Gyaros Book One: The Mice Eat Iron (YA 17+ Sci Fi Adventure)

by Rohan Healy

  “Do you think we could kill it?” Miles said, standing up and turning back to Jasper.

  “Well, if it can be killed, this baby right here'll do the job,” Jasper replied, holding up his revolver and adding, “but I wouldn't risk it just yet. There's another staircase up here and I'm pretty sure I can remember where it was, I say we go down that way 'stead of rushin' back out there. And if that fucker comes after us, I'll blast him to pieces.” Miles nodded in agreement with the plan.

  “Okay, so where's this staircase?”

  “A few rooms back, follow me and try to keep quiet.” Jasper began heading towards another door at the far side of the bedroom and Miles followed. The door opened to another narrow hallway, Jasper concentrated hard for a moment, trying to remember where he had come from.

  “This way,” said Jasper turning to the right and starting off down the corridor with Miles close behind him. They carefully and quietly made their way through the narrow halls of the mansion as the sound of the howling creatures continued to echo through the halls. ‘Shit, there’s more than one of those things!’ They finally came across the second stair case which Jasper had mentioned but the sound of the monsters was quickly growing louder. Miles and Jasper soon realized that the one stalking them earlier had found them once again and wasn't far behind.

  “Crap! It's right behind us!” Miles exclaimed. Jasper stopped and aimed his gun at the doorway they had just come through. The mutated creature suddenly appeared out of the shadows, sprinting madly towards Miles and Jasper, its limbs flailing frantically, it’s deformed mouth frothing. Miles could get a better look this time. It was definitely part human, wearing bloody, torn up jeans and t shirt. Thick green vines seemed to be growing out of its brain which was visible as a large portion of its skull was missing. Its flesh was pale and rotten, and exposed bone could be seen in several areas of its body. Jasper pulled the trigger of his revolver, shooting the thing in the chest and blowing a large chunk of flesh out of it. It stumbled backwards briefly before continuing to come at them, Jasper shot again, this time at its head which exploded into pieces as the bullet hit but, once again, it kept charging relentlessly. A third shot severed its left leg at the knee and it fell to the ground with a thud, its mobility greatly reduced. The sound of frenzied movement could now be heard from all around as the loud gunshots seemed to have alerted the other creatures. ‘Oh God, there’s even more!’

  “C'mon!” shouted Jasper, “let's get outta here!” Jasper and Miles rushed down the stairs to find themselves inside some kind of storage room filled with boxes and crates of all sizes. They burst open the only door in the room which opened up into the ground floor kitchen where Miles had been previously. It wasn't far to the exit but the horrifying monsters were drawing closer every second.

  Miles and Jasper ran as fast as their legs would carry them out of the kitchen, through the living room and towards the front door of the mansion. But just as they arrived at the main hall, another of the ghastly abominations appeared at the top of the stairs and leapt viciously onto Jasper with a screeching howl. Jasper dropped his revolver as he struggled with the creature on the floor, using both hands just trying to keep its sharp teeth away from his face.

  “Miles!” he screamed, “shoot this fuckin' thing!” Miles tried to lift his gun but his body just froze. He looked on in horror as Jasper screamed for help, wrestling the monstrosity. ‘God damn it Miles,’ he thought to himself ‘come on, what’s wrong with you? Aim and pull the fuckin trigger!’ Jasper struggled with the mad beast, its gruesome tongue reaching out past its rotted lips, spitting thick green saliva as it howled and screamed incoherently, its jaws gnashing wildly just inches from Jasper’s vulnerable neck and terrified face. Eventually, by some miracle Jasper managed to kick the creature hard in the stomach, knocking it onto its back and buying him enough time to reach for the revolver. As the monster recovered and prepared to lunge again, Jasper lifted his gun and shot the remaining three rounds at the thing sending it stumbling backwards. He quickly scrambled to his feet and sprinted out through the large double doors of the old house, pulling Miles, who was still in shock, along with him. As they reached the pickup truck and started the engine, two more of the half human, half vegetation creatures charged out of the mansion door, screaming and running towards the truck. Jasper slammed his foot on the gas pedal, made a quick U-turn and took off back down the long driveway.

  After returning safely to the dusty highway, Jasper turned to face Miles.

  “Why the fuck didn't ya shoot it?!” he shouted angrily. Miles sat there, still trying to recover from what had just happened.

  “I-I don't know,” he said, his voice trembling, “I tried to...but I just couldn't. I couldn't move.”

  “I coulda been fuckin' killed by that thing!”

  “I'm sorry Jasper, I don't know what else to say!” Jasper turned back to face the road, mumbling furiously under his breath.

  “We didn't even get any fucking meat!” he said, hitting the steering wheel out of frustration.

  “We can just explain to Gideon what happened, I’m sure he’ll understand. I mean we were nearly eaten by those fucking…things!” suggested Miles.

  “No way! We can't come back empty handed, no meat no business, man. We just gotta find someone else,” Jasper replied.

  “But we don't have time!” Miles protested, “we open in an hour!”

  “Hmm, I think we do,” Jasper said with a smile, pointing to the road ahead. In the distance, it looked as if a car had broken down. As Miles and Jasper drew closer, they could see that there were three men standing around the smoking vehicle. Approaching the wreck, Jasper took the spare gun that Miles had laid on the dashboard and brought the truck to a stop in front of the men.

  “You boys need a little help?” he shouted out the window. As the men turned around, Jasper quickly shot all three in the head with amazing accuracy before turning to Miles with a grin.

  “We eat tonight!”

  ‘I want to go home…’

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  Chapter 15

  Hellen walked across the kitchen from the counter to the dining table carrying the steaming kettle. Her bare feet stuck slightly to the chequered linoleum as she made her way. Atop the mahogany table sat a coffee plunger capable of making two cups of coffee. Hellen poured the boiling water into the glass receptacle and smiled as the water turned from clear to black, mixing with the ground coffee. Miles looked up from his flex screen and smiled at his beautiful wife, the Sunday morning sunlight illuminating her soft, pale skin. The intoxicating aroma of the strong black coffee filled Miles’ with a sense of safety and nostalgia as Hellen poured two cups of the delicious brew. Light footsteps were heard rushing down the wooden stair case and then Chet entered the room holding a blue and white model monorail.

  “Hey buddy,” said Miles propping Chet up onto his knee and gently bouncing him up and down. He gazed proudly at his young son as Chet studied the Elissan public transport engine with deep focus. It was perfect, just like he remembered, he made it, he made it home and all was just the way it should be.

  “Miles honey,” said Hellen smiling. Miles looked up to see his wife holding a large kitchen knife and suddenly felt sick, terrified, like something was horribly wrong. The beautiful morning sunlight had been replaced by a ghoulish green hue and the entire room seemed off somehow. There was an indescribable feeling of dread pervading the entire scene.

  “Look at what you made me do honey,” said Hellen as her face changed from a beaming smile to a horrific grimace. She grasped the knife with both hands, stretching out her arms and turning the blade to face herself.

  “Hellen, NO!” shouted Miles jumping to his feet and knocking Chet onto the ground who hit his head on the kitchen table and began to scream in pain.

  “Look at what you made me do!” Hellen growled and plunged the long kitchen knife into her chest, blood splattering across her contorted face and over her white night slip. She removed the
knife and plunged again repeating her chilling mantra.

  “Look at what you made me do!”

  Miles stood and watched in awestruck detestation as Hellen repeatedly stabbed herself, cackling like a mad witch, his innocent child screaming in pain and in horror at his feet.

  “HELLEN!” Miles screamed sitting up, covered in sweat and catching his breath from the recurring nightmare that had plagued him since his arrival on Gyaros. His body tingled as the visions from the dream remained seared into his mind’s eye. He sat there for a number of minutes, afraid to close his eyes for fear of returning to the terrifying scene. The pots and pans, the cupboards, the mops, the sinks and benches all took on the shape of spooky figures in the dark scullery. Miles shook his head and tried to forget about the dream, to forget that in the next room hung the butchered bodies of human beings, to forget the events of eight days ago, the events that took place at that God forsaken mansion, to forget those screeching, green, undead monstrosities.

  Eight long days had passed since then and Miles’ life working at Ransom’s Fresh Meat had returned to some kind of normality, if such a word could be used to describe life on Gyaros without sounding ironic. Miles cleaned the plates and sometimes worked the register, keeping a low profile. The shroud of Emmet’s death had just about lifted from the restaurant, though Miles could still see flashes of sadness in the eyes of both Jasper and Gideon in those rare moments when they let their guard down. Each night he carefully counted his ever increasing money supply and calculated how long it would take for him to be able to afford his own truck. To their credit the Ransoms paid a fair wage in full and on time, and Miles’ money supply was always fully accounted for every night, down to the last coin. Murderers and cannibals they may have been, but thieves they were not. They ran a legitimate, if misleading, business and the more time he spent working there, the more Miles warmed to Gideon and Jasper. After-work hours were usually spent drinking beer and sharing stories out the back of the restaurant, or enjoying some target practice on the plains of Gyaros, Miles was becoming quite a shot. The tension between Miles and Jasper had died down somewhat after the mansion incident. Gideon explained to Jasper that those who are born on Carthage are not used to the intensity of violence and physical threat that those who grow up on Gyaros are exposed to.

  “Like a deer in the headlights boy, they freeze up, ain’t no choice involved, jus’ happens until it don’t. Takes time to get used to things up here Jasper, poor Miles just froze is all. The main thing is you two got back safe, and with grub too! No harm done, now you boys get along.”

  Lately Jasper had been giving driving lessons to Miles, who was a quick learner. Miles, like all living citizens of Carthage, had never driven a personal conveyance before. However being an avid video game enthusiast in his younger days, he had picked up a number of skills playing driving simulators. So driving the real thing was not that difficult a challenge and Miles, having mastered the basics, was already enjoying doughnuts and hand break turns out on the dusty barren wastelands. Yes that’s right, enjoying. Humans have an incredible capacity to adapt. They will quickly get used to almost any circumstance and even find time to laugh and to joke about the most morbid of subjects. An instinctual coping mechanism to aid in the creature’s survival. And Miles was no different, despite all that had happened over the past weeks there were moments of laughter, and even joy. Watching the artificial sunset, seeing his beautiful home world floating weightlessly in the sky, hitting a bull’s-eye with Jasper’s rifle or speeding through the desert in Jasper’s truck. These were the moments that made life bearable on Gyaros. The moments that gave Miles the strength to fight on, one day at a time, as he slowly edged toward his goal of reaching New Fortune and finding a way back home. He even got used to the food. Miles didn’t eat properly for three days after finding out what was in the meat but he eventually came around ‘I eat or I die’ was his logic. Yes indeed, humans have an incredible capacity to adapt.

  One evening after work as Miles, Gideon and Jasper sat watching the sun set over the craggy red mountains in the distance, Gideon decided to share a story. The three men sat back into their wooden garden chairs, beers in hand with a cooler full of bottles and ice in front of them. Then Gideon began to speak.

  “Back when the boys’ mother was alive myself and my brother Taggart would hunt them squeakers for meat,” Miles looked at Gideon with a puzzled expression, “yeah you know, them big ol’ rat bastards with the hairy legs.” Miles nodded and mouthed ‘Aha’, now understanding what he was talking about.

  “We didn’t always use people y’know. We’d raid the squeaker’s caves, scare ‘em out with smoke and a bullhorn, that’d send ‘em scurrying out and we’d mow ‘em down from the pickup. Like shootin’ fish in a barrel. They were smaller back then, and there was more of ‘em too. These days it ain’t worth the risk. You can spend a week out there and catch nothing, and even if ya do find one, chances are you aint’ gonna be the one eatin’ that night!” Gideon laughed and took a swig of beer.

  “So one day Taggart comes running in the restaurant and tells me he was up on The Terra Ridge and saw a herd of cattle just roaming about six miles out west. We hopped in the pickup and sped out to see could we bring back some easy meat and sure enough there they were, must ‘a been five hundred head. We couldn’t believe our eyes, we wanted to take ‘em all, but all we had was this rusty ‘ol pickup. So I took aim and shot one through the head, it fell to the ground and we used the old winch to get it into the truck.” Gideon took another sip of beer this time finishing the bottle. He reached down to grab another and cracked it open taking a sip and emitting and satisfied ‘Ahh’.

  “So we get the cow back to the shop and I go ahead and start butchering the thing, when I notice its stomach. There was this zigzag pattern along its underside like nothin’ I’d ever seen before, and when I went to cut into it and gut the heifer the fuckin’ thing opened right up and screamed at me! No bullshit!”

  Miles face contorted in disgust and confusion.

  “What?! You’re joking right?” he asked incredulously.

  “This was no cow man, this thing had razor sharp teeth where its stomach should have been and it started snappin’ and chasing me all around the kitchen! I ran out into the restaurant and the damn thing followed me out, scrapin’ along the floor with its gangly legs. Our poor customers freaked the hell out and ran out the front door screaming,” Gideon continued laughing and gesticulating, “so Taggart hears the fuss and runs in with his shotgun. ‘What the fuck’s going on here,’ he yells and then he see the cow’s body sliding along the floor, its big belly open wide and snappin’ at chairs and tables, wood chips flying all over! Taggart screams, ‘what the hell is that thing!’ and starts taking pot shots pumping the ugly son of a bitch full ‘o lead until it stops movin.”

  “What the hell was it?” asked Miles as excited as he was disgusted by the story.

  “Well we found out later that this new breed of parasite was infecting the livestock. It used the cow’s body as a host and grew inside it. It tapped into the brain and nervous system of the animal and just kept on pretendin’ to act like a cow even though the original was long dead. Then when a person or wolf or other predator would try and attack the docile cow the parasite would spring into action surprisin’ the attacker with its razor sharp teeth hidden away in the belly. Word was that the farmers out west just let the infected cattle free to stop the spread and that’s how they ended up at The Dustbowl. Took us months to kill ‘em all. Eventually the parasite wiped out all the bovine livestock on Gyaros, that’s why it’s so damn hard to get our hands on fresh meat anymore.”

  The three men enjoyed the rest of the evening and whiled away the hours chatting and drinking.

  Miles had visited the local mechanic-slash-car dealership a few days ago to enquire about purchasing a car. The cheapest of which was a small roofless thing that was little more than a roll cage on wheels. Even that dinky little thing cost five thousand Talons.
With the two grand Miles received for the raids, plus his weekly five hundred that put him at a total of three thousand Talons in savings. At this rate it would be months before he would have sufficient cash to buy a vehicle sturdy enough to survive the journey to New Fortune. Miles often spent his nights lying awake, thinking up ways to make more money. So far all he’d realistically come up with was robbing the restaurant’s register, but even after the busiest of days there was only ever a maximum of around six hundred Talons. Not nearly enough to justify the risk. And besides Miles was not in the mood for taking any risks beyond what was necessary. He had sworn to himself that this time he would do what he foolishly didn’t do when he had the chance at Le Cinema Magnifique. That is to say; work hard, lay low and let time pass. No quick fixes, no shortcuts. He owed his family more than that. Yes his work was unspeakably unethical and horrifyingly disturbing, but on Gyaros it was kill or be killed. This was how Miles justified his daily life, and with the image of his wife and child always in his mind he battled on, day after day.

  Back in the present Miles had calmed down somewhat, his breathing and heart rate returning to normal after the nightmare. He laid down again onto the hard floor of the scullery and pulled his sleeping bag over his shoulder. It had been three days since his last nightmare, and Miles knew only too well why he experienced one this night. Tomorrow it was time for another raid, another hunt. Meat was once again growing scarce and Miles dreaded to think what might await him the following day.