The MMP agents steadied their guns on Ozzy.
Wapooh! Wapooh!
Ozzy jumped, splaying his fingers over his chest. He let out a loud breath of air and went to his knees. He dropped and curled into a ball, holding his chest and compressing the wound.
Wait…there wasn’t any pain.
He took a breath and pulled his hands away.
No blood.
He glanced up. The MMP agents were crumpled on the floor, each with a photon hole in their head.
Ozzy stood and covered back up, staring at Zeld, waiting for a photon bolt to zip through his head.
Zeld frowned. “Wildly paid me extra to kill them after they helped me.”
Ozzy took a step away from Zeld.
She dropped her weapon by her side, rolling her eyes. “Look, Wildly told me to kill them because he isn’t going along with the High Judge’s plan with the Ark. He’s setting the High Judge up, recording everything the man says. He needed the Mars Ministry Police to help me get this far. From this point forward, Wildly will begin a slow government takeover.”
Ozzy didn’t care what Wildly was doing as long as he and his daughter weren’t part of that crime boss’s murderous plot. But one thing didn’t make sense. “What does the High Judge want to do with the Ark?”
“Wildly didn’t tell me why Robert Baldwin wants the Ark. But Wildly wants it to run Mars and kick the Dunrakee out of here, just like Jonas.”
Ozzy walked toward the open doors. “I’ll just be on my way, then.”
Zeld stepped onto the stage and pointed her gun down at Ozzy. “I almost forgot. I was hired to kill you, too.”
32
Olympus Mons, Mars
Ozzy stopped in his tracks. He wanted to lift his hands but nodded instead. He was hoping he wasn’t part of Wildly’s sinister plans. “I figured he’d want me dead.”
He eyed her trigger finger. He’d jump out of the way when she twitched it to pull the trigger. It probably wouldn’t work, but he had no other options.
She narrowed her eyes and leaned forward.
Ozzy kept his eyes on her finger.
A curt chuckle erupted from Zeld, and she holstered her photon pistol then put her hands on her hips. “I’m not going to shoot you, Ozzy. I’d be going against the archaeologist code.”
The what? There wasn’t any code, and if there were, then why hadn’t he been told about it? If an archaeologist slighted another archaeologist, was he or she banned from the black market or something? Ozzy would have known that by now. This woman was crazy, but he’d go with it.
Ozzy let out a breath, not realizing he was holding it in. “Yeah, that code.” He wiggled his finger in the air then covered back up. “You gotta live by that code.”
He eyed her pistol against her hip, watching to see if she was serious about this new concept to Ozzy—the archaeologist code.
“I know what you’re thinking, Ozzy. You’re wondering why, if I were following the code, was I shooting you and trying to bring down your ship these past few days.”
That’s not what he was thinking. He likened her misses to how well he was at evading.
“I could have killed you at any moment I wanted. I created the illusion that you were hard to kill. Wildly took it hook, line, and sinker.”
“Because of the archaeologist code, you kept me alive?”
“Yes.”
Thank Mars, thought Ozzy. “That’s what we live by.”
“I help you, you help me. Again, part of the code.” She walked toward the Ark of the Concordant. “Grab the other side. We’ll take this back to my ship.”
“Wait. Don’t touch that.” He jumped onto the stage, rushing in her direction. He needed her help to get the Ark out of here and back to Jonas. He’d need to convince her, and he’d tell her that Jonas would give her a boatload of money.
She reached down, wrapping her fingers around the staffs.
Too late.
Zoooph! Zoooph!
Ozzy leaped forward. He slammed his hands against Zeld’s stomach. A scorching pain enveloped his calf, and he yelped.
He’d been hit.
Zeld fell back. A laser ripped into her shoulder, and she twisted, grunting loudly.
Ozzy went into a fetal position, sucking in wind and covering his bleeding calf.
The laser fire ceased.
Zeld crawled away from the Ark, cringing in agony. Smoke rose from her injured shoulder. She rolled onto her back, breathing heavily. “What…happened?”
“I meant to tell you when you came into the room,” lied Ozzy, wincing in pain. “This isn’t the Ark. It’s a trap.”
Zeld pulled out her pistol and pointed it at Ozzy. “Liar.”
“Trust me. I was going to warn you, but two MMP agents with weapons pointed at me pushed my warning off a bit. Just like you, I don’t kill archaeologists. It’s part of the code.”
She bobbed her head up and down in understanding. “True.”
Damn. This code was everything to her. “Look,” Ozzy said, “the real Ark is over there.”
She followed his eyes. “Because the real Ark was always masked from the peasants.”
She pushed herself up with one good hand. She holstered her gun and held her hand over the wound. She hopped from the stage onto the floor, her eyes widening. She had the awe in her eyes for ancient relics as all good archaeologists did.
Ozzy pulled himself to the stage’s edge and then dangled his good leg and pushed off with his hands. He yelped again when he took his first step, keeping his injured calf in the air. He hopped on one leg, moving toward one of the dead agents.
“I don’t know how this works, but I know that if you’re not of the bloodline, you aren’t supposed to touch the Ark,” said Ozzy.
“But if the gold weren’t touching a person’s skin then that person wouldn’t be affected by the Ark’s destructive power. As you can see,” explained Zeld, “this is covered in cloth.” She reached forward, touching the top of the Ark and resting her hand on a covered angel’s wing. “So beautiful.”
“More than beautiful,” Ozzy said, sitting next to a dead agent, unbuttoning the man’s coat.
“It’s exquisite, isn’t it?” She touched the Ark’s lid, also covered with the same cloth. “Grab the staffs, Ozzy. I’ll get the other side. We’ll carry it out.”
Ozzy put on the coat. “Gotta get this guy’s clothes on first.” He unstrapped the belt and wrapped it several times around his injury and pulled tightly, slipping the buckle through a belt hole.
It helped with the pain.
Zeld crossed her arms. “Any day now.”
She was right. He had to hurry.
He slipped the pants on and the boots, swiping his finger up the boot’s tongue. The boots sucked in, vacuuming around his foot for a perfect fit. “Got it.”
He stood, walking gingerly toward her.
She curled her fingers around both staffs, and Ozzy grabbed hold on the other side.
They lifted the Ark.
“Holy Mars’s red dust, this is heavy,” complained Ozzy.
Zeld walked backward, guiding them out the doorway. “Man up.”
Ozzy strode out of the doorway and past the columns, grimacing at the weight of the thing. If they dropped the Ark and the lid popped open, there’d be no telling what would happen next. Most assuredly, a beam of monumental proportions would blink them and Mars out of existence in a matter of seconds.
Or nothing would happen.
He liked the latter.
They rounded a corner, seeing the shield up ahead. His EVA, along with Toph’s and two capsules, were on the other side.
But Jozi wasn’t there, and neither was Gragas, nor was there a battle raging anywhere. It sounded quiet. No bombs, no strafing, and no photon rifle blasts breaking every rock in sight. Not even a Dunrakee and Galactic Knight starship battle was in the sky, which he was fully expecting.
They approached the shield. “Let’s set it down and rest,” Zeld said.
Her eyes were tired, and her speech was slow.
They set it on the floor. Ozzy shook his hands and arms out, favoring his bad leg.
Zeld watched him. “You know it’s just a flesh wound, sweet thing.” Her voice was shaky and a little weak.
He gave a half smile. “Still stings.”
Zeld showed him her shoulder. Fresh blood was streaming under her MMP uniform. The hole in her shoulder was deep.
“Not as much as mine.” She spoke half-ass drunk, her speech slurred.
What’s going on with her?
She yawned. “Just a second.” She walked back toward the wall and slid down, sitting on her rear. Her head slumped to the side. “I need to take a little nap.”
Ozzy walked over. “You’re joking, right?”
She shook her head and closed her eyes. “Just…give me…five minutes.”
Duh, Ozzy, she’s bleeding out and losing consciousness, he told himself.
He had to stop the bleeding. Not being a doctor, he figured pressure on the injury was all he was good for.
He unstrapped the belt around his leg. He went to his knees and pulled her forward, resting her good shoulder and head against his chest. He wrapped the belt around her wound, covering it. He pulled, making sure it was nice and snug to stop the bleeding.
“That ought to do it.” He rested her against the wall. “Don’t say I never helped you.” He stood. “And, yeah, you owe me one.”
Unlike Gragas, Ozzy kept score.
Zeld didn’t reply. She was unconscious and breathing softly.
Ozzy slapped his hands together. “Great.” He needed her help, not her sleep.
But he couldn’t wait, and waking her now wouldn’t do any good. She’d be groggy and more of a hassle.
Now came the impossible. Pulling the Ark through the shield on his own then putting the EVA suit on before the outside cold and lack of oxygen took him beyond the clouds.
33
Olympus Mons, Mars
One leg was outside the shield. Then the other leg. The chill had grabbed hold of Ozzy immediately, and goosebumps seized his body.
He heaved, pulling the Ark closer to the outside. If he didn’t hurry, the harsh Mars atmosphere would be the death of him. In minutes, the outside carbon dioxide-rich environment would seep into his cut and overtake his oxygenated cells and kill him from the inside out.
He couldn’t have that.
“Well, it’s now or never.”
He took in a deep breath and walked backward, dragging the cloth-covered Ark partially through the shield.
His back was fully outside. Why did he forget to put on the dead agent’s coat and shirt? He shook his head, wrenching the Ark and taking his entire body to the other side of the shield, along with the Ark’s front shafts.
He bent over and picked up his EVA’s torso, quickly slipping it over his head.
Waboom!
He ducked. A concussion blast rocked the cliff overhead, and chunks of rocks cascaded down upon him. Sand stirred into the air, clouding the area.
Air escaped his lungs, and he threw his EVA torso on the dirt and jimmied around the Ark, slipping through the shield.
Bending over and gasping for air, he watched the scene taking place outside. “What the blazes?”
But nothing was taking place. Again, no bombs, blasts, or battles. Just quiet.
He’d have to get into his EVA as fast as possible, rush a hundred meters forward, and look down the hill to see if his or any other ships were fully intact and able to fly.
And where the hell was Jozi and Gragas?
He took in another deep breath. Time to make history.
Inching around the Ark, Ozzy walked through the shield where he picked up his EVA and pulled it over his head, waiting for another blast.
It didn’t arrive.
He threw his helmet on.
Waboom!
He fell to the ground, covering his head. Rocks fell, their sharp edges clanking against his body.
He went rigid, flexing every muscle in his body until the rock waterfall stopped.
He gasped for air. He crawled to his EVA pants and pulled them on, attaching them to the torso and then the torso to his helmet. He gasped again, wanting nothing more than one breath of fresh EVA oxygen.
A photon beam zipped by and hit the rock above the entrance. Swirling smoke rose into the air.
He dove to the side, his mouth unconsciously opening on its own, searching for air.
Oh no.
His lungs burned. His eyelids fluttered, and he wanted nothing more than to sleep, but he knew that meant death.
He did everything he could to keep his eyelids from shutting and inspected his EVA to turn on the oxygen.
The switch.
His oxygen wasn’t pumping through to his helmet because he hadn’t flipped the switch to do so.
Ozzy touched his chest, pressing a button, and initiated the oxygen control valve.
A breeze of air entered his helmet. He breathed in heavily and bent over, wheezing and coughing.
His lungs continued to burn as he inhaled. He convulsed and gagged trying to hold down vomit. He went to his knees and took more heavy breaths, swallowing down as much oxygen as he could.
Leaning back, he rested his body against the rock. “Slow down, Ozzy. Slower, slower,” he told himself, calming his breathing.
He then shot up and stood straighter, his adrenaline putting him on high alert.
Ozzy remembered that someone was shooting at his position. He looked around, searching for the rifle he left behind.
He went to his knees and patted the ground, looking everywhere.
Wapooh!
Dirt flew up in his face, and he jerked back, slamming against the rock wall.
How was he going to get out of here?
He clicked on his com line. Maybe Gragas and Jozi were still alive. “Are you there?”
The line was full of static.
“Anyone? This is Ozzy. I need help and ASAP.”
He heard a loud crash, and rock sprayed across his helmet. He covered his radiation visor, blocking several chunks. He dropped his arm and saw a huge divot in the rock wall across from him.
The crunch of footsteps carried through his helmet’s auditory sensors. Several people were coming.
He frantically looked around for his rifle. Perhaps a portion of it was sticking out of the sand?
A boot came into view and then another. Ozzy looked up. A handful of MMP agents were in full military-grade battle EVA’s. Grenades and guns hung from their belts, and they were holding P-248 double-barreled photon rifles.
Ozzy threw his hands in the air.
The agent in the lead bent his knees, put his finger closer to the trigger, and aimed his weapon.
Ozzy was dead to rights, something he was getting far too used to.
34
Olympus Mons, Mars
Krackow!
An avalanche of rocks fell on top of the MMP agents. Ozzy twisted away.
Gragas jumped from the cliff’s edge and toward Ozzy. Jets streamed fire out of his boots, slowing his descent.
His thrusters turned off, and he landed on his feet, raising his rifle.
Wapooh! Wapooh!
MMP agents jerked back and forth as Gragas littered them full of photon beams.
Ozzy looked away.
The firing stopped, and Ozzy raised his eyes, breathing heavily. Perspiration dripped down his forehead. All of this killing was making his stomach hurt.
Gragas extended his hand to Ozzy and pulled him to his feet.
“Ozzy, my friend. I feel your discomfort, and I see it in your eyes. Yes, violence is terrible. I understand. It is under Universal Law that you have the right to protect yourself. And we are protecting more than just ourselves today.”
That was probably so, but it didn’t mean he had to like it.
Ozzy huffed, wiping the dust off of his pants. “Where is Jozi?”
Gragas motioned forward.
“We were overrun. We barely escaped.” He pointed to the cave’s entrance. The Ark’s staffs were hanging halfway out of the shadowed shield. “We need to carry that to our ship.”
Ozzy nodded and hurried to the Ark and grabbed the staffs. He tugged. “But you let Zeld and the MMP agents just mosey on through the shield to kill me?” He knew Gragas didn’t want Ozzy to die, but an explanation would be nice. He pulled the rest of the Ark onto the red soil.
“I knew you could handle yourself in there. You’ve done it all of your life.” Gragas strolled over to the Ark and grabbed the other side.
“And where did the Dunrakee go?”
“My Galactic Knight crew chased them away from this location. They are in the fight of their lives over one of the Outlawed Zones.”
“Okay, lift,” ordered Ozzy.
They lifted the Ark and walked toward the incline where their ship was parked.
“Jozi is warming up the Hawk now.”
“Good.” Ozzy winced, feeling the pain in his calf. His com line crackled.
“Well, if it isn’t my friend, Ozzy .”
Ozzy froze. Gragas heard the voice as well, stopping in mid-stride.
Mort Wildly’s low and crackled voice boomed louder. “Aren’t you going to say hi?” There was a pause. “Just over on this ridge.”
Ozzy looked around. Olympus Mons had thousands of ridges.
Several rifle clicks gave away Wildly’s location. Gragas and Ozzy set down the Ark and turned, keeping their hands gripped around the Ark’s staffs.
Wildly and his men were in their own EVA’s and walking down a natural rock staircase on a ridge nearly fifty meters away.
They held P-8 long photon rifles, something that seemed to match Wildly’s long and thin body.
“Don’t move,” growled Wildly.
He halted a few meters in front of Ozzy and Gragas and put his hand over the material that veiled the Ark. He curled his fingers around the drapery and then pulled, yanking the ornate covering off and tossing the material aside.
Martian Ark Page 17
