Spectra Arise Trilogy

by Tammy Salyer

  Vitruzzi slows the Rover, trying to buy us some time to prepare for whatever might be coming at us.

  I scan the horizon before us, spotting another signal flash on the western wall above us. Almost directly beneath it, a spur of crumbling rock creates a sharp corner. The canyon walls narrow and begin a short curve west just past the spur. I have an idea.

  “Vitruzzi, if we can get the drop on them, they’ll have to rethink whatever ambush they might be planning.”

  “Do you have any suggestions?”

  “Those rocks up ahead. The signalers above won’t be able to see us when we’re right next to it, and the eastern wall will block the group behind us. They won’t know it if we stop. Someone can scale the slope and overtake that signal station right above it. If we do it fast, they’ll never know we’re coming.”

  Vitruzzi backs off the Rover’s accelerator a fraction more, thinking it through. Desto chimes in, “I’d be happy to crash their party.”

  “All right, let’s try it. If they’re planning to attack us, they’ll do it outside the mine where there’s less chance for crossfire and better cover. If we can snag them up, they may lose their nerve, or at least buy us more time. Desto, get ready to jump out when I stop. Stay low, use the cover in those boulders. Radio us when you have things under control. But don’t take any chances. If it’s too hot, get back to the Rover and we’ll make a break for it. Try and beat them back to the ship. Ready?” Retreat is Vitruzzi’s last option. They must need these seeds pretty badly.

  In a moment, we’re passing the spur. I watch the signal station fade out of view behind us as the walls conceal our position. Vitruzzi slows just enough for Desto to open the clamshell and leap out, becoming quickly obscured by dust kicked up from the tires. We catch brief glances of his ascent as he scrambles up the steep slope: a hand, a foot. He’s stealthy, not dislodging a single rock. As he nears the top, he moves farther around the corner, toward the mine entrance, until we lose sight of him altogether. Vitruzzi brings us to a stop a few meters past the spur and we wait in stillness. Only a couple of minutes pass, but the tension makes time warp and extend.

  There’s no sign of Desto for several long seconds, and then the radio on the Rover crackles to life. “Sphynx crew, do you copy?” An unfamiliar voice.

  “This is Captain Vitruzzi. Who do I have?”

  “Suarez. Your friend asked me to extend you a welcome to our mine. Fitzsimmon is waiting for you. Just keep heading to the entrance.” The radio transmission wasn’t perfect, but his voice doesn’t convey much warmth or welcome.

  “Let me speak to my guy.”

  A pause. “Hey, Captain. Looks like we’ve got some new friends.” Desto lets out a satisfied-with-himself chuckle. “It’s handled. Me and these guys will meet you in the mine. Out.”

  Vitruzzi starts driving forward again. The maneuver worked, but my stomach still clenches in a tense knot. These people have something planned, and it’s pretty clear it’s not something we’re going to like. Another sixty meters and I can see where the mine begins. The canyon narrows and leads to a derelict but still functional barricade marking the entrance to a dark tunnel. As we roll toward it, I hear a small engine off to our left. It’s Desto and the men from the signaling station coming down a graded road in another ATV. As we meet at the entrance, we can see three men in the cab with him. Desto’s flash-suppressed pistol is out, trained, more or less, on the driver’s skull.

  Desto is on the radio again. “Captain, the mine is deep, it’s about three klicks in to their HQ. Follow us. Out.”

  Switching on a set of lights, Vitruzzi pulls in behind Desto’s hijacked ATV, staying close to present less of a target. Soon, we pull into a wider, dimly lit area with a steel and concrete cargo elevator marking the end of the tunnel.

  “Karl, I want you and Erikson behind me. Keep your eyes open.” Vitruzzi and Strahan push each side of the Rover’s shell up and we all climb out.

  “Captain Vitruzzi. Did you bring what we arranged?” A stooped man with septic green eyes and teeth that match approaches, squinting suspiciously. He’s armed with a slung rifle and a pistol holstered in a chest harness. Another man, similarly armed, walks beside him. They’re exactly what I’d expected from carrion smugglers of this sort; the type that’s always looking for ways to steal what could easily be bought for cheap. They don’t distinguish between entities like the Admin who have the resources to cover their losses, and honest people who are forced to make dangerous deals just to get by. For men like Fitzsimmon, the goal is profit, no matter who it hurts.

  The men Desto had corralled move up next to Fitzsimmon. With a look of contempt, he motions them aside. Desto stands beside me.

  “I have it. Let’s see the seeds.”

  “They’re underground. We’ll go get them together.”

  “No. Bring them out here or we’re gone.”

  He grunts derisively, not willing to give any ground. The cave is littered with cargo, most of it in bins or under tarps, and I can’t make out what anything is in the gloom. There are too many hiding places. Hot and cold pinpricks jig down my spine, a hypersensitivity that assures me we’re moments from open hostility. The depth of the mine and distance between us and the Sphynx cuts off communication and any help the rest of the crew can provide. Vitruzzi and Strahan face off with Fitzsimmon, poised to draw their weapons.

  Her next words astonish me. “Desto, get back in the Rover and keep watch up here. Karl, Erikson, let’s go.” She faces Fitszimmon. “We’ll come down and get the goods. The money stays up here. After we have the seeds loaded on our ATV, you’ll get your price.”

  She must have a lot of faith in Desto to leave him up here alone. She must also be crazy to separate us like this. What choice do I have but to go along? Strahan stares unblinking and unafraid at the men before us. Confident, but wary.

  Fitzsimmon turns and opens the elevator. A massive blast door rumbles upward, exposing a wire-caged platform. One of the men from Desto’s group slides the cage open and he and another man move inside. Desto steps inside the Rover and shuts the hatch. Fitzsimmon waits for us to get on the elevator, closing the door behind us.

  The elevator is spacious, with plenty of room for six of us. The descent takes close to a minute and the hard stone walls passing by outside the elevator cage radiate deep, earthen cold that increases the farther we descend. One yellow light hangs from the wire mesh, turning the condensation from our breath into golden vapor. The floor is plate steel, made to haul heavy equipment and earth.

  “I have to say, it’s your lucky day—you needing solar seeds and we just happen to have some.” Fitzsimmon stares straight ahead as he’s talking, trying to divert our attention and keep us off guard. “Acquired them from a crew whose ship crashed on the other side of the moon. They were happy to give ’em up since that bird was scrap. Only needed a tiny bit of convincing. Who says crime doesn’t pay?” Scavenger. He and his group had probably murdered the wrecked crew and taken everything they could. He turns to us and flashes a seedy grin, clearly thinking of us as his next opportunity.

  The elevator hits bottom. Another thick blast door rises and we’re looking into a large room, about forty meters deep, with concrete walls and heavy steel and concrete struts bracing against the earth. An alternate shaft enters the chamber ten meters above the floor on the far end. There may once have been a ledge running the perimeter of the upper story, but it has long since fallen apart or been used for scrap. Fitszimmon steps out of the lift, Vitruzzi right behind him. I follow with Strahan at my right elbow, and feel the other two men breathing on the back of my neck.

  As we walk forward, Fitzsimmon tells us that the crates up ahead hold our seeds. I know it’s a lie. He’s trying to get us out into the open where we lose the advantage and can’t escape behind the blast door into the elevator. Furtively, I look around, trying to see what other surprises are in store for us. This room is well lit, at least better than the tunnel above. There’s movement above us, coming
from the second-story entrance. Crates are jammed into the opening, but my battle sense tells me there’s someone behind them, covering the room from the better vantage point. Envisioning the ambush they have planned is as easy as if I were watching it on a video screen. My nerves start firing, raw adrenalin squirting into my muscles. After I clear my throat to catch Strahan’s attention, he gives me a sidelong glance and I hold out a finger in front of my stomach, shifting my eyes up to the opening. His chin drops almost imperceptibly, acknowledging the situation, and I breathe more easily. I’m here with professionals. Good, maybe we have a chance.

  A crackle explodes from Vitruzzi’s radio, like a fission bomb, blasting the silent tension into pieces. “Captain, they fucked us! Get out of there!” Desto’s voice is sharp, sudden, absolute. It is on!

  SEVEN

  My elbow smashes into the nose of the man behind me too fast for him to react. He flies backward off his feet. Going with the momentum, I fall on top of him and roll to the side. Pistol already out, I shoot him in the head then dive for a concrete support to my left that holds the roof in place. Rapid firing cascades into the cavern from above, and Vitruzzi is crouched behind a stack of crates about seven meters to my right, returning fire. I look behind me and the other man is lying on his face, not moving, blood pooling beneath him. Did Vitruzzi shoot him, or was it crossfire? Strahan grapples in the middle of the floor with Fitzsimmon. He’s completely in the open, but Vitruzzi is keeping the man above from getting a clean shot at him, and I join the barrage with my carbine.

  The elevator motor rumbles, signaling that we’re about to have more company. Shit! This party is getting out of hand. The blast door begins to gape and I press my back against the support beam, firing a barrage under the door. Screams and blood flood out, followed by two heavy thuds. Suddenly two surprised and agonized faces stare at me from under the door and I aim carefully, finishing them off before they can fire a single shot.

  Turning back, I see Strahan crouching over Fitzsimmon’s lifeless body, firing his pistol toward the upper entry. He’s in the open, completely exposed, and the return fire isn’t abating. There must be at least two shooters up there. I glance at Vitruzzi; her magazine has to be close to dry. She suddenly drops with her back to the crates and grabs at her ammunition vest. Got to make a move. “Vitruzzi, Strahan, make for the elevator! I’ve got it!” I yell.

  She breaks immediately and I flinch as a bullet ricochets from the corner of the beam I’m hiding behind, less than a fist’s width above my head. Shrapnel stings my hands and tiny beads of blood well up, but I keep firing—can’t let those bastards get a clear shot.

  “Strahan!” Vitruzzi yells in alarm. I look over in time to see him dive behind the crates where she had been hiding, blood mixing with the grit on the dirty floor beneath him. He twists awkwardly onto one knee and continues firing. Vitruzzi is behind me with good cover in the elevator, loading a second magazine. The display counter on the carbine’s stock reads three shots from dry. I pop off two and grab a new magazine, reloading it before the final shot so I don’t have to chamber a round. No one fires, and no targets are visible. Whoever is up there has the luxury of waiting us out. They have better cover and a better vantage point. If we move, Strahan and I will be easy targets, but we have to get to that elevator.

  I’m crouched on the ground, my back to the beam. I can see Vitruzzi’s barrel and one eye from her cover in the elevator. I look over at Strahan. His jaw is clenched, eyes narrowed to slits.

  “Strahan,” I call. “Where are you hit?”

  “My goddamn leg!”

  “Can you walk?”

  He tries to bring his foot underneath him but gives it up with a gasp. His glance is furious. No fear there. Making a decision, I turn back to Vitruzzi and signal for her to open fire at the shooters, pointing at myself, then at Strahan, and lastly back toward the elevator. She nods and brings her gun around.

  Rifle blasts echo throughout the chamber. Rocketing from behind the beam and staying low, I lunge for Strahan. Firing his pistol with his left hand, he swings his right arm over my shoulder. I spring upward as hard as I can with almost his full weight on my shoulders. Christ, he’s heavy! Doesn’t matter, moving forward. I can feel him lurching with his good leg, trying to improve our speed. We’re not fast enough—a bullet hits me in the back, smashing into my body armor like a sledgehammer, instantly propelling us forward a few meters. My lungs go limp as the impact pushes all the air out of me. This can’t keep happening. But we’re in the elevator! I stumble over one of the dead men’s legs and Strahan and I hit the floor. The blast doors shut with agonizing slowness as bullets skid off the ground outside. Finally, the doors seal.

  Wheezing, I’m finally able to suck in air and re-inflate my lungs. Vitruzzi is on the radio. “Desto! Do you copy? What’s your status? Over.”

  “Captain, they’ve shut me in the Rover. Broke the latch from the outside. I can’t open it, but I’m alone up here.”

  “We’re in the elevator. We should be up in less than two minutes. Do not shoot when the doors open! Out.”

  “Strahan, how are you doing?” Blood saturates his right pant leg above the ankle and his face is ashen. Two bright red spots flame over his cheeks, making his eyes glint like gemstones. “I’m going to take a look at this, all right?” Gingerly pulling up his pant leg, I see a clean hole going all the way through the bottom of his calf. He watches me, sweat beading up on his brow. “I don’t see any bone. Looks like you got lucky.” Ripping a sleeve from his shirt to bandage the wound, I tie it extra tight to aid in supporting his weight. We’re not out of this yet. “What do you think now, huh? Still think I’m dangerous?” I’m just trying to distract him, not really paying attention to what I’m saying. But his response grabs my attention.

  “I think we’re even.” His burning eyes catch mine and hold them for a split second.

  The elevator stops and Vitruzzi hits the button to open the blast doors. We wait. Nothing happens.

  “Shit.” She hits it harder. Nada. “They must have rigged it. Desto, do you still have control of the Rover?”

  “Yeah, I just can’t get out.” He’s angry, an irate animal caught in a cage.

  “All right, I want you to launch a rumbler.”

  “V, no grenade is getting through that blast door.”

  “I know. Hit the wall to your left. Hit it is many times as you have to. Smash through it.”

  “Copy.”

  “Okay, get down. There could be some debris.”

  Strahan pulls his knees up, wincing, and Vitruzzi and I crouch against the far brace, covering our faces with our arms just as we feel a blast. Dust fills the shaft. Another blast, and another, the sound pummeling my eardrums like a hammer. The elevator light is burst by a flying rock. I pray that the impact doesn’t damage the elevator cables. It’s a long way to the bottom.

  “Captain! There’s a hole, climb through!”

  I open my eyes but can’t see anything except a disquieting red glow coming from below. They must have the doors open down there, but they won’t be able to shoot up the shaft this far—unless they have a pulse launcher. Vitruzzi slides the cage door open, grunting as she struggles to get the warped rollers to give. There’s just enough space between it and the blast door for her to fit. Squeezing through, she climbs around the cage until she’s next to the jagged opening.

  “I’m going to try the controls from outside. If they still work, I’ll open the blast door for you. If not…Karl?”

  “I’ll manage,” he says, and pulls himself up using the elevator wall.

  Maneuvering through the crater in the tunnel wall, she disappears. Moments later, the door rumbles open and I take Strahan’s arm again. “Let’s go.”

  The tunnel is nearly dark. Vitruzzi runs to the Rover and begins working at the driver’s side latch with a knife pulled from her ammo vest. Desto crouches inside, poised and ready to shove it open as soon as the latch breaks free. As Strahan and I limp forward, beam
s of light bounce along the walls, speeding down the tunnel toward us.

  “Wait!” he yells, jerking me to a halt. “Over there.”

  Two metal containers marked “Solar Focusing Amalgam” sit beside one of the rough stone walls. A tarp lies crumpled on the ground next to them, blown off by the concussion from the grenades. Exactly what we came here for.

  “Those bastards,” I manage to pant. “Come on, we can’t carry them.” We make it to the Rover as Desto finally kicks open the hatch.

  “Vitruzzi, the seeds are over there! We can still get them.”

  Her forehead wrinkles for a half second, gauging the situation, wondering how much time we have. Then she says, “Desto, bring the Rover! Come on, Erikson.”

  Strahan lets go of my shoulders and takes aim down the tunnel. Whoever’s coming is moving fast, but I can’t hear anything, only see the lights approaching. Vitruzzi and I get to the crates and work together to quickly load them on the Rover’s cargo racks.

  “Let’s move!” She jumps in, scrambling over Desto to the passenger seat, and I’m right behind her. Desto passes Strahan, slowing down enough for us to haul him over the side. Vitruzzi and I pull the hatch closed but it won’t latch, so I hold onto it using the closing strap. Desto presses hard on the accelerator, forcing us into a spin, and then the Rover lurches straight ahead. A four-wheeler comes into view from the tunnel entrance, cruising at top speed. The next instant, I’m thrown into Strahan as Desto turns sharply, losing my grip on the hatch. It flies upward, smacks against the other side, and slams back down with a thud. I manage to grasp it again, and wrap it tightly around my fist as I hold my breath, just waiting for a blast to hit us. Then Vitruzzi says, “Take this you fucks.” A hollow thump comes from beneath us, and the tunnel is filled with dazzling brightness as the four-wheeler explodes.

  “Got him!”

  We speed through the smoky blaze, momentarily riding up on debris. In seconds, we break through the tunnel entrance and back into the open air. Twilight has hit and the sky above us is a mix of purple and red clouds, shifting like the superheated plasma of supernova remnants. It’s not until Strahan shifts beneath me that I realize I’m still sitting half on top of him. I pull myself back into my seat. Finally, the Sphynx comes into sight.