FALLEN STARS: DARKEST DAYS (THE STAR SCOUT SAGA Book 2)

by GARY DARBY

  He wanted to time his surprise with the setting sun so that the scouts could take advantage of the darkness to aid their escape. So for now, it was to be short sprints and then wait for his hunters to catch up.

  The afternoon wore on while Dason led his pursuers. He was careful not to get so far ahead that he would lose his trackers, but he made sure that they didn’t slip ahead of him either.

  Breathing hard, Dason stopped to kneel behind a downed rotting tree whose decomposing bark fed a collection of giant, orange-tinted frondlike plants. He wiped his sleeve across his lips to wipe the salty sweat off and drank deep through his mouth tube.

  He was about to stand and dart off when his communicator clicked open. “Thorne, you know who this is. Are they awake?”

  Dason spun in a quick circle to ensure no large alien was within earshot, before replying softly, “No.”

  “Any sign of them waking up?”

  “No.”

  There was a long pause before the killer said, “If I find out that you’re trying something, you know the consequences.”

  His voice full of suspicion, the Gadion said, “You sound winded. Why is that when you’re just sitting in a cave?”

  “You’d sound winded too,” Dason replied in anger, “if you were speaking to the slimy scum who killed your team leader.”

  The man’s laugh was harsh, grating. “And you just keep remembering that, too.”

  He stopped before saying, “I’ll check back soon; same instructions as before. Out.”

  Dason released a deep breath. That had been hard, but it appeared he’d pulled it off. Now it was time to get going again. The Jakuta could move fast, but so far Dason had stayed ahead and he seemed to be more adept moving across the wooded terrain.

  Dason began to rise when he froze in place.

  XT voices!

  And in front of him, not behind. Had they heard him and were now zeroing in on his location? Dason eased down and snapped his head first to the right and then to the left.

  He was in trouble.

  The extraterrestrials had him cornered on three sides. Moreover, not only was the fourth side the direction he did not want to go, he had to consider that the aliens had left it unguarded to lure him into a trap.

  Not willing to chance the possibility of ensnarement by taking the bait, Dason went to his belly to try a ground sneak away from the closest aliens. He had crept just a few meters when he spotted forest green boots in the undergrowth.

  Two aliens walked right toward him, pushing their weapons’ snout into the bushes while peering into the undergrowth. And judging by their cautious approach, they must have overheard him and knew he was near.

  Dason silently backtracked, managing to keep just ahead of the oncoming aliens. His mind raced. Should he drop them with a stun charge, and make a run for it?

  He swiftly discarded that idea. There were too many; he wouldn’t make it more than a few steps before they’d bring him down in a hail of blaster fire.

  Dason spied a large rotted log, half hidden by overgrowth several meters away. He slipped up to it, and found that the pitted trunk had split open on one side when it fell, forming a large enough hole for him to crawl into.

  He started to push his legs into the dark crevice but stopped. The wooden log’s back part was too dark for him to see what lay there. Was he about to slide into some denizen’s home?

  The crunching of dead leaves by approaching footsteps made up his mind. With a deep breath, he eased his legs first and then the rest of his body into the mass of crumbling wood. He gathered up nearby moss and leaves to cover his head that lay exposed on one side.

  He went into the scout freeze, his breathing shallow and quiet. One hand held his L-gun, the other his knife. The footsteps came closer to the log.

  A sudden horrible realization seized him. What if these creatures had an apparatus similar to the LifeSensor? What if they were using it right now to track him to his hiding place?

  A powerful surge of adrenaline rushed through his body, and he fought the almost overwhelming fight-or-flee response. Through sheer willpower, he forced himself to lie motionless in the log. He gripped his stunner across his chest; its barrel pointed outward.

  The footsteps stopped.

  Through tiny slits in the moss that covered his face, he could see the back of the alien’s torso and head. Its shadow fell across the trunk’s opening.

  Dason’s heartbeat thudded in his ears. One slow step at a time, the star creature pivoted near the log. A low, deep bass rumbling came from its throat.

  The tall alien took a few steps and stopped. Near Dason’s waist came a soft plop. As if in slow motion, Dason tilted his head downward. Small, bulging luminous eyes glowed in the log’s dark recess. A second later, the creature trundled into a small beam of sunlight.

  Resembling an African giant toad, the squatty creature sat unmoving. Without blinking, two of its eyes stared at Dason, while the third rotated in a sweeping motion.

  Thin lips framed a set of wicked tiny teeth. Protruding from the toad’s chest lay a green fleshy sac with a fluted opening that bulged in and out, as the creature breathed.

  Soft footsteps told Dason that the big alien moved away, but how far away he didn’t know. He couldn’t chance moving, not yet anyway. One sound from him could alert the XT to his presence.

  The creature’s mottled and rough exterior had patches of a ruddy dark orange. Now the coloration of those spots began to change from a carrot like color to crimson.

  As a rattlesnake shakes its rattles to forewarn, Dason sensed that the creature’s color change was to warn the unwary that it was dangerous and to stay away.

  His right hand lowered his blade from near his neck to his chest. He dared not risk the sound of a stunner going off with the alien still so close. If he had to kill the thing, it would have to be a sudden, silent knife stroke to its toad-like body.

  The creature waddled forward, its coloration now a dark red. Its sac started to engorge. Without a sound, Dason laid his L-gun on his chest and brought his left hand up to protect his face.

  Just then, a tawny-colored jet spray of fluid erupted from the creature’s engorged sac and struck Dason’s free hand square in the palm. With a swift thrusting jab, Dason skewered the animal.

  His hand felt like he had thrust it into scalding water. He drew his knife from the creature’s lifeless body. Jakuta or no Jakuta, Dason knew that he had to move out of the log—now.

  The rustling at his feet in the hollowed-out trunk’s leaf-strewn bark could only mean one thing. He was lying in a nest of the poisonous things!

  Chapter Fourteen

  Star Date: 2443.062

  Unnamed planet in the Helix Nebula

  With his left hand quivering against his chest amidst waves of pain, Dason pushed at the moss covering the log’s opening. He had to get out and get out now before the things attacked.

  He pulled himself into the sunlight and whipped his head around to peer over the log’s weathered and wrinkled surface. Just disappearing over a small knoll was a Jakuta. From its movements, it appeared that it hadn’t heard Dason pull himself out of the crumbling bark.

  Dason holstered his L-gun and knife, and on shaky knees made his way to the broad trunk of a neighboring tree.

  Using some small bushes at the tree’s base for concealment, he opened his medico-kit. With his good hand, he unsealed a tube of BurnBalm and spread a liberal amount of the gel over his swollen hand.

  He considered giving himself another neuro and hemo antitoxin injection but decided against the idea. He already had had two doses thanks to the attack of the spider creature and didn’t want to chance an overdose unless he felt it was absolutely necessary to save life or limb.

  Scrunching down lower in the bushes, he held the injured hand against his chest. The embedded analgesic in the medicine calmed the fire in his hand. He sat still for long minutes, nursing his wounded hand and waiting for the Jakuta to move farther away.

&
nbsp; The sun was lowering toward the horizon when he pulled his hand away from his chest and attempted to move stiff and puffy fingers. He eyed a hand the color of a firebrick.

  Can’t things just bite around here? He thought.

  With the sun sliding ever closer to the hilltop’s crest, Dason knew he couldn’t wait any longer and had to move. After ensuring that none of his alien antagonists was nearby, he opened his communicator and stated in a flat voice, “This is Thorne.”

  “Go ahead,” replied the Faction rogue.

  “The XTs are up,” Dason stated. “We’re starting to move. Where are you?”

  “Not so fast. You don’t sound right. You trying to trick me?”

  “No. I’m hurt, courtesy of one of the locals.”

  The man snorted in reply. “Maybe you better learn where to put your hands and feet.”

  Dason’s rejoinder was sharp in return. “You’re right, especially since there seems to be so many vermin around.”

  The man’s hard laugh nettled Dason, but he kept silent. “Been called worse, kid. Now listen, you hustle those aliens along. Make for the tallest hill overlooking the valley. Look for a wide ravine at the base. When you start up, call me.”

  “And no doubt the same one where you ambushed our teammates?” Dason retorted. “I don’t think so. We’ll take a little detour. I’ll contact you when I believe that we're close.”

  “You’re not calling the shots here. I am. And I—”

  “No,” Dason said in a commanding manner. “I’ll bring the aliens to you, but the exchange will be on my terms. You want the extraterrestrials; I want my teammates back. Alive. And it’s obvious we can’t trust you, so don’t ask me to.”

  There was a long silence before the Gadion rasped out, “All right, but if I think for one second that you’re trying to pull something—well, you already know the consequences.”

  “You don’t need to keep reminding me!” Dason responded harshly. “Just wait for my call.”

  Dason took a deep breath. Well, he’d set the playing field. Now it was just a matter of the pieces falling into place. He knew his plan was a risky gambit, but after what the Faction thugs had done to Bianca, he was under no illusion that they’d honor any pact.

  No, they’d take the small extraterrestrials and reserve the business end of a laz-gun for Dason and the remaining scouts. A quick dispatch and no witnesses to the act.

  With a deep breath, Dason eased to his feet. He knew what he needed to do now. No stealth. No slow-sneaks.

  Just a noisy beeline run straight to where he felt the Faction hid themselves and their captives. All he needed after that was for the Jakuta to take the bait and follow.

  With one last look around, Dason gathered his legs under him and bolted from his cover. His legs felt rubbery and not at all strong, but there was nothing he could do about it other than to keep moving as best he could.

  It didn’t take long for him to hear the XTs’ guttural howls. No doubt, they had spotted him.

  Several laz-bolts flashed by, one of them close enough that he felt a slight tingle over his body. In surprise, he thought, that felt more like a stunner charge than a disruptor blast!

  They were shooting to stun, rather than kill.

  Nonetheless, it didn’t stop him from putting on an extra burst of speed and beginning a zigzag pattern through the forest. It was possible that there were still star beings between him and his goal, but he’d just have to deal with that if and when it occurred.

  The blindside blow sent him and the Jakuta catapulting over the lip of a dry creek bed. The alien’s momentum carried him farther down the rock-lined slope while Dason managed to grab the edge of a protruding craggy stone and halt his slide.

  He rolled once and came up on his feet just as the Jakuta wheeled around. Dason’s quick-draw stunner shot grazed the alien giant. The XT staggered backward but didn’t go down.

  With a vicious upper thrust from the heel of his open palm, Dason caught the alien square under the chin. The extraterrestrial’s head snapped back; his arms went limp, and he crashed to the ground.

  Dason spun away and dashed up the small ravine, as if a fox flushed from its hiding spot. On both sides of him, Dason could hear the aliens’ rasping tongues. He didn’t have to be a linguistic expert to know that the rise in octave meant that they were on to him.

  He had once again been very lucky back there in the fight with the Jakuta. Either the alien was overconfident or he had misjudged his attack, but Dason had no illusions—if the group jumped him, he didn’t stand a chance.

  Dason raced through the forest, using trees or brush for cover while sometimes dashing through open meadows to show himself to his pursuers. He never got too far ahead to lose his trackers, but never close enough for them to get off a clear shot.

  An hour later, his lungs heaving, Dason bent over to suck in great drafts of cool air. Through a break in the forest canopy, he spied the crown of the tall hill he sought. Sharp barks from his alien pursuers him into a stumbling run toward the nearby hillside.

  Legs and arms pumping; Dason dashed toward the largest mount’s flanks, making no effort whatsoever to conceal himself. It was now or never; he’d have to take his best guess as to the Faction’s hideout.

  With fatigue and pain slowing his every step, Dason had little doubt that his pursuers would have no trouble staying close behind.

  The trick now would be to stay just far enough ahead that when the aliens hit the hideout, the ensuing fight would be chaotic enough that Dason could slip, unnoticed, into the Faction lair and liberate the captive scouts.

  A voice snapped through his earpiece. “Thorne! Where are you?”

  Dason smiled to himself, the Faction’s anxious hail could only mean that he was close enough that the Faction thugs could hear the XTs’ noisy pursuit.

  That was good, but what to say in response? His mind racing, Dason had the gleaming of an idea. Into his comms he half-shouted, “Under attack. Bottom of the ravine. Help!”

  Maybe, just maybe, the thought of the riches the little aliens meant to such men would outweigh their sense of self-preservation, and they would venture from their hidey-hole to join in the fight.

  Dason knew it was a long shot, but he was making this up as he went, and at this point, he was willing to try anything.

  He cut around a shoulder-high thick set of bushes and skidded to a stop at the top of a narrow dirt bank overlooking a broad, gravel-filled ravine. He hoped it was the right gully because the oncoming XTs were boxing him in, and cutting off his escape routes.

  Dason lowered his head and sprinted along the bank’s top, his boots sending small pebbles spraying into the ravine below. The ravine curved in an elbow to the left, but to his right, Dason spotted a large V-shaped cleft in the hillside’s flank.

  Dason’s eyes widened and he nodded to himself. That was where the Gadions were hiding. Behind him and to each side he could hear the thuds of booted feet pounding over the pebbled streambed.

  He thought to himself that if he had been one of the aliens, he too would have thought that they were about to box Dason in against the hillside, and there was no way out.

  If he had not moved at just that instant, the disruptor blast would have hit him full-torso. There was no “tingle” when the bolt passed close to his chest.

  The fiery red bolt had been a death shot.

  Moreover, it came from straight ahead, not from the side or behind. Without a doubt, Dason knew who fired at him. Another bolt zipped by his head, close enough that he felt heat on his sweat-streaked cheek.

  The shots must have come close to his pursuers as well, for their throaty speech went up in pitch and volume. Though Dason couldn’t understand their words, it was obvious that they didn’t appreciate being shot at and were in full voice venting their displeasure.

  A thicket of shrubs several meters ahead swayed but not from the wind. Dason cut to the right and then pivoted to his left, just before a scarlet bolt shattered the r
ock that he had just ducked behind.

  If he hadn’t seen the leafy branches move, the disruptor shot would have burned a hole clean through him.

  Tired of being someone’s practice target, Dason dove headfirst over the ravine’s embankment and landed hard on the dry streambed’s smooth stones.

  For just a second, he saw stars before rolling to his feet. Using the ravine’s high sides as cover, he stumbled up the rock-filled gulch.

  Above him, Dason heard someone shout followed by the deep thrum of disruptors firing. The Jakutas’ return fire told him that they had joined in the battle.

  He stopped for a second to catch his breath. His jaws tightened while he listened to the disruptor fire’s mini booms and sonic whistles.

  “May you both be rewarded with what you so richly deserve,” he muttered before turning to speed once again up the tree-lined gully.

  Coming to a bend in the ravine, Dason skidded to a stop, sending gravel and sand flying. He crept up the embankment and peeked over.

  The hill’s shoulder hid the cleft, but he was very close. Keeping low, Dason trotted around concealing brush until he was next to the cleft opening.

  Soft shadows clothed the hillside for some distance, and below him, he could see the crimson and scarlet light streaks from the two warring parties.

  A self-satisfied smile lifted the corners of his mouth.

  It appeared that the Faction and the Jakuta were battling each other, which suited him just fine.

  Dason eased around the cleft’s jutting flank and froze in place. Several meters ahead, a man squatted behind a large boulder, facing the sounds of the fighting with a laz-gun at the ready. Riveted on the skirmish below, the man didn’t notice Dason creeping against the hillside.

  Flattening himself against the dirt outcrop in a crouch, Dason pulled out his weapon. He drew a careful bead but before he could fire, the Faction member jumped up and ran toward the battle. He scrambled between two jagged boulders and disappeared.