Infected Planet

by Dennis Yates

  “Up to you,” I replied.

  Jade had already ducked inside and I ran to catch up with her. Inside the ship’s hull lay piles of skeletons, many with their Federation uniforms still hanging from them. There were crows hopping around, looking for any scrap of gristle they could nibble off the bones. Given how quickly the steamy desert works on the human body, the remains couldn’t have been that old.

  “They must have been infected,” Jade said. “Each has a neat hole through their skull. Someone was being thorough.”

  “Let’s go back. There’s nothing here for us.”

  “No way. I want to see if there’s anything we can use. Got to be something we can salvage.”

  It was a good idea but I wasn’t in the mood to push our luck. There only needed to be one rotter still hanging on to infect us. The crows were all around, watching our every move. I doubted they’d be interested in alerting us to trouble. They saw us as next on the menu if our luck took a hard turn south.

  I looked back and saw Ramos standing just outside the ship. He waved his rifle to let me know he would be watching our backs.

  “Come on in,” I shouted.

  He shook his head and looked away.

  I followed Jade as she weaved around the skeletons. Light beams shone through punctures in the ship’s deck, but they weren’t strong enough to be helpful. It was still too dark in the outer edges of the room to see anything.

  The situation reminded me of my encounter with the wraith. Of how close the rotters were next to me and I hadn’t even noticed them. Laura had been there the whole time. Waiting with a rotter’s patience. Until I was close enough for her to strike.

  As my eyes adjusted, I noticed a porthole. It was almost blacked-out with dried blood. I grabbed the latch and pulled it open. Its rusted hinge snapped off in my hand. Light flooded the room.

  Jade stared quietly. A dirty beam of light shone on her and she looked like a ghost that had just risen from the piles of bones at her feet. The air was thick with dust motes flying about as if they were living things.

  “What do you think happened?” I asked her.

  “I think these soldiers tried to hide in here. Until the rotters got inside and infected them.”

  “How long ago?”

  “By the condition of the bodies I’d guess a month. I’ve seen signs of wolves also getting into the act.”

  “We shouldn’t stay long. The wolves might think this is a good trap to check on a regular basis.”

  “I’m going to look for weapons first.”

  “Are you crazy?”

  “Come on. We need to see what’s here. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find some more doses of RZ63.”

  My face suddenly burned. “How did you know?”

  Jade smiled. “It’s the only thing that could’ve brought you back this fast.”

  “Does everyone know?”

  “Of course, Brand. After Patch told us what Cutter had given him, we insisted he use it on you.”

  “Most of them barely know me,” I said. “I don’t understand.”

  “Don’t worry about it. The only thing that matters is you’re still alive.”

  “So why did Patch act like we should keep the RZ63 a secret?”

  Jade smiled. “It was all his idea. He didn’t want you to have time to think about it. He was afraid you might pass on it like Cutter had.”

  My chest tightened with competing emotions. If only Cutter had taken the RZ63, he might still be alive to see my sister again. I had no one like that to dream about. I was the last person to deserve another chance at life.

  “Look at that,” Jade said.

  Jade gripped a flashlight between her teeth and waded further inside. She was soon walking over a layer of crushed bones. She reached down between the shapes of two clothed soldiers and started tugging. After a few moments, the dead gave up a belt and an automatic pistol.

  I couldn’t remember the last time I saw Jade smile. She held up the belt and notched it with a knife before she pulled it around her waist and buckled it.

  She didn’t have to say anything else to convince me. I climbed up the mound of bones and found more weapons. Others started to come inside and join us in the search.

  There was soon much laughter and excitement. A feeling that we might be in a better position now to turn the tables on Sorenson. The fog outside may have made things more dangerous, but it was worth the price if it kept Sorenson from being able to know what we were doing.

  Our elation didn’t last for long. A loud commotion erupted outside. I heard voices filled with worry and others given up to harsh cursing.

  Chapter 15

  “We need to get out of here,” Ramos shouted from the torn hole in the ship’s belly. “There’s rotters coming.”

  When we got back outside the fog had thinned enough that we could see a shadowy mass lurching toward us. Maybe a couple dozen rotters in all, maybe more.

  People were talking excitedly and I ordered them to quiet. I had us stay that way a good long time. Listening to the dead sing in their own weird way as they moved hungrily toward us. The others stared at me anxiously, wondering why I wasn’t in a hurry to get a move on. And then I heard what I’d been expecting -- the sound of horses galloping over sand.

  Bastard...

  Sorenson was still rotter herding. He must have had a stash of them out in the desert somewhere. It explained why he frequently rode off for no apparent reason. He and his men must have been checking on them all along.

  As we hurried away we gazed curiously at the ship’s corroded hull, wondering what it must have been like to cruise across water. Our great grandparents had been around then. Before the last sea had turned into a desert.

  Most evidence of our maritime past had been salvaged except for a few the Pilgrims kept as museum pieces. If you visited the older parts of some towns on Lazarus, you’d find Duster shacks made of the same oxidized ship metal. Timber had also been stripped from the wrecks by desert travelers over time. Some used it for cooking food or building structures to escape the sun.

  The rotters were soon too close for comfort. Behind their cloud of dust we could sense Sorenson and his men pushing them along. It seemed odd that he would think it necessary to put this kind of pressure on us. But maybe he was keeping his rotter herd nearby for another reason, to protect him and his prize. Ever since he’d taken custody of Junior Garrett, he feared others might attempt to snatch the boy away.

  “Any ideas what we’ll do when we reach the ship?” Patch asked, his voice cracking. “Me and the others would sure love to know.”

  “Don’t you think we should take a look first?” Ramos grumbled.

  The big man turned his head so he could look at me with the eye I hadn’t turned into a purple egg. I couldn’t blame him for being in a foul mood. Our mission to save the President’s dumbass boy only continued to dip south.

  To be fair, it wasn’t like any of us had a choice in the matter. Either we took on the suicide mission, or we were tossed back into the harvest freezer.

  If the rotter threat spreads beyond Lazarus, the Federation is going to need all the resources it can muster. But it wasn’t only rotters they needed to worry about. There were still a lot of Dusters down here who would happily send Federation soldiers back in body bags.

  I wouldn’t be surprised if what the warden had told me was true, that the Pilgrims were planning to bomb Lazarus clean and start over. It made a lot of sense. There’d definitely be fewer obstacles for them to have to deal with if they took that route. As soon as things settled, the Federation would be able to start mining Lazarus to their heart’s content. Any mention of Dusters in their history logs could be erased forever if they chose. But I doubt if they’ll even care to hide it. Their minds will be too flush with gold rush fever to think about anything else.

  I signaled Patch to distribute water and food rations a final time. I hoped there wouldn’t be many dead for us to deal with. The sun had taken its toll on the crew.
They didn’t look much more alive than the rotters.

  We walked another loathsome mile over sea bed closing the distance to the airship. It looked like a metal cone sunk into the sand and it listed north. The surface of the ship was already dulled to a muddy gray by the relentless scouring of wind and sand. There were no signs of rotters anywhere. Had they moved on after finishing their meal inside the decaying sea vessel?

  I wondered if there were any crewmen within Junior Garrett’s ship. It was possible someone could be waiting for help to arrive. I had a feeling we weren’t the people they had in mind.

  “Brand,” Jade said, tugging at my sleeve.

  I turned and looked behind me. Sorenson’s rotters were mostly gone except for a few of his men rounding up strays to drive back to the herd.

  “Any luck making contact?” I asked Ramos, nodding toward the ship.

  Ramos glanced up from his palm screen and shook his head. “There’s someone inside but they aren’t saying hello back.”

  “Keep trying,” I said.

  Jade lowered the scope. “I don’t trust them.”

  “Me neither. But let’s give them some more time before we draw any conclusions. They don’t have any reason to trust us either.”

  “Brand,” Patch called out from behind us. “Sorenson’s on the way.”

  “Why hasn’t that damn fool died of infection? The devil got stabbed with a crucifixion spine, didn’t he?”

  Patch shrugged. “I thought he was goners too.”

  “Could be all the whiskey he drinks,” Jade offered. “I’ve seen others pull through worse so long as they’ve had a bottle in their hand.”

  We quieted as the horseman and his riders approached. They’d left the rotters corralled somewhere behind them. The wagon holding Junior Garrett was being pulled by Sorenson’s horse.

  “What happened to the burro?” I asked.

  “Wolf took her,” said the rider who’d been nasty to Jade earlier. His eyes locked on her as he licked dust from his lips.

  “Talk about lucky,” Sorenson barked. “I figured this place would be crawling with rotters.”

  “They’re all gone as far as we can tell,” Ramos said.

  “Well hallelujah.”

  “But now there’s another problem to deal with.”

  Sorenson lit a cigar and puffed. “Are you going to tell me now or do I need to slice off your other ear?”

  Ramos cleared his throat. “I’ve tried to make contact with the crew. They don’t want to talk to us.”

  The horseman grunted. “Then we’ll have to help them understand who they’re dealing with.” Sorenson turned his horse and headed directly toward the Federation shuttle.

  “You might want to think twice,” Jade warned. “Those jumper craft have an effective defense system from what I can recall.”

  “You let me worry about that,” Sorenson said. “I’ve got something they want.”

  The tarp on the cart started to move. Junior Garrett stuck his head out and swiveled it around frantically. He’d been tied and gagged. His nose was bleeding and out of alignment.

  “I should take a closer look at Junior,” Patch whispered. “If that son of a bitch kills him, this really will top all shit fests.”

  Sorenson’s men fell in line behind him. After a few minutes, he stopped and waved at us to take the lead. We let Patch race ahead so he could check on Junior Garrett.

  Chapter 16

  Jade pointed toward the skeletons surrounding the ship. We hadn’t noticed them right away. Many were half buried in the sand or scattered in pieces.

  “What do you think caused that?” Ramos asked her.

  “Their pattern is about the right distance away for the type of weapons the ship would have available. But looking at how many dead we got here, I’d say there’s a good chance they ran out of ammo. Most hopper craft aren’t designed for prolonged attacks.”

  Ramos lit a nub of a cigar and nodded. “The ship’s crew must have brought the fight to the rotters. I think they took out the ones back at the shipwreck.”

  “Explains the fresh bullet holes in the hull,” I added. “I’d sure like to ask the crew some questions. When will they make up their minds to talk to us?”

  “Not until they find out we have Junior Garrett,” Jade said.

  Ramos blew a cloud of smoke. “I still can’t believe they used up all their defenses. They must have tried improvising at some point.”

  I craned my head around to see the horseman and his riders slowing up behind us.

  “I’m willing to let Sorenson take Garrett to the ship himself. To be honest, I’d rather lose the kid than one of us.”

  “What if they only allow Sorenson and Garrett onboard? Jade asked. “They could take off without us.”

  “That’s not something we’ll let happen,” I replied. “But I’ll be damned if we lose any more people. Sorenson makes everyone else do the hard stuff so he doesn’t get dirty.”

  “Getting stabbed by a crucifixion spine doesn’t sound like a picnic,” Ramos said.

  “True. It must have taken him by surprise. He’s so used to always being in control. He knows he let down his guard and it’s killing him.”

  Patch caught up with us. “Did you get to talk to the Garrett boy?” I asked.

  “I think he’d prefer to be with us. He doesn’t want Sorenson to collect on the reward.”

  “Good. If you get a chance to tend to him again, let him know we’re going to try to stop the horseman’s plans.”

  Patch looked puzzled. “Have you come up with an idea?”

  “No. We’re still working on one.”

  Patch took off his top hat and combed back his hair with his fingers. I could see his hand was shaking. “No offense Brand, but if you haven’t got anything now you’re probably too damn late.”

  “It’s beginning to look that way,” I agreed.

  We turned around and watched the horseman ride toward us, smelled the sickly stench of his bloated leg drifting ahead of him. Junior Garrett glanced at me while Sorensen approached the ship. The horseman stopped and waved his rifle in front of the cameras mounted above the ship’s entrance.

  “Open up, you idiots! Can’t you see I’ve got the President’s boy?”

  The cameras panned back and forth but the door stayed closed. Whoever was inside was in no rush to breach their security.

  Without warning the sand around us began to move.

  “What the hell...” Sorenson grumbled. He glanced around nervously as a dozen rotters clawed their way out of the sand. One rider was pulled from his horse and had his neck torn open. He thrashed around like a fish out of water, choking on his own blood. Others screamed at each other in confusion as they tried to flee.

  Noticing the rusted chains connecting the rotters by their necks, I realized it had been a trap. A crude but effective line of defense. People found themselves ensnared by the chains and unable to run far before a rotter caught them. Sorenson, however, managed to escape with Junior Garrett.

  “I’ve got him,” I shouted at the others. I pulled myself on to a dead rider’s horse. Whistled at Jade and tossed her my rifle when I saw she no longer had one.

  I didn’t want to leave them in the middle of their fight but I had no choice. The rotters had killed the last of Sorenson’s men and were gaining an edge over my friends. I found a machete strapped to the horse and pulled it from its leather scabbard. The horseman attempted to outrun me but I managed to keep up. Dust cut painfully into my face, nearly blinding me.

  Sorenson tried shooting at me and missed. The rickety cart he towed Junior in threatened to break apart at any moment. When I got close enough I swung the machete. The blade sank deep into the horseman’s infected leg. It burst with flies and the leg slid off bone and tumbled across the ground. Black puss gushed from the stump. Sorenson glanced down at it and laughed.

  This isn’t going very well, I thought...

  The horseman turned back and smiled at me and I felt
the bracelet vibrate. I jumped off the horse and rolled on the ground. The bracelet went quiet. I crawled behind a shelf of rock and watched. The mad horseman had turned around and was headed back to me.

  He wanted to see it happen. Wanted to be there to watch me bleed to death. But I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. I took a piece of electrical cord I’d been carrying and tied off my wrist above the bracelet. As soon as it went numb, I positioned the machete and brought my weight down on it as suddenly as possible.

  The hand came off cleanly. I tightened the cord some more around my wrist. My head was spinning and I wanted to lie down. I could hear Sorenson getting closer. My wrist squirted blood before I staunched the bleeding with a paste I’d made earlier from desert plants. One of the first medicines my mother had taught me how to make.

  I could hear the horseman laughing. I was hunched over hiding my pistol when he arrived. I’d already taken my severed hand and lashed it to my belt before covering it over with my shirt. I wasn’t going to let him feed it to his horse. No way.

  I picked up the pistol and waited. Sorenson emerged from a cloud of dust and charged toward me on the flesh-eating horse. He seemed confident he’d be able to take me for a ride with him to hell.

  I wasn’t ready to go anywhere...as soon as I had an opening, I shot Sorenson twice in the throat and nearly took off his head. I waited for him to fall off his horse but he refused. Instead his neck snapped loudly and broke off backwards from the weight of his head. He fired sloppily with the double barrel but struck nothing but sand.

  I realized then that I was in still in trouble. My gun was almost empty. I only had the use of one hand, so reloading wasn’t an option.

  I about flew out of my skin when I heard a sound even more frightening than an army of hungry rotters. Hanging only by shiny strands of muscle and doughy flesh, I saw the horseman’s head looking over his own shoulder and his mouth opened and gurgled blood before producing a terrifying shriek. His eyes were open and glaring at me.

  Sorenson tossed the shotgun from his horse and I breathed a sigh of relief. He raised his hands and grabbed at his head and tore it free.