Got Thrills? A Boxed Set (A McCray Collection)

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Got Thrills? A Boxed Set (A McCray Collection) Page 41

by Carolyn McCray


  “With all this activity consuming our reserves, we’ve only got a few hours left, and if we want any margin of safety…” Cleo allowed her sentence to trail off. She could see the frustration in Jarod’s eyes. She felt it too. They had been so close. But still, four diamonds. They were coming out of this more than okay.

  Rob slapped his uncle on the back. “We can always come back. Fully stocked.”

  Jarod shook his head at the boy. “This place will be overrun by then. You didn’t see the café. If anyone gets a whiff of this new strike, it’s over.”

  Everyone looked at Mia’s sensor, the same thought clearly on each person’s mind. Cleo willed the sensor to make some noise, but it just sat there, inert.

  Cleo finally said what had to be said. After all, wasn’t that her job? Marine biologist, nothing. More like professional killjoy. “Jarod, we’ve got what we came for. These four Star Diamonds will bankroll us forever. It eclipses anything Gil has ever accomplished.”

  “But the mother lode…” Jarod punched at the air. “I know it’s out there. Can’t you feel it?”

  As a matter of fact, she could. Cleo knew exactly what Jarod was talking about. It was that feeling of charged electricity coursing through her body. The butterflies in the stomach. The feeling of the first day of school—where everything is pure promise. She felt it, but…”Is it worth our lives?”

  Buton stepped to Cleo’s side, nodding. “I agree. We should turn back.”

  Jarod didn’t seem ready to give it up. Cleo knew what that set of his jaw meant. But there was a thoughtful cast to his eyes that Cleo had never seen from Jarod before. He turned once more to Mia, still scanning with her device.

  “But, Mia, your original readings—”

  “Must have been wrong,” Mia completed his sentence for him, her tone gentle.

  Cleo stepped in, pushing the point home. “Fate doesn’t like being cheated, Jarod. Too many times in a row, and it will turn on you.”

  Buton cocked his head. “Actually, karma—”

  Cleo elbowed Buton in the ribs, cutting off his correction. Jarod was actually thinking for once. She didn’t want anyone getting in the way.

  Jarod’s shoulders relaxed. He looked around at his crew, meeting each of their eyes. “Fine…I give up.” Jarod gazed right at Cleo and smiled.

  Then he disappeared from view.

  * * *

  What was weird about the fall was that it almost seemed like an extension of the moment that Jarod gave up. He had felt the tension drain out of his body, and then the crater rim he was standing on gave way right afterward. Almost like the ground had shrugged for him.

  The next landing jolted Jarod’s right shoulder, bringing him back to a full awareness of his predicament. The lower gravitational pull lessened the impact, but it still hurt. Jarod tried to gain some control over his erratic progress down the steep slope, but nothing doing. There was no stopping this train before it got to the station.

  He continued bouncing down the slope head over heels until he landed full on his head. Jarod found himself completely upside down, propped against a dune of moondust, in the most awkward position he could imagine. Gazing up at his feet was certainly a new perspective for him. He gradually untwisted his body, let out an oomph, and turned himself right side up. Looking up at the crest that had given out from under him, he could see it was a very long way up.

  “That was different,” he said.

  Jarod crawled around, looking for a way back up the slope. He turned to face the dune he had landed against—just in time to see the dust slip away in a curtain-like avalanche, revealing a shallow cave behind it. Inside the cave, a gigantic gemstone glowed with its own inner radiance. It was the size of a basketball.

  Jarod couldn’t move. He sat there for an eternal moment, mesmerized by the sight in front of him. He felt something akin to awe suffuse his body. He breathed out, the breath forming an unconscious word. “Wow…”

  Cleo’s voice coming through his helmet speakers penetrated through Jarod’s gemstone haze, bringing him back to himself for a moment.

  “Jarod! Jarod! Are you okay? We can’t see you!”

  “I’m all right. I’m more than all right. In fact, I’d say I’ve never been better.” Jarod backed away from the cave and peered up. A row of helmets lining the rim of the dune’s edge faced him, concern etched on each face contained within. Jarod waved for the crew to come down.

  They all raced toward him, trying to pick out a path that wouldn’t send them down quite so quickly. When they gathered at the bottom, the radiance from the stone struck their faces. As one, the entire group fell to their knees, basking in the beauty of something alien but intensely and immediately precious to each one of them. Jarod saw his own awe mirrored in each face. It almost looked like they were praying.

  Rob met Jarod’s eye, his tone reverent, but also a little scared. “That is one mother!”

  Jarod knew exactly what he meant.

  * * *

  The trip back to the northeast sector had been largely uneventful, barring a few tense moments between the captain and the doctor. The empty time had allowed Gil to speculate about just what the Rogues and Mia were up to. Visions of fist-sized Star Diamonds danced in his head, followed closely by the delicious look of betrayal, frustration, and despair on Jarod’s face when Gil took them away. It was a look Gil had seen before. It was one he was looking forward to seeing again.

  Gil glanced around at his traveling companions. He could tell that Captain Stavros didn’t really trust him. That was more than fine by Gil. Trust was for losers. All he cared about were results. When they arrived at their destination, Gil and Tal were led up and over a ridge that opened out on one of the largest craters Gil had seen here on the moon. He recognized the crater as the one that had swallowed up the ship he had partially spotted that first day.

  Gil had known he was teaming up with some serious muscle. He hadn’t really had a full appreciation of how much muscle until this moment. As the craft pulled to stop, he found himself down in the bottom of that crater, looking up at the now fully exposed Eclipse, which had to be the biggest, baddest, sleekest outfit he had ever laid eyes on. This ship made his own Vanquisher look like some kid’s toy on Christmas morning. There was nothing Christmasy about this shuttle. His eyes dilated, and his mouth started to water. He had an urge to run his fingers over the hull. Gil was in love.

  Stavros barked out orders. “You two, to that hovercraft. You’ll be coming with our guests and me. You three—take the other. You’re going with Weigner. The rest of you, take whatever vehicle you can find.” The men burst into action, the epitome of military discipline. Gil could see that this was a tightly run outfit.

  Looking closer at the men swirling around the captain, Gil could see the subtle but distinct signs of armed force. These guys were packing, and from what Gil could see, he wasn’t sure he even recognized all the weapons. This was so much better than anything he had imagined when he cornered the doctor back at the bar.

  As Gil and Talon moved toward the closer of the two hovercraft, Gil felt his heart rate accelerate even further. This was no mere hovercraft. This vehicle was designed to seek out and destroy. Built with the same deadly sleek lines as the shuttle, it was clear that peace was not on the designer’s mind while creating this beauty. Gil turned to Talon.

  “Wait ’til Jarod gets a load of this…”

  CHAPTER 12

  On the Moon, far, far away from the diamond fields

  March 31, 2049

  1418 hours, LST

  Cleo grunted as she tried to get her fingers underneath the gigantic stone. Reverence had finally given way to practicality. It was all fine and good to find the sucker, but now they actually had to do something about it. Like picking it up and getting it to their vehicle. Easier said than done. Much easier.

  Cleo had no idea how they were going to accomplish this task. She also found that at least for the moment she didn’t care. This was incredible. The prob
lem they were having was that the diamond was too big to carry easily. Awesome problem to have.

  After much groaning and more than a little swearing, they managed to find some finger holds on the underside of the gargantuan diamond. By all crowding around and creating a sort of basket with their arms and hands, they were able to start moving toward their waiting Moon Rover. Staring down into the surface of the gemstone, Cleo felt like she was sinking under the surface of the water once more, drifting on the currents of the ocean. She had to continually shake herself to keep from getting mesmerized by the glowing, swirling depths of the gorgeous rock.

  “Tidal pool, here we come,” Cleo grunted.

  “Remember the island, baby!” Rob responded.

  Jarod sneered good-naturedly at both of them. “Oh, please…You’re both thinking too small. We could buy Micronesia.”

  Rob laughed, and then turned his attention to their scientist. “Buton, how much do you think it’s really worth?”

  “Conservative estimate?”

  “Sure, why not?”

  “I’d say…twenty-seven billion.” Buton’s tone was as matter-of-fact as Cleo had ever heard it. Hearing him say such an enormous number in that tone of voice made it all the more real. Cleo found that she was more than a little frightened.

  “Billion.” Mia’s face was unreadable. “As in twelve figures?”

  “Conservatively, that is,” Buton clarified. “It could be as much as twice that price.”

  Rob cackled. “You are talking dollars, right?”

  They had reached the Rover. With a final collective heave-ho, they loaded the stone into the truck. Rob and Buton grabbed a tarp and started tying the stone down, covering its glow in the process. All the better, as far as Cleo was concerned. No one could see this. Not yet.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Cleo saw Jarod scanning the horizon. She watched as his spine stiffened. “Oh, crap!” Cleo whipped around to see what had gotten to him.

  Off in the distance, Cleo could see swarms of men overtaking their junker ship by ropes and hooks. She watched in disbelief as their ride home…or at least to the base…toppled to the ground.

  “No, no, no, no, not Gil again.” Cleo fought a sudden urge to spit, remembering at the last minute that she was wearing a helmet.

  “How the…? What the…? He…” Jarod appeared to be having some sort of seizure. “And who the hell is with him?” He started forward, as if he was going to march right over there and give Gil a piece of his mind. Cleo grabbed his elbow, stopping his forward progress. After her initial shock at seeing the destruction of their ship, she had made an important realization.

  “This is not the time, Jarod. For once, we’ve got the jump on the bastard.” At this point, their crew had not been spotted. And Gil could have absolutely no idea of what they had on board their Rover, strapped down and covered up.

  It took Jarod a second or two before what she had said finally landed, but then he nodded his agreement. With the smallest of the diamonds they carried, they might as well have carte blanche. They could purchase any ship here on the Moon as easily as breathing at this point. All they had to do was get back to the base. Then it was just a hop, skip, and a jump to get back home.

  The Rogues all clambered aboard and Jarod whipped the Rover around, pointing them back to civilization. Or the closest they could find here on the Moon.

  * * *

  Something was so satisfying in the act of sheer destruction. Gil enjoyed it even more knowing that he was dismantling the hopes and dreams of his biggest competitor. Well, competitor was perhaps a touch generous.

  Jarod had a nose for good finds. His real problem was that he didn’t have the killer instinct. It had always been that way. Jarod seemed to have some sort of naïve belief that preparation, hard work, and charm would win the day. The idea was laughable. What won the prize was a show of force. Nothing more, nothing less.

  And right now, the show of force was happening right here in front of Gil. And he couldn’t be more pleased. The ship hadn’t looked good to begin with. Now that it was on its side and mostly disassembled, it looked more like scrap metal than something that had ever been flight ready.

  Gil stalked around the edge of the demolition area as military men strapped explosives to the hull of what remained of the ship. As much fun as this was, it wasn’t quite what Gil was looking for. Crushing Jarod’s escape route was an enjoyable side venture. It was not the score.

  The scent of blood was still in the air. Jarod was close to something; Gil could feel it. They were so far off the beaten path…no other teams were within miles of this location. There had to be a reason for it. The feeling was the instinct of the shark, and Gil had never been led astray by it. So, Jarod, where are you right now? Gil knew that Jarod couldn’t be too far off, but they had seen no trace of the crew since they arrived at their site.

  Gil stared off in the horizon, his eye attracted by some sort of movement. No, not movement. Dust. A dust cloud.

  “That’s him! Talon, load up! Go, go, go!”

  The entire fighting force loaded up into every available vehicle. Trucks, Rovers, and bikes joined the sleek hovercraft that were already orienting to the trail of dust kicked up by the Rogues.

  Gil had found his trail of blood, and he was not about to let it go.

  * * *

  The MoonRover lurched again, throwing Buton up against the window, giving him a wonderful view of the Moonscape passing swiftly below. He had never been gladder that he had taken the motion sickness pills. Even with the medication coursing through his veins, Buton felt his stomach tilt and churn with every jolt of the craft. The MoonRover came very close to becoming airborne every time they went over a hill. Jarod did not seem to know how to use the brakes.

  Jarod glanced over his shoulder, his expression hardening. Buton turned to see what had attracted Jarod’s gaze. A fleet of vehicles, their military strength radiating from them, bore down on their location. Fast.

  Rob spoke rhetorically to the rest of the group. “So…this has never happened before, has it? Dude. Anyone else tired of Gil chasing us—with our trunk full of bounty?”

  While the teenage sarcasm might not resonate with Buton, the sentiment behind it certainly did. Looking around at his colleagues, Buton saw that he was not alone. The past damage that Gil had caused the team felt very present to everyone. With one notable exception.

  Mia looked from face to face, apparently seeking some sort of confirmation. Having been there before, Buton recognized how out of the loop the woman must feel, coming into such a tightly knit group. She finally asked the question.

  “Okay, I’ll bite. What happened?

  In a fascinating display of group dynamics at work, everyone’s attention shifted to Cleo. Cleo felt the implied directive and, blunt as always, got straight to the point.

  “He shot our boat out from under us.”

  “Oh.” Clearly Mia had not realized what she was signing up for when she hitched a ride with Jarod. To her credit, she took in the new information and made no outward sign of jumping ship. Buton felt his opinion of the woman shift toward the positive.

  Off in the distance, the outline of the Dark Side of the Moon Café became visible. Buton was not clear on what Jarod’s intent might be…extra supplies would not do much good in these circumstances…but he had no immediate suggestions for a better destination.

  Mia seemed to. She grabbed Jarod’s shoulder.

  “No! Head to the diamond fields!”

  “Babe, we’ve gotta get some wings, pronto.”

  “I know. My ship! We can take it!”

  Jarod took his eyes completely off the terrain in front of him. Buton had to restrain himself from grabbing the wheel out of Jarod’s hands while Jarod focused on Mia.

  “You found another ship?”

  “Sort of. It was a derelict, but the pilot patched it back together. He swears it’s space-worthy.”

  Mia’s description was less than encouraging, but in tr
uth, what other options did they have at the moment? Buton glanced behind them to see the military ships closing in, cutting the distance between with every moment that passed. Action was called for. Action that demanded an immediate choice of destination.

  The Rover crested another hill and almost collided with a sleek, mean-looking hovercraft, a perfect match to the one behind them.

  “Son of a—” Jarod swore. He slammed on the brakes while hauling on the wheel, almost dumping the crew and their cargo down the nearest valley. Buton latched onto the nearest door handle, clamping down on the food that sought to find its way up his trachea.

  “Who the hell are they?” Cleo’s voice rang out in the small space.

  As if in answer, a sharp voice sounded over their headsets. “This is the United States Government. Stop immediately, or—”

  Buton swiped his hand over the sensor to cut off the feed in mid-sentence.

  “Or we will be fired upon,” Buton finished. “Yes, sadly we are familiar with the drill.”

  A realization dawned. The craft carrying Gil and the one identifying itself as from the U.S. Government were identical…and quite unusual…in design. Once more, Gil had found allies in high places. Buton began calculating the best choices for the Rogues’ survival. Options flickered through his mind, the available avenues narrowing as one after another proved untenable for one reason or another.

  The MoonRover sped down the hill while the two hovercraft dove toward them. Gunfire from forced-air rifles peppered the dust just to the side of their vehicle.

  Mia screamed in Jarod’s ear, “We’ve got to get to my ship!”

  “We’ll never make it,” Jarod growled back.

  Buton had found the solution. He spoke with patience. “Make your approach from the rear.”

  “We’re barely going to make it to the front.” Jarod’s tone made it clear he thought that Buton had taken leave of his senses. Always a possibility, of course, and one that any self-respecting scientist keeps in mind. However, the possibility of Buton having tipped into insanity he calculated at less than 1 percent. This solution was ideal.

 

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