Finally, he saw a man press the release, and the doors swung open. He helped people to their feet and out the sideways opening, onto the road. Flint groaned beneath him.
“Flint, are you injured?” Charles got off the man, who had a cut on the side of his face but was otherwise no worse for the wear.
“I think I’m okay. Wren? Wren, are you with us?!” Flint moved past Charles, climbing over sideways seats to the unconscious doctor.
Charles opened the door above him, climbing out. “Pass her to me,” he said, and watched as Flint struggled to carry Wren over to him. Charles leaned down, extending his arms as far as he could reach. The gun around his shoulder got in the way, and he wished he’d set it down. Still, he managed to prop Wren up, and he lifted her under her arms, up and out of the sideways bus.
Charles scanned, looking for the Watcher that had attacked them. He didn’t see anyone. Charles let Wren down on the side of the bus and helped Flint up.
“The rest have gone behind the bus,” Flint said, and Charles moved to the back of the bus, walking on the side of it in its current position. The forty or so people stared up at him, some bleeding, one likely dead.
“Get to the alley,” Charles ordered. One of them had a gun, and some had knives. Charles looked at the man with the most firepower. “You stay between them and this street. Understand?”
The man nodded, and Charles ran back to Flint. “Help me get her to the alley,” he said, and Flint obliged. Two minutes later, the entire group was hiding a block away from the damaged transport vehicle.
“What now?” Flint asked him.
“I saw him from the window before he fired. Let’s go on the attack,” Charles suggested.
Flint nodded grimly, swinging his gun into his hands. “Lead the way.”
Charles stared at the unconscious form of his friend and hoped she would pull through. He needed her, and the others did too.
He ran down the alley, cutting up a half-block, putting them out of sight of the Watcher who’d fired the ballistic weapon at them. Flint quietly followed behind him as they crossed the street, taking a moment to pause behind a monument in the middle of the road. When he was sure no one was looking, Charles kept moving. They were now on the same side of the street as the Watcher, but two blocks down.
“We’ll go another block and loop around behind him,” Charles said, receiving a nod from Flint. He took a moment to assess the man, and saw a beaten-up, bleeding figure who’d lost at least ten pounds in the last month during his captivity. He knew Flint was running on fumes, so they had to make this quick.
Charles paid little attention to his surroundings, except for searching for any signs of Watchers. His footsteps made little noise as he hurried down the sidewalk. Something moved in his periphery, and he turned to it, making out the distant form of an enemy. He pressed his back against a brick wall and motioned for Flint to do the same. He checked again and saw a second form.
Charles raised two metal fingers, and Flint nodded his understanding. When the Watchers a block away were behind a squat building, Charles started forward, ever chasing the targets. He hoped this wasn’t a trap leading their group’s two best fighters away from the rest of the humans.
They reached the corner where the Watchers had just been, and Charles peeked around the corner, only to find a thick two-digit hand flying toward his face. He quickly ducked, and the hand crunched against the side of the structure. The attacker grunted and kicked out, knocking Charles to the ground. Flint was there, shooting at the other Watcher; the sound of gunfire erupted all around Charles.
His opponent was on him. He said something, and Charles instantly translated it: “What is this? A metal man fighting?”
Charles couldn’t move as his legs were pinned down, his gun knocked to the side. He stretched, trying to grab the weapon’s strap, but couldn’t reach it. The Watcher’s arms clung to Charles’ body, trying to crush him. He panicked and rammed his hands forward, clinging to the enemy’s thick neck. The alien was surprised by the attack and tried to pull back, but Charles wouldn’t let go. He kept clenching, his fingers digging into skin. The Watcher started to flail his arms, pummeling Charles, but nothing would stop the android from choking him. It gasped, coughing and grunting, and soon, the head fell limply forward. Finally, Charles was able to shove the dead weight off himself and snatch the gun.
Flint was across the street, trading fire with the Watcher. Charles looked down to see his sides caved in. He was getting really tired of all of this. He’d already been rebuilt once and hated the Watchers for that. Charles held his gun up, taking careful aim as he stepped into the street, making an easy target of himself.
“Charles, no!” Flint yelled, but he didn’t need to concern himself with worrying. Charles pulled the trigger, sending a series of bullets at the last Watcher. They struck with impunity, sending the body flying back to eventually fall hard to the ground.
“Is that it?” Flint asked.
“They are the only ones I saw,” Charles said.
“Can you move?” Flint asked as he approached, staring at Charles’ damaged torso.
“I’ll be fine. Let’s get to the others and leave this place,” Charles said, wanting nothing more than to get off the colony.
A voice entered his ear software. It was Ace. “Charles, what’s happening down there?”
He spoke back. “We ran into some issues. We’re half a kilometer from the hangar, and if we have extinguished the last confrontation, we should be there shortly.”
“Good. I still don’t see anyone. Hurry. I have a bad feeling,” Ace said.
Charles wasn’t sure what constituted a “bad feeling,” but he thought he was going through the same sensation. “Me too. Watch your back, Ace.”
“Let’s go.” Flint was already taking the lead, running towards the spot where they’d left the rest of the group.
They arrived in a few minutes to find a solemn-looking bunch. Wren’s eyes were still closed, and a woman was crying beside a lifeless body. The man was dead, his head wound fatal.
“We need to leave. Everyone with us,” Flint said, and Charles once again picked up Wren as they started forward. There was no sense in wasting time hiding down alleys. This road would lead directly to the main hangar, where they’d hopefully find no opposition getting to the waiting freighter.
Charles slowed down, letting the others catch up as they fought through injuries, their malnourished bodies struggling to continue. He kept searching for Watchers, but they luckily didn’t find any as they neared the hangar.
“Flint, go in first and clear it before we enter,” Charles said, getting a look of bewilderment in return.
“Sure, send me in alone. Let’s just hope it’s empty. If I scream like a baby, you’ll know I’m dead.” Flint entered the building. It was a long minute before he came back. “Seems clear. Everyone inside,” he urged.
Five minutes later, Charles was running through the dome corridors leading to the hangar. Flint was ahead of him, and the man came to a sudden halt as they set foot inside the large open hangar. “You have to be kidding me,” he said.
Charles didn’t understand. “What’s the problem, Flint?”
The man turned to him, a huge grin spread out on his face. “This is my old ship. This is Perdita.”
Benson
“Just get the chief engineer up here. I don’t want to explain this twice,” Benson said, getting tired of the bridge crew’s petulance. He was here to help. Why couldn’t they see that?
“Fine, get Tomas here now,” Captain Barkley said. “If this is in any way a sabotage or a trick, you won’t be going to a cell. You’ll be going to your death in space. And I’m going to personally hit the airlock button.”
Benson shuddered. They really didn’t like him. Well, he could deal with that. Once he assisted their victory today, they’d feel differently.
A couple silent minutes later, Tomas entered the bridge and scowled at Benson. “So you’re the so
urce of all my trouble this last year, are you?”
Benson had met the man before, but he could tell he’d made a mark when he’d dismantled their Shift drive. He’d been impressed to hear that this man and the android had found a way around his bug.
“Listen to me, Tomas. We don’t have much time.” Benson went into the details of where to find the tractor features, and Harry Tsang sat in, soaking it all up with them. When Benson was done, he asked if they had questions.
“Has it been tested?” Tomas asked.
Benson didn’t think so, since they’d been keeping it to themselves. He really didn’t know Jarden’s reasoning for it, and he’d never be able to ask the old man. He shook his head in answer to the query.
Tomas crossed his arms. “Then we have to test it.”
Benson pointed to the huge viewscreen. “War’s upon us, my friend. They aren’t going to sit back for long. When they’ve destroyed the Earth Fleet on the surface, they’re coming for us here. We don’t have time for testing things.”
“Captain, I seriously suggest we test this first,” Tomas said.
Captain Barkley looked from man to man, and tapped her chin in thought. “I hate to say it, but Benson’s right. We need to move, and now. This is going to be over in an hour, if my gut’s accurate, and I think it is. We go immediately. Is Oliv on board?” she asked Junior Lieutenant Foggle, who nodded.
“She’s in Hangar Five awaiting orders,” he answered.
“Tell her to stay put in the fighter. We may need her. Foggle, we’re charged?” Barkley asked.
“Yes, ma’am. Coordinates set for five thousand kilometers from Phobos,” Foggle said.
Benson wanted to yell at them to move it along, but it wasn’t his place. He bit his tongue and waited impatiently. He walked over to the edge of the bridge, where Harry was standing again. “Here, take this and plug it in. It’ll tell us where Shadow is when we arrive,” Benson said, passing the small chip-device to the weapons officer.
Harry took it and plugged it into his console without comment.
“Engage the Shift drive,” Barkley said, and moments later, the image on the viewscreen changed. Benson could see the red planet in the distance, Phobos’ misshapen surface looming closer.
“Where is he?” the captain asked, and Harry pushed the radar shot to the bottom left of the viewscreen.
“It appears he’s in a junior vessel, heading between a freighter and his stolen Fleet corvette,” Harry Tsang said, and Benson grinned.
“Captain, we have him now. He’s moving from one ship to another. It’s as if the gods have seen our plight and have intervened on our behalf,” Benson said dramatically, and this time, no one argued.
“Take us there, Foggle! Now!” Benson could tell Heather was in fight or flight mode, and she was going to fight. He respected her for it.
Their ship raced toward Shadow’s ragtag fleet, which were spread out in the area, lazily hanging in space without a care in the world. Benson hated them at that moment. Earth was falling, and they could do something about it. Benson’s own attempt at parley with the Watchers had gone south, but in the end, he could only regret his own actions. Hindsight was often twenty-twenty.
The startled fleet took notice of the huge colony vessel heading toward them, and a few of the ships fired at the Eureka. Foggle did his best to avoid the long-distance Hail Marys, but Benson knew most of them hit home. The shields held.
“Hold your fire, Harry. We want them on our side when we come back,” Barkley ordered, and Harry vocalized his understanding.
Benson sat down in the commander’s chair again, nervously watching as they neared the transport ship with Shadow on it. The craft finally noticed the looming ship and attempted to run, but Tomas was quick. The tractor beam shot from below the Eureka, locking on to the transport.
“Engines are charged!” Foggle shouted needlessly, his words ringing loudly across the bridge.
“Take us out,” Barkley snapped, and Benson cringed as he watched two large ballistic missiles heading for them. Then they Shifted, and space was quiet around them once again. He took a deep breath after realizing he’d been panting in his seat.
After a moment of anxious silence, the crew let out a synchronized shout of joy at their accomplishment, and Benson joined them. He was absolutely thrilled it had worked. Now for the fun part.
“Get him on board, and be careful. Send five Marines to do the job,” Barkley said, and Benson didn’t think anyone noticed as he slipped from the bridge to finish the last piece of the puzzle.
Flint
“I can’t believe it made it. I’ll be damned.” Flint had been put through his paces over the last while, and seeing his baby, the Perdita, was like a slap in the face, waking him up from a walking coma. His eyes stung with tears as he raced across the hangar floor, not even concerned with hidden enemies. Benson had told him it would be safe in the docking station above Europa; after everything, Flint had been sure there was no way he’d see the ship again, but here it was, waiting for him like a warm blanket on a cold night.
“Get everyone on board,” Flint said, opening the hatch. He only hoped it still functioned. Why else would the Watchers have left it on the surface when every other ship was gone?
While Charles was helping with that, Flint ran through the ship, noticing along the way how messy and unorganized it was. For him it had been just over a year, but the Perdita had aged another thirty on this side of the Rift, and it was on its last leg. He jumped over a crate set in the center of the main corridor leading to the bridge, and arrived to see his two seats empty at the front of the vessel.
His gaze drifted to the co-pilot’s seat, where Kat had sat beside him for several years. He hadn’t had much time to think about her, but seeing his old ship brought back a flood of memories. He missed his sidekick fiercely. “I hope you’re doing better than I am, Kat,” Flint said out loud, and remembered he had a task.
Flint’s hands remembered the console with ease, his muscle memory taking over. The dash lit up, and the viewscreen came to life. With the flip of a few switches and the tap of a button, the engines purred to life, and he couldn’t hold back a smile. “You still have it, baby,” he said to the ship, and kissed the console.
He felt the pull to ease the ship off the moon and get the hell away from Europa, but he had to make sure everyone made it on board first. Flint ran back to the cargo bay, his legs aching along the way. Now that he’d had a moment of rest, he noticed that every inch of himself was sore or pounding. He was a mess. At the edge of the bay sat a first aid kit, and he went to it, pulling a bunch of supplies out. Most of it would be expired, but some things were still good. He also found a crate full of bottled water sitting open underneath it. He motioned to Marnie, a familiar face from the training field, and asked her to hand the water out.
“Flint, where can I set Wren?” Charles asked as he carried the unconscious woman in his arms. Her face was pale, blood seeping from her bullet wound and covering her torn pants. Flint brushed a strand of hair from her forehead and let his hand linger for a moment longer. She’d be okay. There was no other option.
“My room, second door on the left down the hall,” Flint said, unable to take his sights off Wren. His gaze followed them as the android carried Wren away. “Does anyone have first aid experience?”
The previous captives were still a scared, quiet bunch. Flint wished Clark was there to help him corral and inspire the group.
A middle-aged man spoke up. “I did some patch work with the Marines back in the day.”
“Peter?” Flint asked, hoping he had it right.
The man nodded. “Sorry about before. I should have listened when you came to the base. I was there for two years, and as you can imagine, I didn’t expect to be able to change our situation.”
“Don’t worry about it. That was a traumatic event for all of you,” Flint said, loudly enough for everyone to hear. “We need to work together now. Peter, take the kit and help fix
Wren up. There should be a nanoshot in there too. Use it if you think it’s necessary.” Flint didn’t have enough understanding of the medical technology to know what it would do if expired.
“Consider it done,” Peter said, following after Charles.
“The rest of you, stay put in here.” Flint saw hope in many of their eyes now, for the first time since he’d arrived on Europa.
“Thank you, Flint,” one of them said, and then another. Soon they were all talking over each other, communicating openly, some embracing the person beside them as tears willingly flowed.
“We’re not out of the woods yet,” Flint whispered to himself as he headed back to the bridge. He stopped momentarily on his way and saw Wren lying on his bed, her eyes fluttering open. Flint’s heart leapt, but he kept moving, not wanting to get in the way in the room.
“Okay, let’s see what they’ve done to you,” he said, knowing there had been modifications to his ship. He’d seen the extension on the rear of the vessel, indicating a Shift drive had been installed. Normally, someone messing with his ship would have caused him a lot of grief, but not today. Today, he needed the new drive to get back to Earth to help his people.
He reached out to Ace. “Hey, kid. I got my ship back after all. You ready to blow this colony?”
“Flint! Am I ever glad to hear your voice. Let’s do it,” Ace replied.
“Hold one moment, Flint.” Charles was at the entrance to the bridge. “I have one more thing to do.” He pulled a canister from inside his battered torso. “The virus won’t live forever without a host, but there are enough rats here, I expect they’ll act as carriers for as long as necessary. If our friends ever find a way to make it back to Europa, they’ll be in for a surprise.”
Flint smiled at the android. “It’s a bit vengeful, but I like the cut of your jib, Charles. Make it snappy.”
A few tense minutes passed while Flint kept his eyes on the console’s radar, looking for any enemy ships. When Charles came back, he took the seat next to Flint without saying a word. It was time.
The Resistance- The Complete Series Page 69
