by Chris Lowry
“Carver!” Dawes screamed.
That's it. They got him. He sucked in a breath, ready to surge ahead while the aliens were distracted.
“Here!” Dawes shouted again.
Carver turned and saw him dive headfirst through an access panel in the wall he had just run past. He tried to stop, slid down on his ass and scrambled back for the hole in the wall. He made it through just as the lead alien made a swipe for his leg.
He danced back from the opening.
“Ha ha!” he shouted in triumph.
The alien wedged its shoulder through the hole and began wiggling through.
“This way,” Dawes shouted from further ahead.
Carver ran after him into a small storage utility room. Dawes played with the buttons next to the door and it slid open into another corridor.
“They're coming!” Carver watched the lead alien struggle halfway through the access panel.
Dawes slammed a fist against the button and whisked the door closed.
He started running down the corridor.
“Where you going?” Carver fell in behind him.
“I don't know?” Dawes called back.
The corridor ended at a metal door with a keypad next to it.
“Where does this go?”
“I don't know.”
“You don't know where we're going, you don't know what this is, what the hell man? What do you know?”
A hissing roar filled the corridor behind them.
“I know they're coming,” Dawes began playing with the keypad.
“They're coming man!” Carver screamed into his ear.
“Give me a minute,” he tried to concentrate. There was a code taped in marker next to the door and he dried off the tips of his fingers to key it in.
“In one minute, we're going to be up our ass in Alien lizards!”
Dawes tapped the last key and hit the pound sign.
Nothing happened.
“You fucked it up.”
“I did it right,” said Dawes.
“Do it again.”
“That's not it,” Dawes studied the numbers and the keypad again.
“Man, move out the way,” Carver shoved him in front of the door. He keyed in the sequence and again nothing happened.
The roar sounded closer this time, the sucking sound of footsteps growing louder.
Carver punched the keypad.
The door eclipsed open and both men stared at a Plasma Rifle aimed at their faces.
“Shit,” Carver muttered.
“Whoa, whoa!” Dawes held up both hands. “We're friendlies.”
“Move,” a female voice commanded.
Dawes stepped out of the way as she aimed the rifle down the corridor and sent two plasma bolts into the shadows. The aliens hissed but the footsteps stopped as they tried to figure out their next approach.
The plasma barrel dropped along with Carver and Dawes' mouths. Chief Rachel Smith wore a black space suit just like the ones they had on, just with more wear and a few charred pieces. She was buff and beautiful with eyes that studied them like a scientist studying bugs.
Rachel reached out and grabbed Dawes.
“Get in here.”
Carver hopped over the edge of the doorway with them.
She reached up and keyed in a code to close the door. The last thing they saw as the iris shut were the three aliens making a mad dash around the corner toward where they were.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Rachel glared at the two men as the barrel of her rifle danced between them. They were human, yes, but why were they on her ship? The uniforms told them they were a rescue party or at least part of one, but where were the weapons? She knew the aliens, the Licks, she called them, were tough and vicious. And fast, so maybe they had weapons and were getting away from an ambush.
That had to be it.
Except they didn't look like soldiers. They didn't act like soldiers.
Carver fell into a strut and eased closer to her.
“Damn baby girl,” he said as his eyes slid up and down her body. “What's your name?”
“Shut up,” she growled.
“Alright now, you know a brother loves a woman in charge, you know what I'm saying.”
He rubbed his thumb across his nose and licked his lips.
“Who are you?” she ignored Carver and directed her inquiry at Dawes. “Are you S & R?”
“You can call me whatever you want girl. Whatever. What do I call you?”
Dawes reached out and grabbed Carver's elbow, drew him back against the wall. The woman was looking a little itchy with the trigger finger and even though he had never seen what a plasma bolt could do to a body, he was sure it wasn't pretty. She looked frazzled, like she hadn't slept in days and the scorch marks on her suit looked like they covered some nasty burns.
“What's an S & R?” he asked.
“Search and rescue?” she sighed. “Damn it!”
“No girl,” Carver stepped back into her personal space. “That's what we are. We're here to save you. I am your black knight in shining armor.”
He dusted off his grimy sweat stained spacesuit and stood with his chest out and head back for her to admire. She didn't.
“We sent an SOS and they sent you?”
“What's wrong with me?” Carver asked.
“We aren't the Search and Rescue team,” Dawes said. “I'm Dawes, this is Carver.”
Carver reached out for her hand and pulled it to his lips.
“Washington Carver, at your service.”
She jerked it away from him.
“What kind of idiots are they letting in the Space Corp now?”
“Hold up,” Carver said. “First, I ain't no idiot. Second, what the hell is Space Corp?”
He turned to Dawes.
“You know about Space Corp cowboy?
Dawes shook his head, still watching Rachel and the rifle that she hadn't dropped from their direction.
“Alright beautiful, why don't you tell us all about Space Corp. Is this some super-secret space mission shit?”
“That's exactly what it is.”
Carver blinked.
“Well alright then.”
“Look,” said Dawes. “Do we need to get out of here? Go hide or something? Those things are probably looking for a way through even as we speak.”
Rachel snapped out of it. The appearance of the two men threw her off, but he was right. The Licks would be trying to find a way around, and even though they didn't know the Lucas, they were adept at adapting. They would be on their way.
“Follow me,” she told them and led them down the corridor. They fell in step behind her, Dawes hefting the rifle and trying to carry it like her. She looked like she had more experience with it than he did.
“Are you part of the crew?” he asked.
“No, I'm one of them,” she snapped.
“I like here,” said Carver.
They marked along the metal floor for several minutes.
“What are those...they...them?” Dawes asked.
“Licks,” she said. “That's what I call them.”
“Licks huh?” Carver purred. “That sounds like you got something on your mind girl.”
“It's from their tongue.”
“I bet it is.”
“The way they lick their snouts.”
“I bet you like to lick a snout good, don't you?”
Rachel rounded on him and shoved the plasma rifle into his face.
“Do you know the kind of week I've had?”
Carver licked his lips as he stared down the barrel of the rifle.
“A bad one?” he squeaked.
“Hold on now, hold on,” Dawes took a couple of steps away. “We're all on the same team here.”
“Shoot her man,” said Carver. “This bitch is crazy.”
The whine of the plasma rifle ratchet up a level as her finger tightened on the trigger.
“If you're not here as the solution, t
hen you're my problem,” she said in a tight voice. Her wild eyes flickered in the soft LED's of the ship highlighting the soft purple bags underneath them and making her face look like a skull.
“I'm not going to shoot her,” said Dawes in a slow drawl. “Nobody's going to shoot nobody, got it?”
His voice was calm, even though his sweaty palms could barely hold on to the rifle grip.
“Licks huh?” he tried to get her to focus on him. “They look like lizard alligators. I would have gone with Lizigators, or Allizards. But Licks is good. Do you know how many Licks are on board with you?”
She flicked a glance over to him.
“I can't pronounce their real name,” she said. “Their ship latched on to us around Uranus.”
“Not a word Carver,” Dawes warned.
“No man, not a word,” he said still staring at the black hole of a rifle barrel in his face. “Besides, too easy.”
Rachel darted her eyes between them and made a decision. She dropped the rifle barrel and began trudging up the corridor.
“Come on,” she sighed.
Dawes fell in step behind her and Carver dropped in behind him.
“Rachel Smith,” she said as they moved to a hatch. “Astro-mechanics.”
“Hey my uncles got an Astro,” said Carver. “Good minivan, but he takes it to the shop a lot.”
She keyed the hatch open and led them into a small utility room. A pad was laid out on the floor along with a table with three disassembled plasma rifles and tools scattered across the top. There was a small pile of foil packets with MRE etched on the side, but not much. Her hidey hole was tight with the three of them in it.
“Astro, like in the stars,” she yawned. “Astronomy.”
“Right. I know this, girl. What's your sign? I'm a Taurus. You know what that means? Strong like bull, you know what I'm saying.”
Rachel plopped down on the pad and drew up her feet to make room for Dawes and Carver to sit. There wasn't enough space for them to do more than that.
“Where are the rest?” Dawes settled down next to her feet.
He thought keeping some distance between her and Carver was a good idea because she had the rifle close at hand.
“I'm it,” she said. “The last of them. We can't stay here long. We need to get moving.”
She curled up in ball and snuggled the rifle on the pad as her heavy eyes closed.
“Give me ten minutes,” she said in a sleepy voice.
“Is she sleeping man?” Carver whispered to Dawes.
“Looks like it.”
“What do we do?”
“Wait,” he answered. “If she's a mechanic, maybe she can jump start the shuttle and we can get the hell out of here.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Rachel woke with a start and scrambled back against the bulkhead as she brought the rifle to bear on Dawes and Carver.
“Who are you?” she blinked before she remembered and dropped the rifle.
“We are not search and rescue,” said Dawes reminding her.
She stood up and began working on one of the rifles. The damage looked pretty severe, like it had been in a firefight and discarded. She tried to fit two pieces together but it wouldn't work.
“How long was I out?” she asked.
“About thirty minutes,” said Dawes.
“Damn it,” she tossed the pieces back on the workbench and bent over for her rifle.
“We were quiet,” said Dawes. “We didn't want to disturb you.”
“We don't have time to sleep,” she told them. “Come on.”
She pushed past them to the door as they leveraged up behind her.
“Rifles ready,” she whispered and charged the plasma pack on hers. Dawes searched for the button his rifle and accidentally pressed it, filling the small storage room with the weird harmony of two deadly weapons.
“Ready for what?” Carver asked.
Rachel ignored him and keyed the hatchway open. She popped out and swung the rifle to either side of the corridor.
“Clear,” she called out.
Dawes and Carver stepped out with her.
“Now that you're here-” she began leading them to the right.
“Why are we here?” Carver said.
She stopped and swung around to them, pawing sleep out of her eyes with a grime stained hand.
“What do you mean why are you here?”
“That's what I asked baby girl. Why are we here?”
“You are Special Forces, right?” she scoffed. “Not Search and Rescue but Command wouldn't send two complete idiots into Outer Space.”
“We ain't idiots,” Carver sniffed.
“Not completely,” Dawes added.
“Then why are you here?” she waited a moment.
When they didn't answer, she turned back and kept leading them down the corridor.
“It's like talking to a wall,” said Carver. “A smoking hot, sexy wall.”
“Enough,” said Dawes. “Come on.”
She heard them fall in step behind her.
“Do you have SAT's?” she asked without turning.
“I didn't go to college,” Carver told her.
Rachel stopped again and reached for his neck. He put his hands up in a karate pose ready to fight her off. She grabbed the neck of his suit and yanked him closer.
“Damn girl, you don't have to be so rough. You know I want this too,” he purred into her ear as she examined a small wire out of the neck of his suit.
“Suit Activated Transmitter. SAT,” she showed them. “It transmits constant mission updates and this one is completely useless. Why did they deactivate it?”
She dropped the wire on the floor and shoved Carver back into the wall. He stood up and brushed off his bruised dignity.
“They said we were talking up here. They don't want no, what do you call it, transmissions being overheard.”
Rachel nodded as she put the pieces together in her head.
“Of course. If they heard you transmitting, they would know you were on board. You were supposed to come in silent, effect a rescue and disable the ship. It's standard protocol. Only you let the Licks know you were here. That's what confused me.”
“That part confused you,” said Dawes.
“I'm running on fumes here fellas,” she gave them a loopy grin.
“We didn't let them Licks know we were here on purpose, you know.”
“Doesn't matter,” she said. They know you're here and they're going to tear this ship apart looking for you. We need to keep moving.”
She bent over and began sneaking up the corridor in hurried footsteps. Carver and Dawes glance at each other and imitate her struggling to keep up.
“Why ain't they found you yet?” asked Carver.
“They think they did.”
“What do you mean they think? You know alien psychology or something?”
“Slow and in English for my friend here,” Dawes added.
“You're going to have to dumb it down for the redneck,” said Carver.
“I was in astromechanics when they attacked us,” she said. “I got a call from the bridge to access the crew manifest and change the roster. Delete the files before they killed everyone up there.”
“So they don't know you're here,” said Dawes. “Did anyone else get away?”
She shook her head in an abrupt no.
“How do you know?” asked Carver. “They could be hiding just like you.”
“I didn't count the body parts,” she grunted to him. “So you're right, maybe one of my friends and shipmates survived. But I don't think so.”
She stopped them at a bulkhead intersection and motioned around the corner.
“That's it,” she told them.
“What's it?”
Rachel dropped to her stomach and sneaked a peek around the corner. Dawes and Carver did the same trying to be as inconspicuous as she was being.
Two of the Licks stood on either side of a hatchway, nine
feet tall, huge muscled bodies with long snouts full of razor sharp teeth. Even as they watched, their tongues flicked in and out of their mouth, testing the air for scent.
Rachel ducked back behind the wall.
“Past those guards,” she said.
“What are they guarding?” Dawes settled next to her.
Carver watched him, then moved to her other side and sat even closer. She glanced at the lack of space between them, and eased over toward Dawes for breathing room.
“That's the engine room,” she said.
“Why are they guarding it?”
She shrugged.
“We need to get in. We can shut down the engines and lock down the systems controls.”
“If they think they have control of the ship,” Dawes whispered back. “Why are they guarding it?”
She shrugged again.
“Those are two big old boys,” he added.
“We need to get past them,” she said.
“What if they know you're here and that's a trap?”
She checked her plasma rifle.
“It's still protocol,” she told him. “This ship is a map to earth and set on autopilot. It's going to take them straight to our home. We have to stop them.”
Dawes nodded still not convinced. He was pretty sure she was hiding something, but he couldn't figure out what it was.
But she was damned determined to get into the engine room, and if that would stop these aliens from invading earth, he figured that was what they were sent up here to do. Technically, he knew, they weren't the first guys for the job. That was the two super soldiers they were mistaken for when that General shot them up here. But Dawes didn't see a second shuttle on the launch pad, so until the brains on the ground figured out a plan, he was going to have to help this woman shut down the engines.
He glanced over at Carver who just stared at the swelling curves under the spacesuit of the astro mechanic beside him.
“What the fuck you looking at?” Carver snarled as he caught Dawes' eye.
“Two big boys like that,” he nodded toward the corner. “They need a real tough guy to distract them.”
Carver nodded with vigor. He agreed. Two tough guys like the space soldiers that were supposed to be up here. But if they were here, he'd be at his cousin's house and not next to this fine woman. He was making inroads, he knew. Sure his charm could be off putting at first, he was aware of how strong he came on. But his philosophy was it was important to let a woman know just how attracted you were to her so she could make a quick decision. No games. Or that was his game. And his game was working because now when she looked at him, she didn't look like she wanted to kill him. Like now, she was looking at him with an expectant look on his face.
