by Chris Lowry
No matter what they did with the waste, he thought, someone came in here to clean up after. Maybe they burned it, maybe they shot it out into space, he didn't know. But the thought of being shot out into vacuum made him move a little faster toward the Exit sign.
He tripped and landed nose to nose with a desiccated corpse.
“Shit!” he screamed.
Carver pushed himself up and stared. He was surrounded by the corpses of the crew of the Lucas.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
The lights flickered on full on the bridge as the Lick kept tapping on the keyboard to bring full power back on line. The view screen showed light after wave of lights click on the body of the ship highlighting just how large it actually was. Dawes wondered how the government kept something like this secret, and to even have a whole space command. He knew he was out of the loop most of the time, vagabonding as he did, but he thought some big news like this would have to make its way out in the world.
He glanced over at Rachel who was part of the secret. Her eyes burned with tears and rage and he saw what she was looking at.
One of the Licks was yanking a dead Ensign out of the helm's chair and dragging two bodies over to waste tube. It shoved the lifeless corpses inside the tube with wet crunching sounds.
Dawes watched as the rage in her eyes flared and wished he had his plasma rifle to help her. He didn't know these folks but she did. They deserved to be treated better than just tossed away like garbage. Even he knew that.
Budge growled at Rachel and reached down to shove her toward the helm. The Lick at the keyboard keyed in a new sequence and brought up a picture of earth on the screen.
It magnified with each click until the blue marble with swirling white clouds filled the view screen.
“Why haven't they killed us?” Dawes wondered.
Budge placed a giant claw on Rachel's shoulder and shoved her down into the helm chair.
“He wants me to turn the engines on,” Rachel said in a low voice.
“Don't do it.”
Budge reached out and grabbed Dawes by the throat to lift him off the ground. The Lick stared at Rachel and if a snout could smile he would have been wearing one.
“Do it. Do it. Do it,” Dawes choked.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Carver spilled out of the waste unit door trailing debris with him. He crawled across the metal floor still gagging as he sagged against the wall.
“Now how am I going to get the hell out of here?” he asked himself in a tired voice.
He climbed up the wall and steadied himself with one hand. He needed a shower, he needed new clothes and he needed to get home, but at least he was still alive.
He stumbled down the corridor working extra hard to keep quiet, except for the occasional gag. He had no idea where he was. Somewhere in the bottom of the ship because that's probably where they kept the garbage and waste to throw out or burn. He shivered but not from the cold. He didn't know how close he came to either, but he was pretty sure he escaped with seconds to spare. Now that he had time to think about it, he could remember the door opening to space and the garbage being sucked out.
He barely escaped. It was only through some last-minute heroic that he survived. Yeah, he opened the door and even though all the air was rushing through and threatened to take him out with it, he was able to pull himself through the hatch and shut it.
He had seen that once in a movie. All the air was sucked out of the ship to put out a fire. So he probably saved their lives. If they were still alive, he thought. He probably ended up saving the aliens.
“What am I doing?” he asked aloud as he took another turn and jogged up the corridor. “What am I doing? What the hell is going on. I know they're dead. I saw all the bodies in the garbage. Aliens got them and now they're dead. Nothing I could do.”
He turned another corner. So far so good. No aliens. No Licks. Nobody. He was all alone.
“Nothing I could do even if I wanted to. I couldn't help them,” he kept talking.
“Where the hell am I?”
He rounded another corner and spied a short passageway. He peered down the metal corridor and saw the entrance to the Shuttle.
“Ain't that a bitch,” he said and rushed into the spacecraft. He slammed the hatch closed behind him and spun the lock.
He was in zero G again in the shuttle and floated over to the cushioned seat. He strapped himself in and began playing with the keyboard at the monitor.
“It's all automatic, right?” he muttered to himself. “That's what the man said. Time to get up out of here.”
He pecked at the buttons on the keyboard.
“He's dead,” Carver shrugged. “They're dead. I saw what the aliens did to them.”
He spied a button that said engines and pressed it. The whine of the shuttle engine vibrated the cushion underneath him.
All he had to do was press enter, he thought. Enter and the sequence would have to start. And even if it didn't start right away he could figure it out.
“Momma didn't raise no fool,” he said to the view screen. It revealed a million stars twinkling in the sky. Carver knew that one of those twinkles was a planet and that planet was home.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Carver took tentative steps down the corridor as he sneaked across the metal floor and tried to be quiet. He held a long wrench liberated from the shuttle in his hands.
“This is crazy, this is crazy. This is crazy,” he whispered over and over again with each step.
Turn around Carver, he told himself. You can't do anything. Nine-foot alligator mother fuckers with big ass teeth and all you got is a wrench. Talk about bringing a knife to a gunfight.
But he had to know.
What if Dawes was still alive? He wouldn't leave Carver up there on his own. He'd come back for him, wouldn't he? And the girl. Man if he rescued her that would seal the deal. She would do all sorts of things to show her gratitude. Depraved things that made grown people blush. The kinds of things that made living worthwhile.
“What the hell am I doing?” he asked as he shook off visions of a grateful Rachel. “This is stupid. Stupid. Boy if your momma find out she is going to kick your ass.”
Besides he thought, speaking of ass whippings. He owed one to Dawes. He was going to have to up in here and rescue that cowboy acting motherfucker and take him back to earth because he was going to kick his ass when they got back. It made perfect sense to him as he crept along in whispered silence.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Rachel finalized the entry into the computer to lock on the coordinates to their target. Earth loomed in the view screen.
Budge lowered Dawes just enough so the tips of his toes brushed the deck floor. He raised a long claw and rested the razor-sharp tip at the hollow of his neck where it met the jaw and pressed until blood dripped onto the floor.
“Let him go,” Rachel shouted. “I did what you want.”
Budge wheezed and snuffled in a semblance of an alien chuckle. He pressed deeper and drew his finger along Dawes throat while the man bucked and fought against his grip. The blood oozed around the long nail.
Carver jumped in through the open bridge hatchway.
“Surprise motherfucker!” he screamed and swung the wrench like a bat. It bounced off the back of Budge's concrete like skull and clattered to the floor.
“Shit!” Carver barked and shook his numb hands.
Budge rolled his head around and glared at him as his tongue licked out to taste the air. He made a disgusted sneer as the smell covered his forked tongue.
Rachel grabbed the Lick next to her and flipped him over her back in an Aikido move while he was surprised. She yanked his plasma rifle out of his claws, reversed it and shot a bolt into his gaping maw.
She dropped to her knee and shot a second Lick across the bridge as it took two steps toward Carver.
Budge dropped Dawes into a pool of blood on the deck and lunged toward Rachel, a giant claw reaching out to
grasp the back of her unprotected head.
Carver ran to a control panel and launched himself at the back of the alien leader. He careened into him and the momentum carried the two of them into a control panel that dented under their weight and showered the bridge with sparks.
Rachel shot a third Lick with a glancing blow that sent it spinning down behind the helm control panel. She leaned down and scooped up Dawes with one arm. He was dazed from blood lose and groggy.
“Carver!” she screamed.
He rolled away from Budge and scrambled on all fours for the door. Rachel backed out with the rifle held ready, dragging Dawes with her. She took a shot at Budge, but he dove behind the helm and the plasma bolt seared a hole in the bridge wall.
Carver screamed.
One of the Lick's grabbed his ankle and dragged him back toward the bridge. Rachel straddled the alien and plowed a bolt into the back of its head. Snout and tongue splattered across the floor in smoking piles of goo.
“Get up,” she said.
“Damn girl,” he limped to his feet and nursed his bruised ankle. “Give a brother a minute.”
She passed Dawes for him to hold and keyed the panel. The door slid shut on the bridge. Rachel aimed the rifle at the keypad and turned it into slag.
“Come on,” she took one Dawes' arms and began dragging him down the corridor. Carver limped to keep up under the other arm.
“They're trapped, girl. You shot the shit out of that door.”
“There's a back way,” she huffed.
Carver stopped limping and began hustling them faster down the hall.
“Well come on then, what the hell you waiting for.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Rachel led them into a storage unit down a short corridor. It was larger than the supply closet she had been hiding in, but more crowded, with boxes of supplies stacked like cardboard forts.
She crawled in first, half dragging, half leading Dawes who dripped a blood trail along the metal floor. Carver followed muttering about the blood. They reached a clear spot in the center of the boxes and Rachel turned back to pull more down in place behind them to create a hiding spot.
“Get me the med kit,” she barked at Carver.
“I ain't got no med kit,” he barked back. “What do I look like? An HMO?”
She leaned across him and unzipped a tiny pocket on the side of his Suit to pull out a small emergency medical kit. She opened the packet and pulled out a tiny spray bottle. Using two fingers she pinched the skin together and sprayed it.
“What's that?”
“Super glue,” she said. “With antibiotic spray. It should stop the bleeding.”
“He gonna be alright?”
Rachel dabbed at his neck with an alcohol swab to make sure nothing was still leaking blood.
“He lost a lot of blood,” she said.
“You can ask me,” he croaked. “I ain't dead yet.”
“That sounds like a country song. You should write that down.”
Dawes slowly moved his head back and forth. He grimaced at the pain it caused, but since his head stayed attached to his neck he was grateful.
“What took you so long?” he asked.
“You didn't think I was just going to leave your white ass from some alien to barbecue?”
“Not unless you were invited.”
“Yeah?”
“And brought Cole slaw.”
“How did you know I was coming?”
Carver fumbled a computer chip out of the front pocket of his suit and held it up to show him.
“Cause I have the ignition sequence.”
“You son of a- you know I owe you a good ass whipping right?”
Dawes glanced at Rachel. The space in the boxes was tight, tighter even than her cubbyhole, so they were all close together. Her face was almost pressed into his.
“What did you do back there?”
“I set a course for earth,” she pouted. “I didn't have a choice.”
“You had a choice,” he whispered. “Thank you.”
Carver cleared his throat.
“What about me?”
“You're right,” said Dawes. “Carver?”
“Yeah.”
“You stink.”
“Fuck you man.”
“Seriously though, thank you for saving me,” said Dawes. He tipped an imaginary hat to Carver and got a nod in return.
“What do they want?” Carver asked. “Besides Barbecue human?”
“I think we're being invaded,” said Rachel.
“Earth?”
“No Uranus,” Dawes croaked. “How many Licks are on this ship?”
“I don't have a count,” he confessed.
“Is there some way we can find out?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
An air grate in the ceiling dropped down three inches and began to rotate. It flipped over at an angle and was dragged quietly back up into the duct. Rachel peered out of the new hole and stared at a security control room. It's set up like the bridge, but instead of one giant view screen, there are hundreds of monitors, each dedicated to a section of the ship. Miniature cameras along corridors and in individual rooms give unprecedented access to all areas of the Lucas.
Black blood on the floor indicated the fate of the security officer that occupied the chair where a Lick sat watching the monitors.
On screen, Licks scurried back and forth in several sections.
She took all this in on the first glance and pulled her head back into the duct work. A plasma rifle barrel slowly eased out of the duct and stopped inches from the back of the Licks' head.
Rachel pulled the trigger and sprayed a fine mist of goo and gore across the floor, panels and monitor.
She dropped out of the duct and began wiping off the screens to get a count.
Carver and Dawes dropped next to her.
“You better have some extra strength cleaner baby girl.”
“Move that,” she ordered with a nod to the Lick body.
“Don't tell me what to do,” Carver muttered. “You ain't the boss of me.”
But still he did it, struggling under the weight of the nine-foot body as he dumped it in a corner of the security room.
“Why do I get all of the nasty work?” he complained.
“You said you were a nasty boy,” Dawes grinned. “You're the toughest.”
“Well I ain't tough no more. You're the tough one now cowboy.”
“Can't do it. I don't have the natural talent for the job.”
“You're gonna have my natural foot up your ass if you don't watch yourself.
Rachel ignored what they tried to do for banter and stared at the screen in fierce concentration. Her lips moved as she counted. Several screens showed aliens hunting the corridors, bursting into rooms with rifles drawn.
Her eyes locked on one screen in particular.
It was aimed at a cargo hold on the Lucas, the one near the rear where the Lick ship had attached to them. A dozen Licks moved boxes from the alien ship into the Hold.
“What is that?” Dawes said next to her ear.
Rachel moved her hands over the keys and typed in a command through the goo.
All the security monitors drew the one image full so it showed on all screens.
“What they doing?”
They watched the Licks stack the tiny three foot boxes next to a glowing oval stone that cast a soft yellow glow over them. The aliens slowed as they approached, almost reverent in their gentleness.
One of the boxes shakes next to the rock. The top cracked open and disintegrated in a shattering of shell. A miniature version of a Lick crawled out of the syrupy liquid inside and trailed it across the floor as it crawled toward the rock.
“Is that a chicken” Carver asked.
“You ever seen a chicken that looks like that?”
“Maybe it's a space chicken.”
“It's a hatchling,” Rachel corrected. “It's one of them. They're growing an ar
my.”
“Now how can you tell it's an army?” Dawes asked.
She nodded toward the edge of the screen. A Lick dressed like a shaman grabbed the miniature alien away from the oval rock and put a small spear shaped weapon into its tiny claws. The larger alien led it away to a wall as second box hatched and then a third.
“They're growing an invasion,” Rachel gasped.
“That's sick.”
“I wonder what that'd taste like,” Carver smacked his lips. “Put a little bit of hot sauce on it, might be good.”
Rachel snorted in disgust.
“You better be playing,” said Dawes.
“What man? What you want me to do? Just watch them take over the earth and sit here say nothing? Besides, you rednecks eat possum and squirrel and alligator and shit. I bet it taste just like gator tail.”
“You want me to get you one to eat?”
“Yeah man go down there and get me one to eat. What can I say, I'm hungry. What are we going to do about these alien motherfuckers?”
“Blow up the ship,” Rachel said.
“Who?” Carver scoffed.
“Us.”
“When?”
“Now,” she said.
“You can do that?” asked Dawes.
“We have to destroy the ship.”
“hold on, let's not rush into anything,” said Carver. “I mean we're kind of up here on the ship and all cause of that kind of thing. And that ain't worked out too well. We need to think this through.”
Rachel nodded and moved away from the wall of monitors to the door.
“We need to keep moving. I know where we need to go.”
Heavy sucking footsteps sounded outside of the door.
Rachel tossed her rifle up into the duct with a clatter. She motioned for Dawes to give her two hands up. He cupped his hands, took her foot and lifted her up into the air. She crawled up, turned around and held out her hand.
