The Gatekeepers (The Survivors Book Eight)

by Nathan Hystad

  “Good. I’d like that,” she said, and we settled into silence. We closed the hole in the wall. It was late, and we had a lot of work to do tomorrow.

  Tomorrow, we were escaping from prison.

  ____________

  “Stop working so hard, Slate. You’re drawing their attention,” Loweck told him.

  He had twice as many stone slabs piled near him as any other worker, and he was pouring sweat as he chipped away, beating out the frustration of captivity.

  Slate wiped his brow and set a hand to his hip. “Sorry, I’ll slow down.”

  The other prisoners were staring at him with bulging eyes.

  “Nothing to see here,” I said to the ones nearest us, knowing full well they had no idea what I was saying.

  It was almost time, and as expected, the guards were at their usual spot, feigning interest in what we were doing, but after who knows how many hours a year spent standing in the pits without altercation, they weren’t too worried about an uprising. That was going to be their demise.

  We were a good distance from the prison here, but they had ships: the ones that had locked on to us and dragged us beyond the walls. I’d seen them on occasion, moving around the landscape on our trips to and from the pit, but only once had I seen the lights activated. I wondered if that was what they did. Search out for roaming people, only to force them into servitude. It was terrible.

  “I hope Magnus has a plan. You know him, he’s a little ‘shoot first, deal with consequences later’,” Slate said.

  “I thought that was you.” I chuckled nervously. It was almost time, and we had no idea what to expect.

  The line began moving for the stairs, and the guards noticed us lingering in the pit.

  “Come on, Magnus. If you’re doing something, do it now,” I said through gritted teeth.

  “There. The light.” Loweck gestured above, where one of their square vessels lowered. The drones lifted out of the way, clearly programmed to defer to the alien-driven ships.

  The beam cut from the bottom of it, shooting to the floor of the canyon we stood inside. The guards raised their guns, unsure of what was happening. They stared up into the sky and pointed at their own people’s ship as it entered the pit.

  “That’s the plan! He’s going to beam us out!” It reminded me of the Kraski ships, and memories of every human being lifted from the surface of Earth rang through my mind. James being pulled from my house. I had to shake the feeling of dread. James was okay. He was on New Spero safely, with my expecting sister.

  “Stay closer,” Loweck ordered, and we listened. The guards were coming for us, and I hoped the ship would arrive first.

  One of them skidded to a stop twenty yards away and fired the slim gun. A blast shot toward us at the same moment Magnus’ ship ripped us from the ground. Seconds later, we were lifting from the pit’s floor. We moved quickly, and five minutes later, we were settled on the rock miles away.

  The ship landed, and I saw it was smaller than I’d thought. A hatch opened on the top, much like a tank, and Magnus’ head popped up. “Quick, they’re going to be looking for us. Pile in,” he said, and Slate pushed Loweck up the side of the boxy ship. It was only ten feet tall, and she clambered up. There was a wet spot where she’d been, and I let Slate shove me up the ship’s edge. Magnus lowered his hand and Slate jumped, clasping arms with the other man.

  A minute later, we were all inside the cramped space, and Magnus lifted the ship high into the sky, carrying us far away from the prison.

  “Loweck, are you okay?” Slate asked, and I saw the blood leaking from her arm.

  She nodded, but her blue eyes faded to gray as she slumped to the floor.

  Fourteen

  We settled to the surface roughly a hundred miles away. The cockpit of the ship was the size of a small bedroom, screens and computers lined the walls, and a single seat close to the floor sat along the main controls. It was meant for the aliens, whose average height was three feet. Magnus hunched on the seat; his knees in proximity to his ears would have been a comical sight at any other time.

  “Loweck.” Slate said her name again, but she was out. I lifted the injured arm, reaching for Magnus’ pack. There was a first-aid kit inside, and I grabbed it, searching for something to help.

  Her arm wasn’t bleeding any longer. I threw on gloves and touched the blood pooling on the floor between the metal grates, and felt it between my fingers. It was viscous, smooth like oil.

  “I don’t think this is blood,” I told Slate.

  “What do you mean? She was shot,” he replied.

  I showed him, and his brow furrowed.

  “Where are we, Magnus? Will they come for us?” I asked.

  He was standing now, ducking from hitting his head on an overhanging console. “No. I removed the tracking system and found a place at the edge of the rocks. They don’t seem to venture this far.”

  “They might after what happened,” Slate said.

  Magnus shrugged. “Maybe. Honestly, they’re not very tough. I kicked this one’s butt.”

  “Where is he?” I asked. “The one who flew the ship?”

  “Don’t ask,” Magnus said, answering my question indirectly. “Who is this?”

  “Loweck. She’s with us,” Slate said defensively.

  “Settle down, slugger, I was only asking. Why was a robot in prison?” Magnus asked, crouching beside us.

  “Robot?” Slate’s eyes went wide, and it all became clear.

  The fact that she was from Udoon, yet looked nothing like the Udoon race. Her ship had failed, and life support ran out. Her crew had died, but she hadn’t. She asked if they would let “someone like her” live on Haven. I felt foolish for not cluing in before.

  Slate mopped his face with a hand. “Oh man. Story of my life.”

  “Don’t tell me…” Magnus started, and I shot him a look, shutting him up mid-sentence. He cleared his throat. “Let’s get out of here. Come on.”

  It was dark out by the time we settled into the camp Magnus had been living at for the last while.

  “How did you visit us without being detected?” I asked, glancing over at Loweck. She was lying on the ground, and the liquid had stopped flowing from her injury. She made a few whirring noises, but her eyes remained gray.

  Slate was eating something and pouting. There was grass here, but not much else. The ship was concealed under a sheet of the same material we used to cloak our ships. Magnus was pulling out all the stops here. That explained how he’d come and gone with ease.

  “Like I said, these guys are pretty dumb, and the cloaking stuff helped. But they do seem to have some serious commerce going on here. There were some large transport vessels lowering through the atmosphere, so I had to check it out. It looks like they’re selling the stone slabs to outsiders. The whole operation is happening about a hundred miles from the other side of the prison.” Magnus fumbled through his pack and pulled out a bottle of Scotch.

  “Are you kidding me?” I asked, rolling my eyes at him.

  “Could you imagine if I was stuck here alone for ten days without it?” Magnus asked, and I had to laugh. Even Slate cracked a grin.

  “That’s a new one, Mag.” Slate kept eating, but he was warming up a bit.

  Magnus unscrewed the cap, and I was actually surprised to see it was unopened. When he saw my expression, he laughed. “You don’t think I brought just the one bottle, do you?”

  That had us all in stitches, and it felt good. He took a swig and passed it to Slate. “Here you go, pup. Sorry your girlfriend’s a bot.” The words, while a little harsh, were sincere.

  “All good. I hope she’s okay. She wouldn’t have been hurt if it wasn’t for us,” Slate said.

  “She’d also still be trapped at the prison,” I told him, and he nodded slowly as he passed the bottle to me.

  I held it in my hands and turned the label to face me. “You can’t be serious.”

  Magnus smirked. “The very same.”

&nb
sp; I couldn’t believe it. “You kept bottles from the liquor store we visited the day you bartered for Nat’s engagement ring?”

  “I do. There may be one or two safely at home.”

  I lifted it to my lips and drank. I wasn’t much of a Scotch man, but after being in prison for the last ten days, it tasted like liquid gold.

  “You, my friend, are a nutcase.” I passed it over to him and changed the subject. “What’s the plan? We have to figure this out.”

  “They may be on the defensive after what we did today,” Magnus said. “I was thinking of waiting it out a few days before striking. They may think we left.”

  I considered this, but hated leaving Karo and the others there any longer than we had to.

  “I can help.” The voice startled us all, and Magnus almost dropped his bottle to the grass.

  “Loweck,” Slate said, moving to her side. She sat up.

  “I guess you know now,” she said.

  “That you’re robotic?” Slate asked.

  “I’m a cyborg. Not quite organic, not quite robot,” she explained.

  “Were you made this way?” Magnus asked.

  She accepted Slate’s assistance up, and he unfolded another seat for her. “My city was invaded. They destroyed everything. I was left alive, but barely. Someone happened up on me after they left, stripping us of everything valuable. I was saved, but at a price,” she said, head lowered, looking at the soft light of the lantern.

  “I’m sorry.” It was all Slate could say, and he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. “Are you okay now?” He nodded to her arm.

  “I’m fine. This arm is mechanical.” She used her other hand to knock on it. “This one isn’t.” She smiled. “I have to power off to fix any major issues, but there are essentially small nanobots inside me that attend to any issues. It has its benefits.”

  “No kidding,” I said. “You told us you could help save our friends. How?”

  She explained, and we huddled around, listening until late into the night. By the time we were ready to sleep for the night, we had our plan.

  The star rose over the horizon, and my eyes blinked open. Slate was already up, packing things away, and I glanced over to see Magnus’ chest rising and falling slowly. Loweck was standing on the edge of the grass patch staring toward the prison, which wasn’t visible from this distance.

  “You good, boss?” Slate asked me as I rose to my feet. My neck hurt, and the lack of food and water as well as good sleep was catching up to me.

  I stretched my arms out, feeling my spine pop. “As good as I can be. I’ll be better when we’re getting the hell off this rock-covered world.”

  “Me too.”

  “Do we have enough firepower for this?” I asked him.

  “Probably not, but when has that ever stopped us before?” he said with a grin.

  He was right, but these little prison guards didn’t seem like the type you could negotiate with.

  We had a quick meal and, an hour later, we were inside the ship again. Magnus attached the cloaking sheet across it, connecting it to the outer sides. We knew it wouldn’t hide us fully, but if the others were outside in pit three, we’d have a good shot of rescuing them. If they weren’t, it was on to plan B.

  The trip didn’t take very long as Magnus moved us over the great shield of bleak black rock.

  “Two pulse rifles, a pistol, and…” He held up some tool we’d found inside the ship. “Whatever this is.”

  “I’ll take the pistol,” I said, knowing the other two preferred the rifles. They were also better marksmen than I was.

  “Maybe Loweck should stay in the ship. You know, our getaway driver,” Slate said.

  “I don’t think so. I’ll be more help out there,” she said confidently. Her long hair was pulled into a ponytail, and she appeared ready to go. Her orange-tinged skin was flushed, like a blistering sunburn.

  I stood beside Magnus, watching the live camera feeds from below the square ship. We were nearing the prison, and we moved over pit four, heading for three. Inside it, thirty prisoners went through the never-ending cutting of stone, stacking the slabs only to mine more. I felt bad for them, having experienced a few days of the hard work and monotony. I couldn’t imagine a lifetime of it.

  “Everyone ready?” Magnus asked, and when we all shouted our answer, he lowered toward pit three. It was empty. “I had a feeling,” he said, raising us up.

  “We have company,” I said, pointing to the main viewer to my left. “Drones. Five of them.”

  The ship shook lightly as the drones attacked. Their shots were feeble, but with enough of them, they’d be able to take us on.

  “Plan B,” Magnus said, moving us faster now, this time toward the prison as we’d discussed.

  Drone fire shot out, but with our cloaking device, they were having a hard time tracking us, especially with Magnus’ erratic flying.

  We were tossed around inside the compact ship, and Slate caught Loweck as she tumbled across the floor.

  “Will you ease up a bit?” I urged Magnus.

  “Hold on to your hats.” The warning came too late, and he drove the ship toward the prison. My feet lifted, hovering me inches over the floor. I tasted my stomach as we lurched, and soon we settled into a straight line. “You know the drill. Go go go!”

  I opened the hatch, and Slate shoved me up; the rope was clasped to my belt, and I jumped. The sky was gray, and a few drones blasted toward me, hitting the roof instead. “You’re making this easier on me,” I said to the drones. Slate was at my side a second later, then Loweck. Magnus must have changed his mind about coming with us, because he lifted away as soon as we’d detached our tethers, leaving us alone on the prison roof.

  We watched as the drones duplicated Magnus’ actions, chasing after him. “Okay. We know Karo, Polvertan, and Dreb are in this building. We find them. We extract them into the courtyard as planned. Magnus will find us.” I took the lead, but before I finished my quick speech, Loweck was placing the explosives on the stone roof.

  Slate and I stepped into the shadows, hearing guards shouting from the ground. They couldn’t see us, but it sounded like they knew we were there. “I hope these bombs have enough kick. Magnus sure came prepared,” Slate said, and as Loweck neared us, she pressed the detonator. The entire roof shook, sending us off our feet. When the dust settled, a hole the size of a bathtub had been blasted into the rock.

  “Looks good to me,” I said. If each of the four quadrants of the prison followed the same footprint, we’d be blown above their kitchen storage. The guards were rarely inside there, since the prisoners did all the food preparation. Slate grabbed my arm, and I climbed through the hole, wishing I had armor on, or at least more than my dirty old jumpsuit. He let go and I dropped the last seven feet, bending my knees to absorb the landing.

  He was beside me in a second, and Loweck jumped, landing softly and impressively without assistance. Apparently, there were advantages to being a cyborg.

  One of the local prisoners stood there, five feet from us, his eyes close to popping out of his head. He blinked, eyelids slowly arcing over his pupils.

  Loweck said something in their language and he raised his hands, crouching to the ground. She said something else, and the prisoner pointed out the door, and then right. He gibbered something I couldn’t understand.

  “The layout is a mirror of ours. They’re detained in the cells. He says they weren’t sent to the pits today because of what happened yesterday,” Loweck said.

  Pit four remained in operation, but I was willing to bet it had far more security than two lazy guards. That might mean there were fewer guards stationed here at the prison today. Things were looking up.

  We ran, Loweck in the lead. Slate struggled to keep up with her, and I took the rear. The pulse pistol was tight in my grip, and when I felt more than heard the volley of fire from the harpoon lasers, I ducked, rolling through an open doorway. When the shooting dissipated, I could hear their sl
ow footsteps from the hall. Slate and Loweck hadn’t stopped, and I hoped they were already at the cells.

  The shadow of a prison guard entered the dim room, and I didn’t hesitate. I fired, hitting him squarely in the chest. The other returned fire at me, and I stayed low, aiming at his legs. I hit, and he buckled. They were writhing in pain, and I crept over to them, peeking out the door to make sure more weren’t hiding there. When I saw the coast was clear, I kicked away their guns, and flicked my pistol to stun.

  “You don’t deserve this.” I fired once, twice, and they both went limp.

  I heard more fire from the direction of the prison cells, and I ran, tapping my earpiece. “Magnus, you okay?”

  He screamed, an exasperated cheer. “These little dorks don’t know who they’re messing with. I’ve managed to confuse and crash most of the drones. You have the targets?”

  “Not yet. Working on it.” I moved slowly, keeping close to the wall. I turned the corner in the hall and saw the solitary guard creeping up behind Slate. Before I could aim and fire, Loweck shoved Slate to the side and kicked out, knocking the harpoon gun from the alien’s tentative grip. She kicked again, this time a sweeping roundhouse, and he spun to the ground, unmoving.

  I didn’t want to fight with her and was happy to have her on our team. “Karo!” Slate shouted. “Pol! Dreb!” A few aliens in cells shouted, and over the sudden influx of voices, I heard a familiar one.

  “I’m here! I’m here!” Karo’s voice carried to me loudly.

  I ran past Slate and Loweck, and saw the Theos standing behind the energy barrier. He looked terrible. His thick white hair was long and lanky, greasy. He was thin, like he hadn’t eaten in weeks, and I wondered how bad I must appear to him.

  “We’re taking you out,” I told him, and Loweck was there. She typed something into the control panel, and it flashed red. She tried again, swearing in another language, before it repeated the red notification.

  “Damn it. This should do the trick.” Her finger pointed toward it, and a tiny rod extended toward the panel. It stuck inside, and I saw a blue current course from her hand into the controls. The red light turned green before smoke rose from the device, and the barrier dissolved. Karo stumbled out, and I gripped his arm.