Planet Kill

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Planet Kill Page 15

by Sebastian Wilde


  When it was over, she hoped to be able to stop by the fortress and talk with the Dark Mark. Fireshot’s forces would be long gone, dealing with the death of their master or preparing for the arrival of the recruits. Letha wanted answers and possibly a refund of the money she’d paid the woman to see that Fireshot was incapacitated. It seemed only fair.

  Rodrigo had been put in charge of navigation. Aero and his group took up the rear. When they broke for food and water, he would pull up the screen via his wristband to confirm they were on track. This month’s Reckoning Day landing was closer to Letha’s base than it had been for quite some time. This was both good and bad.

  She didn’t have to travel days to reach the spot, arriving exhausted and leaving her base undefended. In theory, she could use that as part of her strategy. Letha could lead her team to take over someone else’s base instead of gathering recruits. Sometimes armies would do this to capture an upgrade station.

  However, smart groups, like Letha’s, left plenty of traps. They carried their valuable gear with them and would be ready for enemy fighters upon their return.

  This led to the problem of being so close. New recruits occasionally formed quick alliances with each other before landing. They scattered once they left the ship, doing whatever they could to live. If the groups found nearby bases, they usually would try to hide there and try to take it by force, as if they were actual people of importance.

  Inevitably, they would die, either in the traps or as soon as the more experienced teams found them, but retaking a base after a full night of recruiting and fighting other armies was a big pain in the ass.

  At one point, Aero jogged up and told her he had spotted a couple of men watching in the distance.

  “Spies?” She asked.

  He shrugged. “I wasn’t sure. Regardless, I sent Nurse and a couple others to check it out, and then the lurkers ran off.”

  “It makes sense. Fireshot wants to know where we are,” Letha replied. “Keep a lookout, in case they attempt an ambush.”

  “Roger that.” He lingered, then suggested, “At Reckoning, our best chances will be to split up, have each side gather as many recruits as they can, then pair back up.”

  “Agreed. Fireshot will be dead, so nothing to worry about there.”

  “Is that so?” He glanced over at her with the faintest smile.

  She nodded and replied with a grunt. Was it possible Fireshot would win this duel? Sure, but that wasn’t a possibility she was willing to consider. Aero took her silence as his cue to fall back.

  After marching for a few hours, they reached the spot. They’d passed through desert territory, seen other teams in the distance, but had not bothered with each other. It was rare that an army would look for conflict the day recruits arrived. One wrong move could take their numbers down too far, and then they’d be little better off than the recruits.

  The days following Reckoning Day—those were the exciting ones.

  Letha found a flat surface among otherwise steep boulders. She could see why this location had been chosen, and the blood of past combatants still stained the jagged edges of the rocks. Stretching, she beckoned Brink over to her.

  “Warm up?” he asked.

  She did one more trunk twist, cracked her neck, and then nodded. “Keep some scouts on the lookout, but otherwise I want everyone staying limber. Light sparring, got it?”

  He gave the command, then walked back to her and took up a defensive stance. She bounded toward him, careful not to exert herself too much, and they engaged in light hand-to-hand. The combat with Fireshot could be over with a single bullet, but fights were unpredictable. Letha had to be prepared for all eventualities.

  The sparring continued even as gray clouds swept in. The air smelled of a storm, but a quick look at the sky convinced Letha it would be mild. No hurricanes this time. She’d heard of one army that had tried to seek shelter from the fighting on an island. They had rowed out there, hoping that the Warden would let them get away with it. A storm had kicked up, toppling trees on them and dashing their heads into the rocks. An earthquake had followed, one that resulted in a tsunami. Both the island and the small army were wiped out in the midst of a wild orgy.

  Sometimes nature itself could be as cruel as Fireshot, sometimes even worse.

  It wasn’t until the rain and crazy winds died down and were replaced by a calm breeze that tasted of sweat and tears that Letha gave the order for everyone to take a break.

  “Rodrigo, check in.” Letha approached the short man, who tipped his cowboy hat to her and said, “I just did, ma’am. Not only is your boy late, but the recruits are scheduled to arrive within the hour.”

  Brink strolled up with Kale right behind him. Trunk and Redwood listened in nearby while they replenished themselves.

  “No way would Fireshot take this hit,” Kale said, shaking his head. “Maybe he got waylaid or something? You know, way laid, like laid so much that he couldn’t move, or totally forgot.” He giggled a little at his own pun.

  “Not in the mood for jokes,” Letha replied, then asked Brink, “He wouldn’t have blown it off, right?”

  “Rodrigo,” Brink said, “what’s at stake?”

  “Nobody backs out after accepting,” Rodrigo said, confusion and doubt heavy in his voice. He pulled up the screen and flipped it over with a flourish of his hand. “Right, you’d have to be an idiot to pull out.”

  “Pulling out never wor—” Kale started, but Letha whirled to face him.

  “What the fuck did I just say?” she asked, then spun back to Rodrigo. “Where is this shit stain, and what do the rules say about no-shows?”

  Rodrigo smiled when he said, “First, it means you win. You get the credits bid.”

  “No shit?” That actually caught her off guard. “But… not the shield?”

  “Unfortunately, no.” He scrolled through the screen. “It also means the bidding viewers spent their money and didn’t get to see a death, so they’re going to be out for blood, one hundred percent against Fireshot. Essentially, the game masters have promised matching funds to whoever takes out Fireshot in an exciting way for the viewers to see.”

  “The dickweed just signed his own death warrant,” Kale said with a smirk.

  “And we could be the ones to collect,” Brink added. “A double payday.”

  “Still, I wanted that shield,” Letha said. “Or, dammit, if I could get my hands on an air strike and scanner, this whole war could go differently.” She inspected the rocky hills, analyzing them for any signs of an ambush or late arrival. “Of course, you realize what this means?”

  Kale frowned, not sure, but Brink nodded.

  “He’s given this up with the expectation that he can get something better,” Brink said. “He’s making a big strike right now, hoping that setting us up like this gives him the advantage needed to take us out.”

  She nodded. “Any of his new allies might take the contract for his head, but if he’s promising our death, they might see that as more valuable. At least, in the short term.”

  Brink nodded. “And he’s probably amassing them at the recruit arrival location, ensuring nobody else has a chance.”

  “Pete’s Dragon won’t like that,” Kale said. “Unless, like Grinder….”

  “No, the Dragon accepts no equals,” Letha argued. “An alliance would be out of the question, and he sure as shit wouldn’t follow Fireshot.”

  “Maybe we can use that,” Brink suggested. “I mean, that crazy old fart won’t join us either, but we can hope he’d take the brunt of the attack, or deal enough damage that we can do some damage too.”

  “I might have an in with the Dragon,” Aero said, glancing at Nurse. She avoided his gaze, and Letha was curious about that casual remark. She’d have to remember to ask him about it later.

  Letha scrutinized her few people, nodding. The extra credits would help, and if she could still take out Fireshot, she’d double the reward. For the first time in a while, she was getting nervous
. He’d pulled one over on her with the Dark Mark, and now this? He clearly had big plans, and she was going to have to play it safe.

  “Keep your heads up,” she told her team, at first ignoring the drone cameras that flew overhead, obviously focusing on her. Then she had a thought. This was the perfect time to call him out, to boost her own rankings. Letha would remind the viewers back home why she was a heroine, and why Fireshot was the piece of shit they should all watch out for when walking down the street.

  With this in mind, she hopped up onto one of the rocks and slung her rifle over her shoulder. Striking a pose, she called out to her team, “Nobody said this shit was going to be easy. You all are here to make something of yourselves, to prove to the universe that you were meant for greatness. Well, you know who isn’t? A chickenshit, fuckface like Fireshot. This asswipe couldn’t even show up to face me?”

  Now she laughed into the camera, a loud, boisterous laugh. “You all want to see a show? Ooooh, I can’t wait to show you what I have in store for Fireshot. Remember the legendary days of Mantis? Remember the way she would make you all cream your jeans? Well, put on your panty liners, boys and girls, shit’s about to get all kinds of slippery up in here.”

  With that she snarled like a tiger and winked at the closest camera. Then she hopped off the rock and started walking.

  “Let’s go, team. We have some recruiting to do, a cowardly fucker to kill, and then I plan on hosting the wildest fuck-party the universe has ever seen.”

  Cheers rose up from her followers, and Aero nodded in approval. In Letha’s mind, the cheers of viewers from around the universe filled the houses, bars, and strip clubs where everyone was watching. If anyone hadn’t been tuning in before, word of mouth would soon spread. They sure as hell would be watching when this went down.

  When Letha wanted viewers, she got her damn viewers.

  16

  The Arrival

  Transport Ship: Reckoning Day

  Black-light alarms blinked on and off in the sleeping chambers. Piercing horn blasts filled everyone’s ears. The volunteers were summoned for their arrival, brought into a massive hangar, all in one place where the viewers back on the various planets and space stations could get one last look at the new recruits over a video feed. One last sizing up for the fans to assess which new arrivals would serve as good soldiers, which would provide value as objects of sexual desire, and which would need to be killed immediately to prevent them from becoming future threats. More importantly, the viewers could decide which ones would be fun to watch kill, fuck, or die.

  Cameras floated above, connected to hovering drones. They snapped photos as they flew around the hangar bay. Both Pierce and the young woman who’d help him find a spot to rest were photographed. Somebody had eyes on them.

  It felt like they were in a meat market and customers were inspecting the goods before a feast. That was an eerie and uncomfortable feeling on its own, but Pierce knew from his research, that part of the reason for Reckoning Day was to bring the different harems and sects out of hiding. The new volunteers gave them a reason to fight, making for higher ratings and better entertainment. The Wardens knew what they were doing when it came to creating conflict.

  The recruits were instructed over the loudspeaker to strap in for their final descent into the planet’s atmosphere. Pierce snuck a look at the other passengers for what that meant, considering there were no chairs for them to strap their bodies into. Everyone was reaching down to the floor, pulling webbing up, and tying themselves down like loose crates.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” he muttered. “This part’s not on any of the live feeds.”

  He noticed the young woman strapping in closest to him was smiling at his befuddlement. It was a silent laugh, but still annoying.

  Pierce scowled at her. “Laugh it up. I get it. We’re all Noobs, but I’m the worst offender. Useless ally I’m gonna make, right? I have barely a clue about the little things. Probably even less about the important shit.”

  She still didn’t say anything, however. Instead, she pursed her lips and tightened her straps.

  Pierce followed suit, bracing himself the best he could for a bumpy ride. It went by without incident, giving him time to anticipate the days ahead. He thought about everything he’d seen on the screens, all the death and nudity. What did it say of society that this was what they enjoyed watching? And more, what did it say of him that he was willing to go through all of it to find his wife?

  As the transport ship hurtled downward through the atmosphere, Pierce and his yet-to-be-named new friend rocked back and forth. There was no concern for the comfort of the passengers. Why bother? Half of them were going to be dead before dawn. The other half would need to toughen up if they were going to survive past sunrise. All that mattered during their descent was that they were alive long enough for their deaths to matter upon arrival on Planet Kill.

  Countless volunteers retched as their bodies tossed about within their straps. Vomit splashed over the deck and overpowered Pierce’s lingering stench from his trip through the sewage pipes.

  The transport ship landed with a loud thud, signaling that the fun was about to begin. The passengers untethered themselves, the hangar bay’s doors lowered, and the bright light of the new planet blinded them as it edged over the ramp and into their eyes.

  Several rushed out, eager to be the first chosen to join the ranks of powerful armies and harems with influence, strength, and protection. Most, however, held back to avoid death in the first wave of the slaughter.

  The girl with whom Pierce had shared food pulled him back and kept him separate from both the cowards and those eager to show they were worth acquiring. Instead, she rushed him off to the side of the ramp as the bloodbath began only inches away.

  “What are we doing?” Pierce asked. “We need to make allies.”

  She didn’t reply with words, but just an urgent expression. He finally figured out that she was unable to speak when her mouth gaped at the carnage taking place.

  Hundreds hurled themselves into the fray, hoping for a chance to fight, hoping to live, hoping for a better life. Most died before they got off the ramp. The established armies were taking the lives of the Noobs relentlessly, clearing the path to get to the ones who were deemed valuable.

  During the devastation, a thought kept intruding and distracting Pierce. How had his new friend become mute? Had she been abducted, like his wife? Was she born that way? Was it part of her defense? Was it a ploy? Had she done it to herself to survive a few minutes longer? He had no idea, but he needed to know. Full of questions, Pierce couldn’t help but voice his thoughts out loud. “How does one volunteer without a voice?”

  His words drew the young woman’s attention back from the gruesome sight of lives being ended. Her eyes bore into his. She pleaded with him to trust her and follow without words.

  The mute woman dropped off the edge of the ramp, and Pierce followed.

  17

  Nothing’s Off The Table

  Planet Kill, Field of Reckoning

  The transport ship had just touched down and already new recruits were spilling out and running like crazy. Letha still saw no sign of Fireshot or his crew. She’d staked out a good spot at a tree line with rows of rocks where she could dive for cover if necessary, but so far the action was staying toward the middle of the field.

  A few stragglers had run off screaming, some meeting quick deaths as snipers took them out for the fun of it and the quick experience points. Several teams had already dashed in, made contact, and slammed shackles on recruits they wanted. Others came in and fought the first group for the already-shackled recruits, while still others fought on the outskirts for the first rights as recruits sought out the best armies to join.

  One recruit tore off his clothes, shrieking in terror and madness, and bolted across the field. His dick stuck straight out and bobbed back and forth with each step. It was funny until he stopped in front of one of the female recruits and tried to
punch her.

  Apparently, this woman had made a couple of friends. A different woman caught the man’s arm and spun him around, throwing him to the ground. Yet another woman had a rock waiting to slam into his face. The first one jammed her heel into his exposed nut sack, again and again, matching the other’s blows.

  “Fuckkk me,” Brink said, watching the naked man go down. “We want them.”

  Letha nodded, giving him permission to make it happen. He chose two fighters and led the charge. It was time for Letha and the others to get out there. They sprinted downfield, watching as a Noob picked up a level five rifle and tried to shoot, only to have it blow up in his face.

  That was one way to learn, though he wouldn’t have a chance to apply the knowledge.

  Pete’s Dragon appeared on the far side of the field, shrieking and breathing fire with the help of some black-market goods he’d acquired, while his men formed a line. They all wore armor of an old style and looked like medieval fighters with guns.

  Letha spotted a crazy lady she’d seen around, but had never learned her name. With a screech, the woman flung herself at the Dragon and he caught her by the throat with metal hooks attached to wrist supports. A quick movement and she was down, but a wave of fighters blocked Letha’s view of what happened next.

  She scanned the hills past where the ship was already starting to lift off. Somewhere around here, Fireshot had to be waiting to make his move.

  “If you see Grinder, I want a chance at her first,” Trunk said, running alongside Letha. “Hoping to still earn my reward.”

  She laughed and peeked over at him as he removed his loincloth and tied it around his wrist.

 

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