dust on the surfaces Maverick hadn’t used. The wires and cords which before posed a serious risk of tripping were missing and the computer desk was clear with the monitor showing a home screen for the mines, an Administration logo at its center. Sawyer glared at the simple mark – the letter ‘A’ sitting atop a circular ‘planet’. Turning from the screen, Sawyer called out for his brother.
