Galaxy Man

by Mark Wayne McGinnis

  So unexpected, so startled by the sight of her, Gallic gasped, simultaneously swallowing and inhaling the foul lake water. Gagging, retching, and coughing—ingesting more and more of the putrid liquid—total desperation consumed him. Now flailing, he kicked-out with his legs and felt his feet push off the ship’s hull. He frantically peered upward and saw the blazingly bright lights of the Hound so . . . far away. His arms felt heavy—moving so slowly now—as his body-jerking retching continued. Darkness was closing-in, surrounding him—a constricting tunnel. Soon there were less bodily spasms . . . Is this what it feels like to die?

  Chapter 44

  Frontier Planet, Muleshoe — Derringer Township.

  Gallic awoke to a bout of racking, bone-jarring coughing . . . Leaning over, he spewed out something he was certain was toxic. In that same moment, he realized he was sitting on a hard surface, perhaps a wooden chair. Secured to it with ropes, tied at his wrists and ankles. Scanning his surroundings—almost pitch-dark wherever it was—he could barely make out the large angular shapes around him. He concentrated on the contours of his left wrist and came to the conclusion his ComsBand was no longer attached there. “Terrific . . . just terrific,” he muttered and mentally recounted back to the last things he remembered.

  He was under water, in the process of securing a line to Teddy Walter’s personal spacecraft, when he caught someone within the ship’s interior staring back at him. Oh God . . . Lane! She’d looked just as startled. Eyes wide—leaping up then reaching for him—she’d cried out, her words soundless behind the spacecraft’s canopy. Gallic’s mind raced. He needed to get to her, rescue her before her air ran out. Struggling against his bindings, he rocked, jerking his body about in an attempt to break free, but the chair held fast. Soon he was out of breath and coughing again. Then he heard a soft, familiar, voice speak near him.

  “You know, Gallic . . . you’re not supposed to get captured when you’re trying to rescue someone.”

  “Oh God, Lane!”

  “I’m okay,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

  He hadn’t realized she was right there, sitting directly behind him, mere inches away. Then he felt her chair slightly bump his own. “Lane . . . how . . . I don’t understand, you were—”

  “Trapped inside that fucking, claustrophobic tin can?”

  “Yeah, it must have been awful.”

  She continued, “I think you’d just gotten that cable-thingy attached because suddenly Teddy’s ship, and me along with it, was being hauled up and out of the water.”

  “And me? I was drowning. No way I could make it to the surface—”

  “No, he jumped in and grabbed you. Dragged you over to the shore.”

  Gallic tried to make sense of what she said. Didn’t remember any of that part. “Who . . . who jumped in and pulled me to shore?”

  “The same one who left me for dead at the bottom of that shit pond, your good buddy. There was a time when I thought maybe the two of you were in cahoots together. I’m so glad you weren’t. Obviously, clearly . . . you weren’t.”

  “Who . . . who are you talking about, Lane?”

  Before she could answer him, he heard, “She’s talking about me, Gallic . . . come on . . . you never suspected?”

  He peered into the darkness as the silhouette of someone moved closer. “Phil . . .” Gallic muttered. Every muscle, every tendon, went rigid. Gallic’s jaw clenched, his molars grinded together. He looked upon the shadowy figure while shooting lasers of hatred from his eyes.

  The silhouette came to a stop nearby, but Gallic couldn’t see what he was doing. “Easy boy . . . deep breaths.”

  “Where are we, Phil? Where’s my ship?”

  “Hound’s nearby. I’ve already acquired her for myself. All your feeble security measures were breached within a matter of minutes. There’s still a slight issue, bringing up those big gravitorque drives, but nothing I can’t handle. On the other hand, your AI was practically jubilant at the prospect of answering to a new master. What’s that about, Gallic? You know abusing one’s artificial intelligence, emotionally or otherwise, is paramount to a crime. It’s like elder abuse, or animal abuse—”

  “Just shut up . . . you killed them, Phil. You killed my family! All those women and children, you sick fuck.” Gallic was desperate, intensely wanting to feel his hands tightening around Phil’s neck; feel the bones cracking and breaking. To be the one responsible—ending the man’s despicable life.

  “Now that’s no way to talk to an old friend, Gallic. I am what I am. Do you disparage a killer tiger in the wild for baring his fangs or a grizzly bear for using his magnificent claws? No . . . those animals are simply being true to their true carnivore instincts. I can no more ignore my own natural instincts than they—”

  “Most bears are omnivorous, asshole,” Lane interrupted.

  His dark presence loomed over her. “I can easily put you back where you were . . . among the discarded trash and pond scum. I suggest you hold your tongue, woman.”

  Gallic wanted to tell Lane to stop baiting him. If they were going to find a way out, they would need time: time to think, time to plan. He said, “And the whole Curz Watcher thing? What was that about? A deception, a ruse to avert our attention in another direction?”

  “There’s so much you don’t know. I wish there was time to, well, fully enlighten you. Let’s leave it and say that no, it was not a ruse. You should feel honored. Killing your very impressive wife culminated in those who came later; my further . . . exploits.”

  “Why . . . Phil? She was kind and good and—”

  “And exemplified everything wrong with society in the twenty-second century.” Phil next added, “We’re at a pivotal time where men, like you and me, need to make a conscious choice. Do you think what happened to the Curz—those poor alien males—was exclusive to that distant race of people? Come on! It’s happened before, there on Earth, when the once-dominant male gender relinquished his power little by little. Hey . . . we’re well past the age when, biologically, males are required for reproduction needs. Your wife, Clair, the scientist out to change the world, was one of the women who needed to be made an example of. Mothers and fathers need to take heed. Watch out for, and be leery of, a domineering female child. The same ones who’d later bring finality to a gender asleep at the wheel.”

  “You truly are a certifiable psycho, Phil, and a fucking idiot to boot,” Lane said flatly.

  Gallic said, “You’re killing well-meaning wives of farmers, ranchers, and their innocent daughters. There’s no rationale for any of that . . . how could there be?”

  “There is, John. I know it’s hard. Painful. But trust me, there is a reason for all this . . . madness . . . that you undoubtedly believe it to be.”

  “Don’t buy into it, Gallic,” Lane said. “Teddy told me he was onto Phil, suspected he was the killer, but he couldn’t prove it. He came to get me away from . . .”

  “That’s enough from you!” Phil ordered, his voice growing sterner.

  “Those slain women, here in the Frontier worlds, rebuffed his sexual advances, just as I suspect Clair did back on Earth. You knew Phil back there . . . right?” Lane asked Gallic.

  Gallic had indeed known Phil back on Earth. He’d been instrumental in the installation of Gallic’s security system, at his New York residence. Phil knew his family, so he’d come and go as he pleased. “So, what now, Phil? You kill me . . . kill Lane?”

  “That is inevitable. You need to come to terms with that. But Lane was correct . . . Teddy Walters was clearly onto me. So, he had to go. Unfortunately, just as I suspected, he conveyed those same suspicions to Lane. So, making it appear like she’d been abducted by the hammer-and-nails killer was my only option.”

  Gallic closed his eyes and shook his head.

  “Don’t be too hard on yourself, my friend,” Phil said. “You’ve been far too close, too personally involved, to have seen things as they really were. I have to admit, though . . . I will miss w
orking with you . . . it’s been fun.”

  Although Gallic couldn’t see his smile, he heard it in his voice.

  “You may despise me, understandably so, but I am giving you this one last time together. I didn’t have to do that. I could have sent little Lane, here, back to the bottom of the dredge, or simply let the hammer-and-nails killer do to her what he does best. And . . . I still might. You have an hour . . . two at the most. There is no escaping your ropes. When I return, be prepared to meet your maker,” Phil laughed. “I always wanted to say that . . . meet your maker. Who the fuck talks that way?” he laughed again. “Ha, I guess I do.”

  Gallic watched as the shadowy figure stepped away and was gone.

  Chapter 45

  Frontier Planet, Muleshoe — Derringer Township.

  He heard propulsion thrusters somewhere off in the distance as a ship lifted off. He recognized the distinct sound of the Gallivanter. Then it was gone.

  The silence continued until Lane spoke again. “I think I’ve blocked out much of my early childhood. The time before Teddy came and got me . . . rescued me. I was seven or eight. My father, and maybe my mother too, were like Phil, part of the Curz Watchers. Its indoctrinating process already pounded into me. I think bad things happened to me, Gallic. I just want you to know. But I don’t want to talk about this again . . . not ever.”

  “You don’t need to. Instead, let’s talk about how we’re going to get out of here, wherever here is.” He heard her swallow then let out a deep breath.

  She said, “We’re still at the Millhouse ranch. We’re inside the massive garage, across from that puke-green house.”

  Gallic scanned their surroundings again, recognizing the large shapes around them as ranch machinery, which supported the processing plant next door. He figured it must be getting brighter outside—he was now seeing streams of light coming through gaps in the walls and along the roofline. “Phil must have closed all of this ginormous structure’s side doors since I was last here,” he said.

  “Yeah, it took him like a half hour to do that. One thing Phil said was true,” she continued, “these ropes . . . we’re not getting free. Guy knows how to tie people up.”

  Gallic assessed his own bindings. “He may know how to tie a knot, but he made one crucial mistake.”

  “What’s that?” she asked.

  “He put me in a wooden chair.” Several moments passed before he asked, “Any idea where he’s off to?”

  “I know exactly where he’s off to . . . heard him make the call.”

  Gallic heard the emotion in her voice. “Linda and Juaquin Cugan?”

  Lane, quiet, didn’t answer back right away. Gallic suddenly felt the slightest wobble in one of the chair’s legs. He must have stressed it, where it attached to the chair frame, during his last big struggle to free himself. Increasing now the outward pressure on his ankle bonds, he stretched both his thick quadriceps and calf muscles well past the burning point. His hatred for Phil—for what he had done to Clair and Mandy—made it easier to discount the pain. Crack!

  “Gallic . . .” Lane queried.

  He continued questioning her, “Linda and Juaquin, they know . . . that Phil’s . . . ?”

  “Probably not Linda,” she replied, “but her daughter really hates Phil. He creeps her out, can’t stand to be in the same room with him.”

  Crack!

  “That would have been good information to share with me before today,” Gallic said, then instantly regretted saying it.

  “Hey . . . teenage girls hate everyone. I don’t think she’s that big a fan of you either.”

  Gallic shrugged that off. “The father, Rick, he’s also a Curz Wiccan . . . like his client, Teddy?” He grunted when the chair finally wobbled and broke apart beneath him.

  “Most definitely,” she said, trying to look behind her. “Phil is rendezvousing with Linda and Juaquin, at another location here on Muleshoe. He’s doing so under the pretext they weren’t safe on Gorman. That the hammer-and-nails killer may be coming for them there.”

  “He was one hundred percent honest about that aspect,” Gallic said, various parts of the now-broken apart chair still tied to his limbs. Stooping, he quickly began untying the knots around his ankles.

  “Apparently both Rick and Larz Cugan are away on business,” Lane said. “Phil told Linda it was you who’d insisted they get moving immediately.”

  “You heard all that?” Gallic asked.

  “I was sitting right here . . . you were too, but you were unconscious. I wanted to yell out, scream for Linda not to believe him. But Phil was pointing a gun at my head. I think it was your gun. Oh God . . . he’s going to bring them back here. He’s going to . . .” her voice trailed off.

  Gallic heard her softly sobbing. He didn’t need her to finish the sentence, knowing too what Phil planned for them—two more victims of the hammer-and-nails killer.

  “Untie me too!” Lane urged.

  One chair arm, still tied, swung from his left wrist as he knelt down to study her ropes. Getting to work untying her, he said, “An hour’s not much time. He must be meeting them somewhere close to here. Maybe Renegade’s Haven . . . there’s not much else around. He easily can make it there and back within the hour. We’ll need to move fast.”

  He got her arms free and ready to begin on her legs when he felt her hands take ahold of his face. Pulling him closer to her, she kissed him hard on the lips. He tasted the salt from her tears.

  “I’m so glad you’re here with me. I was so scared, Gallic . . . certain I would die down in that miserable sunken ship. It was horrible.”

  With her wrists now free she began untying the ropes on her ankles. Gallic stood up and looked around. “You okay for a minute?”

  “Yes . . . go. I can do this.”

  He spun all around and marveled at the size of the equipment garage—he then hurried off toward the structure’s nearest side wall. Once there, he used his knuckles to knock on the metal surface. The sound he heard was anything but reassuring, sounding like solid iron, but he was sure it was some kind of nearly impregnable composite. The winters on Muleshoe got fierce. Blizzards could rip the roof and sides off a building, even one this size. He walked parallel to the wall until he came to a series of large hinges, which ran up, all the way to the top of the structure. The wall was actually one of the four big doors. Gallic retraced his steps, searching for a way to open the thing, and eventually found the latching mechanism. A simple mechanical swing lever, it was secured by an old-fashioned, tried and true, although huge—padlock.

  “Oh yeah, forgot to tell you that I saw him lock the four sides down with those locks,” Lane said, now approaching him. “But there’s also a regular-sized door on the other side that he must have locked from the outside.”

  Gallic and Lane checked, and rechecked, all the doors. All were secured with locks. Having found a long-handled shovel, he used it like a crowbar attempting to pry open the regular-sized outer door Phil had left from. But all he accomplished over the ensuing forty-five minutes was the breaking and splintering of the spade’s handle.

  “You need to come to terms with it . . . we’re going to be trapped in here until he lets us out. And I’m getting really tired of having this panicky feeling,” Lane said. She looked up at him, “What is it?”

  “You hear that?”

  She listened for a moment and nodded. “He’s on his way back.”

  “They definitely rendezvoused over at Renegade’s Haven. The timing works.”

  Lane stood, gazing up at the high ceiling, her arms wrapped snugly about her. Gallic realized she was wearing the same panties and tank top he’d seen her wearing in the video. Phil hadn’t even allowed her to get dressed. She stared back at him, suddenly self-conscious.

  “Let’s get you something to put on. I think I saw a horse blanket—”

  “It’s okay . . . I’m not cold. You’ve seen me wearing less.”

  “That I have,” he said.

  The Galliv
anter was back, its thrusters heard engaging outside.

  “Gallic, if Linda and Juaquin are with him, they may only have minutes to live. He didn’t bring them here for a cup of tea. We have to do something. Maybe I should scream out . . . warn them,” she said.

  “No . . . that would bring about their demise even quicker.”

  Lane moved across to one of the large metal doors and peered out through a thin opening where the hinges were attached to the garage superstructure. “I can see out a little here. It’s early morning . . . dawn; I can see the rear of Phil’s ship.”

  Gallic heard her gasp. “Oh my god . . . I see them. All three are hurrying toward one of the far-off ranch houses. I can’t quite make out what Juaquin is saying to him. She’s asking him questions . . . like one right after another.” Lane turned to Gallic, terrified. “She suspects something, I can tell . . . the girl knows something’s not right.”

  Chapter 46

  Frontier Planet, Muleshoe — Derringer Township.

  Gallic joined her and also peered through the narrow gap. Now entering the distant house, he watched as Phil closed the door behind them.

  Lane hammered a fist against the metal surface. “Damn it! He’s in there with them . . . he’s going to kill them. He’s probably doing it right now. Can’t we do something?”

  Gallic shared her frustration, her rage. He turned away from the scene outside and reassessed where he was. “Holy shit.”

  “What . . . what is it? Did you think of something?” Lane asked, new hope in her voice.

  “Yes . . . well, maybe. You need to do me a favor. Forget what I said before about making noise. We need to get Phil distracted and out of that house. When I give you the signal I want you to start banging on the walls. Find something that’s big and made of metal. A shovel or a hammer . . . something like that. But wait for my signal, okay?”