Fallen from Grace

by Merry Farmer

  His settlement was in a state of pure chaos. Three of the cabins were on fire, flames roaring as loud as the combatants around them. His friends worked to extinguish the fires by shoveling snow at them while simultaneously fighting off the attacks of Kutrosky’s marauders. The click and thrum of bows and crossbows being fired split the air now and then along with the crack of whips, but most of the combat was hand to hand, clubs and knives, shovels doubling as spears and shields.

  Kinn’s soldiers fought alongside the likes of Alvin, Dave, and Beth, their strength and training overwhelmed by the mad fury of desperation that drove Kutrosky’s men to fight to the death.

  A ragged man with blood streaking his face, teeth bared in a snarl, smashed a soldier in the head with a studded club, then turned to swing at Danny. Danny leapt back, sheltering the baby under his coat. Kutrosky’s man shouted in wordless fury and swung again. Danny scrambled away until he hit a prone body and spilled backward into the drifted snow. Kutrosky’s man raised his club over his head, mouth wide in one long cry of triumph. Gun still in hand, Danny closed his arms around the baby and rolled to his side.

  A twang and a thump, and the man’s wild shouting stopped. Danny heard him hit the ground, then twisted to see Heather standing over him, chest heaving with effort, hair wild around her, crossbow in one hand. Kutrosky’s man lay at her feet in a pool of red, a crossbow bolt in his neck.

  “Danny!” Heather screamed, the image of an Amazon warrior dissolving into a frightened teenager. “Danny!” she repeated in a panic, eyes huge.

  He kept one arm around the wailing baby as he struggled to push himself to his feet. Heather gathered herself enough to reach down to give him a hand up.

  “Thank God you’re here,” she panted before he could say a word. Tears and blood streaked her sweaty, sooty face. “There are more of them than we thought. They’re all crazy. They don’t care who they kill. Kutrosky is burning stuff down looking for his transmitter.”

  “I have it,” Danny told her. He squinted at the chaos roaring around him. Grace’s flame-red hair stood out against the forest. She was moving closer, ignoring his order.

  He lunged to intercept her, to drag her back to safety if he had to, but two men locked in struggle tumbled across his path, blocking him, Sean and a wild-eyed man with a wolf’s hide as a parka and its skull as his helmet. The wolf man held a knife and all of Sean’s focus was locked on disarming him. They heaved across the path as Sean crashed a fist across the man’s face. They flashed out of Danny’s clear focus too quickly for him to do anything about it.

  “Watch out!” Heather shouted.

  Danny jumped and pivoted in time to dodge one of the soldiers charging at him. The soldier skidded, twisting to bring his crossbow around, aimed at Danny’s head.

  “Stop!” Heather shouted. “That’s Danny.”

  The soldier’s eyes widened, but his face remained locked in a mask of combat. Danny pushed the hood of his coat back to show his face. The soldier nodded and moved on.

  “Where is Kutrosky?” Danny asked Heather. He closed the distance between them. She grabbed his arms and stared with confusion at the wailing bulge in his coat. “Heather,” he prompted her.

  “I don’t know,” she said. Her eyes snapped back to his, terrified. “They attacked so suddenly and they all had their faces covered when they started. They went for the cabins. He might be at the pavilion.”

  Danny nodded and hurried on toward the center of the settlement, Heather following. She kept her crossbow at the ready. Another roaring crack split the air as flames burst through the roof of one of the cabins. Rhiannon, her baby in her arms, burst out the front door and ran for cover.

  The corner of the pavilion was in flames. Black smoke rose from the sides and center of the structure. The heat of fire mingled with the pitched battles of man on man raging around it. Danny ran toward it, regardless of his own safety, but sheltering the baby against him.

  “Watch out! The corner is about to fall!” Sean warned them as he bounded across the muddied snow to join them.

  Danny nodded, but kept going.

  “Kutrosky!” he shouted. Snow had been scattered and churned in every direction, dragging down his feet as he dashed around the perimeter of the pavilion.

  He ducked to avoid two men fighting. Heather shrieked behind him as they skittered across packed snow. Sean attacked a man rushing toward them, pushing him aside. It could have been Kutrosky’s man or a soldier. In furs and parkas, soldiers and renegades all looked the same. Danny searched wildly for any sign of Kutrosky in the mix. Heather fired her crossbow once, but he didn’t see what she aimed at or whether she hit.

  “Kutrosky! I have the transmitter.”

  Grace was by his side an instant later. Of course she would fly into the center of turmoil without a thought for herself and against his direct order. Heather danced between the two of them, protecting both with her crossbow, firing when anyone came near them, while Sean cleared the way in front of them.

  “Brian!” Grace called into the roiling battle. “Brian Kutrosky!”

  “Danny! Grace!” Stacey rushed to them from the other side of the pavilion where she worked with two of the soldiers to put the flames out. Soot smudged her face and her eyes shone with fury and purpose. “He’s over there.”

  Danny whipped around the edge of the pavilion to see Kutrosky wielding a crossbow, pointing and shooting at anything that could move. He let a bolt fly. It nicked the shoulder of one of his own men as he struggled with one of Kinn’s soldiers. His bald head glistened red with sweat as he reached into the quiver over his shoulder to reload.

  “Kutrosky!” Danny screamed. He let go of the baby, who sagged in the sack against his chest, and fumbled for the transmitter in his pocket. The cold metal stung his hands as he closed his fist around it.

  Kutrosky saw him. His eyes narrowed across the distance. He fit a bolt into his crossbow and raised it.

  “Stop, Brian!” Grace shouted, her voice a feeble cry against the clash of battle. “This is madness.”

  “Vengeance is coming,” Kutrosky shouted in reply. “It’s coming for you, Daniel Thorne.” He raised the crossbow to aim.

  “No!” Grace yelped. The crossbow snapped and the bolt zinged past Grace’s shoulder, missing her by a breath and ripping the covering on the pavilion behind her.

  Fury warred with determination in Danny’s chest. It had to stop. The fighting, the turmoil, the destruction. All of it had to stop. He held both the transmitter and the gun in the air above his head. He fired the gun.

  The sharp crack of gunfire silenced the combatants. Like a ripple spreading away from the familiar, deadly sound, they all paused. Some twisted in panic, some jumped or shrank under the well-known signal of certain death. It was something out of a memory, a nightmare. In a heartbeat the settlement went still. The muffled sound of Grace’s son crying with all he had was the only human answer to the gunfire.

  “I have your transmitter,” Danny shouted across the smoking, ravished settlement. Dozens of sets of eyes trained on him, frightened, murderous, hungry, hopeful. “Tell your men to put down their weapons and I’ll give it to you.”

  “Danny, no,” Grace staggered up to him, wide-eyed and pale. “You can’t just give it to him. Not after everything we’ve been though.”

  “She’s right,” Sean agreed.

  “If I don’t, he’ll just keep killing people,” Danny argued, gaze locked with Kutrosky’s. “No one can die. If we have any hope at all of creating a better world than the one we came from, no matter what threatens it and no matter where that threat comes from, no one can die.”

  Kutrosky twitched and stood straighter. His eyes were fixed in fear on the gun and the transmitter. With stumbling steps, he left his vantage point, threw down his crossbow, and advanced across the churned snow toward Danny.

  “Lower your weapons,” Kutrosky ordered his men. “Stay right where you are.”

  Confused, eyes wild, some of his men obey
ed while others continued to clutch their bows and knives and whips as they searched for a way out. The soldiers closed ranks, whatever weapons they still had drawn as they advanced in on the scene, closing off all means of retreat. Within seconds, the perimeter was secured.

  Danny surveyed the scene, weighing whether it was worth the argument to demand everyone lower their weapons or whether the show of power by his people and the soldiers was all they had to control the renegades. His people and Kinn’s alike looked to him for orders, ready to follow whatever commands he gave. The transmitter and the gun held above him were the fate of every one of them.

  “Hold your positions,” he gave the order. “No one dies, but no one moves.”

  The soldiers seemed to understand. They closed in on Kutrosky’s men, weapons lowered but ready.

  “Give me the transmitter,” Kutrosky demanded, closing the distance between them.

  Danny lowered the gun to point at Kutrosky’s heart. “No.”

  He stared with steely determination at the man who was the cause of so much death and destruction. His heart slammed against his ribs, but his hand was steady, his aim true. One squeeze of his finger and it could all be over.

  “Give it to me,” Kutrosky shouted.

  “Danny.” Grace’s pleading whisper was loud in his ear.

  “You give the beacon to me,” Danny said. He tightened his grip on the gun.

  The two of them stood face to face, locked in a silent combat of wills. The crackle of flames and shoveling of the men and women still trying to put them out were the only thing that split the silence. All eyes were on them.

  “Give me the beacon or I will pull the trigger,” Danny demanded. Calm certainty flooded through him.

  “You wouldn’t dare.” Kutrosky narrowed his eyes, extending his arm and pointing a finger at the gun trained on him. “You don’t have the guts to kill anyone.”

  “I’ve already killed hundreds of people because of you.” Danny’s voice wavered. The baby squirmed in the sack under his coat, kicking and flailing. Did he really want Grace’s son, his son to grow up in a world where Kutrosky lived and breathed and spread his madness?

  “Snuffing hundreds of lives with a flick of a switch is nothing.” Kutrosky taunted him. “It’s different when you’re looking someone in the eye, isn’t it?” A sly grin split his face. He flicked his head to the transmitter. “I could take that right out of your hands and you wouldn’t do a thing to stop me because you’re a coward, Daniel Thorne. You’re a coward who hides behind programs and protocol, just like every other puppet master in The Terra Project.”

  “The Project is over,” Danny said, Grace’s words ringing in his heart. “It’s a faulty strategy that blew up the moment your murderous plan was set in motion. It died the moment we crashed on this moon. This is our world now, and I will not let it begin like this.”

  “Then you’re a coward and a fool,” Kutrosky spat at him. “You think you’re building a paradise here? How long? How long will it take before one of your own twists it back on you and pulls the same strings you pulled to bring us all here?”

  He stepped closer, close enough for Danny to see him clearly. The light in Kutrosky’s eyes burned hot with hatred.

  “Whose baby is that shrieking like a demon, huh?” Kutrosky went on, gesturing to the writhing lump under Danny’s coat. “Whose child did Grace give birth to after all? Was that part of your grand plan? Was that what you killed all those people for? That whelp?”

  “He’s mine,” Danny said with finality. “He always will be.”

  “Tell that to his father,” Kutrosky sneered. “Or will you kill him, too?”

  “Kinn is—”

  With a sudden jerk, Kutrosky lunged at Danny, reaching over his head to snatch at the transmitter.

  Danny fired. The bullet grazed Kutrosky’s side. Kutrosky staggered back, shouting with rage. Heather screamed and Kutrosky’s men raised what weapons they had and launched at their attackers. The soldiers were ready for them and leapt to tackle or subdue as many as they could. Sean jumped after Kutrosky, catching him around the chest and holding him to his spot.

  “Give me the beacon,” Danny demanded. He rounded on Kutrosky, keeping the gun trained on his head.

  “What, so you can destroy it?” Kutrosky bit back. He struggled in vain to get out of Sean’s grip.

  “Hand it over now,” Danny said.

  “It’s too late. The ship is already in orbit. Even if you do contact them—”

  Danny fired again, aiming for his leg this time. Kutrosky howled, tumbling to the side, snow stained red around him. Sean went down with him, pinning him and pressing him to lie on his back.

  “I have one more bullet in this gun.” Danny stood over Kutrosky, gun aimed at his head. “The last bullet on this entire moon. Whether it has your name on it or not is up to you. Hand over the beacon.”

  Kutrosky panted and glared up at him, teeth bared as he worked up the energy to spit out a retort. He didn’t have the chance. Sean shoved him, rolling him over and wrenching his arms back. Heather rushed to join him and grabbed the quiver of crossbow bolts and the backpack he wore, tearing them off. She ripped into the backpack and took out the beacon, then scrambled across the snow to hand it to Danny.

  Even Kutrosky’s men stopped fighting back against the soldiers that held them. They stared at Danny, at the beacon that had been held over their heads as a threat and a promise for months. It flashed in the sunlight, out of place amidst the log cabins and fur parkas and primitive weapons as a reminder of what once was.

  Danny took the beacon from Heather. He flipped the transmitter in his hand and slammed it into its socket. The entire settlement held its breath as the screen flashed to life, glowing blue and green with otherworldly brightness. Code skittered past as the transmitter synchronized with the handheld. The once familiar hum of static and electronic pings sounded through the snowbound settlement. The grid on the screen settled to a vectored diagram of their moon, a flashing dot circling it.

  “Hello! Hello!” Danny shouted at the beacon. “Is anybody out there?”

  The static undulated, focusing. The crackling disappeared, to be replaced by the faint hum of background noise that had been pervasive on the transport ship. Grace pulled herself to Danny’s side, clutching his arm.

  “Who is this?” a voice spoke into the hushed silence.

  “This is Dr. Daniel Thorne. Who am I speaking to?”

  Silence followed.

  “This is Marcus Blalock, commander of Vengeance. What is your location?”

  “We are on an unnamed moon orbiting Chronis. I have reason to believe you are in orbit around that same moon. Can you locate the signal from this beacon? Do you know where we are?”

  Grace’s eyes widened at his question and she shook her head.

  “We’re pinpointing the location of the beacon now.” There was a slight pause before the voice came back. “We have you located. We’re fifteen thousand kilometers away from your position and closing. Where is Brian Kutrosky?”

  Kutrosky started to shout but Sean slapped a hand over his mouth and pulled his head back.

  Danny stared straight into Kutrosky’s frantic eyes. “Brian Kutrosky is dead.”

  Chapter Thirteen – The Crash

  A long, crackling silence followed. The beacon flashed, the dot on the screen moving faster, deliberately. The voice was gone.

  A beat later, Kutrosky struggled against Sean, straining to break free in spite of his injured side and leg. His eyes bulged as he stared at the beacon in Danny’s hands. He bit Sean’s finger, causing Sean to pull his hand back for a few seconds.

  “Help! Marcus, help me!” Kutrosky shouted. Stacey bounded across the chipped ice and snow to help Sean wrestle him to his back. She punched him square in the face before he could call out again.

  “Bastard,” she shouted, kneeling on his shoulder. “Shut up! This is my life, my son’s life. I won’t let you destroy it.”

  “Th
at’s what he wants,” Grace said. “It’s what he’s always wanted. To destroy lives.”

  Kutrosky managed one more thick and bloody “Help!” before Sean clamped his hand over his mouth again.

  “Hello?” Danny spoke to the beacon, eyes fixed on Kutrosky’s struggles. “Are you still there?”

  The static wavered. Kutrosky went still, listening. The voice returned.

  “We should be over your location in twenty minutes.”

  A ripple of terrified excitement flew through the settlement. Kutrosky’s people twitched to stare at the sky, eyes wide with wonder. Grace clutched Danny’s arm as the baby cried and flailed under his coat.

  “We do not wish to be rescued,” Danny told the beacon, heart pounding. “Do you hear me? We want to be left alone to establish a peaceful colony here.”

  Another long silence followed. Kutrosky’s struggling renewed. His face went red and his eyes huge as he panted, trying to shout through Sean’s hand. A few soldiers and settlers inched forward, waiting.

  The beacon crackled to life.

  “I don’t give a shit what you want, Dr. Thorne,” came the response. “That jackass Kutrosky sent us on a wild goose chase to the middle of nowhere. This damn planet has interfered with our power generators and we’re out of fuel. We have to land and we have to land now.”

  Silence followed.

  Danny blinked as the realization hit him. It was over. There was no going back. For any of them. Numbness spread along his fingers and toes. He couldn’t breathe. A wave of giddy elation bubbled through his chest, made him light-headed. Vengeance was out of fuel. Even if it did find them, they were stranded too. All of them were stranded on the moon for good. They were home.

  He recovered himself in time to say, “It’s winter in our location. You don’t want to land here. You’d do better looking for a landing site on the opposite hemisphere. Not that we have any clue what’s down there,” he added. He couldn’t stop the laughter that met the thought. There could be oceans and beaches somewhere. Tropics, jungles, deserts and mountain ranges. They would have generations to explore and discover. They were free.