by Linda Hull
Finally the herd thinned out and the communicator buzzed. “We’ve got trouble over here,” said Curtis, his voice tense.
“What’s up?” Everett patched communications through the main video feed. Curtis’s face appeared onscreen.
“Lonnie’s injured,” he reported.
“How bad?” Donna asked.
“It’s bad,” said Curtis. He moved away from the camera so they could see the scene behind him. “When the base tilted, things went flying in here, people included. Lonnie was knocked out of her bunk and got cut on some glass. We can’t stop the bleeding.”
Megan was visible in the background, tending to a bloodied Lonnie on the floor. “Pressure on the wound,” said Donna.
“I know that, God damn it,” shouted Megan. “I’m a medic! It’s not working. We need the cauterizer. It’s with you guys at Mobile II.”
“I’m coming to get it,” said Curtis.
“There’s no time!” Megan argued. “She’ll bleed out before you get back.”
“We’ll take her there then,” Curtis said. “Let’s move!”
Everett was staring at the read out from the ground scanner at Base Camp. “Wait, there’s trouble,” he announced. “I see multiple targets approaching…”
“You can’t go out now!” warned Donna. “There’s something moving out there…” She stared at the scanner’s display screen over Everett’s shoulder.
“I’m trying to get them on camera to identify…” he said, chewing his lower lip.
Donna looked at the moving dots on Everett’s scanner. “Carrion birds?” she asked.
“I don’t think so,” he said. “These targets are too big. This is probably what the buffalo were running from.”
“Hyena-cats,” said Donna, her heart sank. Hyena-cats were the planet’s prime predator. About the size of an earth grizzly bear, these animals usually prowled the mountain and rainforests, but would pursue large prey onto the plains. She and Everett stared intently at the screen as the camera tried to lock on the moving targets.
“We’ve got to fucking hurry,” said Curtis on the video screen. “I’ll carry Lonnie - Megan’s got a weapon. We’re headed out now.”
“Negative,” said Everett, but Curtis had already cut off the communicator. Everett and Donna could only watch the action unfold on the video screen. “This is a bad idea,” said Everett.
“There are plenty of dead buffalo out there. Maybe the hyena-cats will take the easy meals tonight,” Donna suggested.
Donna and Everett stared intently at the video screen’s wide shot of Base Camp. So far, no hyena cats were visible. The VTV was parked about ten meters away from the entrance ramp. The main door to the structure opened.
“Fast,” Donna said. “They’ve got to move fast…”
Megan emerged first, moving quickly, rifle at the ready. Curtis followed with Lonnie over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold. Megan spotted a hyena cat creeping around the left side of base and fired her weapon at it. A second hyena cat leapt from the roof of the base and hit Curtis, knocking him to the ground. A third and fourth appeared, joining the one on Curtis and Lonnie. Megan ran in a blind panic and was hit after only a few strides. Everett and Donna stopped watching.
***
Now, four weeks later, Donna Rivera sat in the observation tower next to Roger, the monkey bird, and stared across the plain at Base Camp. She drank the last swallow of lukewarm coffee, savoring the sweet aftertaste. The combination of caffeine, sugar and cool air invigorated her. “Today is the day,” she told Roger. He chirped in response. “Don’t you try to talk me out of it,” she replied. “I’ll have enough trouble with Everett.” Donna stuffed her equipment into her rucksack, opened the trap door and climbed down the ladder, with Roger hovering close behind. He did not follow her inside.
Once in the shelter, she went straight to the supply cabinet.
Everett watched her from the open access hatch in the floor, saying nothing as she filled a small canteen with water. He broke his silence when Donna removed a pistol and checked it for ammunition. “Did you see something out there?” he asked, alarmed.
“There’s nothing out there,” she said, buckling on a holster. “I’m going to hike to Base Camp.”
“No,” said Everett. He unfolded his long arms and legs and stood, oddly graceful for a man who resembled a stick insect. “That’s a bad idea.”
“It is ridiculous to stay stranded here when everything we need is so close.”
Everett blocked Donna’s path to the door. “I won’t let you go.”
“You can’t stop me,” Donna joked. “I have a gun.”
“Please listen to me, Donna.” Everett said. “There is nothing in that camp that’s worth your life.”
“The research is worth my life,” she said. “That’s why we’re here.” She turned away from him and continued packing her bag.
“The research already took seven lives. It doesn’t need yours too.” He moved to stand next to her.
Donna didn’t look at him. “Everett, it was my dream to come here…”
“And here you are.”
“…my dream to work with Regina. I need to continue what we started.”
“Fine. Continue it. Continue away. Here. With everything we’ve got here.”
“It’s not enough,” she argued. “The main database is at Base Camp. The samples we collected are at Base Camp. Food is at Base Camp…”
“We have food here.”
“I can’t stand the thought of another of those God-awful protein bars!”
“I can’t stand the thought of you becoming another meal for those monsters!”
“Look, it’s only ten k away. I can make it in less than two hours. With the VTV I can be back in fifteen minutes to pick you up.”
“Two hours! Exposed to God only knows what kind of creatures out there!”
Donna stood. “I know what kind of creatures are out there, Everett. I catalogued them.”
“And you watched them eat three people.”
“I know what to look for now,” Donna said. “These animals act according to their biology and survival instincts. I’ve been observing their behavior. I’ll see them before they see me and I’ll protect myself. ” She picked up her rucksack and shrugged it onto her shoulders. “I’m going.” Without making eye contact, Donna brushed past Everett to the door.
“Wait,” he said.
Donna hit the button and the door slid open. “No.”
“I’m coming with you.”
Donna turned in the doorway and watched Everett take a rifle out of the weapon case. He then strapped on a handgun in a holster.
“Very nice, Rambo,” Donna grinned. “I thought you were a tree-hugging pacifist.”
“Yeah, but the trees here just might try to eat me.” He took out another handgun and stuffed it into his side pocket.
“You think you might want to bring some ammo too or are you just going to throw those at whatever might pop up?”
Everett stared blankly at the selection. “What goes with what?” he asked.
“You’ve had weapons training…”
“I didn’t pay attention. I’m a tree-hugging pacifist.”
“Then put that stuff back,” Donna said. “I’ll be fine on my own. You don’t have to do this.”
“Yes I do. I’m not letting you go out there alone. Isn’t that one of the rules set up by the Great Regina anyway?”
“If you don’t know how to use a weapon you’re far more dangerous than anything we’ll…”
“Then show me how to use one,” said Everett. “We have a two hour walk.”
“Alright. The blue box has cartridges for the rifle. Those black things on the top shelf are clips for the handgun. Take the other gun out of your pocket. If you shoot yourself in the foot I’m not carrying you.
***
Donna gave Everett a refresher course on weapons as they set off across the plain toward Base Camp, using stones for target practi
ce, not Roger as Everett initially suggested. Everett turned out to be a pretty decent shot. The terrain was a mixture of knee-high bluish-green grass and barren areas strewn with rocks. An occasional short bush or larger rock broke the monotony. About twenty minutes into their walk, they spotted an eagle flying over the rainforest. Donna and Everett dropped to the ground, lying perfectly still until it circled out of sight deeper into the rainforest.
After the eagle sighting, Everett was extremely on edge and kept his eyes on the sky, sometimes walking backward. Donna was trying not to laugh at him when she fell into the hole.
The ground in front of her had appeared as firm as any, but Donna broke through the crust falling two meters deep and landed on her rump. It was very dark except for a small patch of sunlight from the hole she had fallen through. That patch was made smaller when Everett looked down at her through it. “Are you ok?” he asked.
“Yeah,” she said too quickly. As her eyes adjusted to the dark she noticed a sparkle to the ground around her. She was in a tunnel. The air was warm and smelled alive. Donna stood up, brushing dirt from her hands onto her pants. She looked up at Everett, an easy arm’s reach away.
“Give me your hands,” he said. “I’ll pull you up.”
Donna stared down the length of the tunnel. Something scraped against rock.
“What’s the matter?” Everett asked. “Is there something down there?”
“No,” she lied, knowing that he would freak out. Donna extended her arms, Everett grasped them and pulled. She climbed out easily and immediately began to walk away.
“You don’t want to sit for a minute?”
“No, I’m good.”
“You have a sparkly butt.”
Donna brushed some more dust off her pants and picked up her pace. “Don’t let it distract you from looking for raptors,” she said.
Everett caught up with Donna. The terrain began a slight grade up and their pace slowed a bit. There was more dirt and rock here than grass and Donna watched the ground looking for signs of sparkle that could indicate thin crust. Closer now, they had a better view of Base Camp. “How bad do you think it will be?” Everett asked.
“We can see lights at night, so the power is still on,” Donna said. “We’ll have to fix the struts to level it out, but I’m looking forward to a hot shower and a hot meal.”
“I meant outside. The bodies.”
“Oh,” said Donna. “It’s been a couple of weeks. I doubt there will be much left. Scavengers and all, you know. There’s very little wasted in nature.”
“That’s really pretty cold,” Everett said. “Those were our friends.”
“‘Were’ is the operative word, Everett. They died. Their souls went on to the next life or to heaven if you believe in that kind of thing. After that the body is just meat and bone. Fuel.”
“Crap,” said Everett.
“Eventually,” agreed Donna.
“No,” said Everett. “My foot is stuck.”
Donna turned around. Everett’s foot had gone ankle deep in a hole. She stood in place. “Pull it out and come on,” she said.
“I’m trying. You want to give me a hand?”
Donna stared at the ground around Everett’s feet. She backed up.
“What the hell!” he complained. The ground beneath him suddenly crumbled and erupted with eight black reticulated arms. Jets of white sparkling liquid sprayed out of the giant spider’s abdomen, cutting off Everett’s screams and covering him in a shimmering, suffocating web. Donna saw no more because she ran.
She ran first in horror and then in elation. The sun on her skin, the wind in her hair, the ground beneath her feet, the adrenalin coursing through her body made her feel alive. She was light enough not to break the surface and fast enough to out run anything that chased her and strong enough to fight off anything that did. Donna ran toward Base Camp and its lights and computers and fresh water and food, oh! The food! A larder full of vegetables and fruits and bread and cheese and flavored drinks and wine and chocolate and…
***
Donna Rivera opened her eyes to the dim red light in the interior of the mining crew transport ship. She was momentarily disoriented – her day dreams were becoming more and more vivid. This one seemed so real that she could still feel the warmth of the sun and the ground below her feet. As if beyond her control, the dreams now usually came to increasingly violent ends. Donna closed her eyes and tried to will herself into a new dream, but she was too hungry. She was tethered to reality, breathing in cold antiseptic air and free-floating against the restraints of the control station chair.
She reached toward the console before her and tapped the ship’s computer awake. The tiny control room brightened as the screen lit up with playing cards. The computer’s entertainment files were meager – just a couple of card games and four movies which Donna had watched over and over, the characters mixing and blending in her head so much that she hardly knew who was real anymore.
As a supply clerk for the mining colony, Donna did not have access codes to any of the ship’s operational systems other than communications, and that was useless this far out in space. She checked for a reply to her emergency beacon every few hours anyway. Still nothing. Donna took a sip of reclaimed water and swallowed the last of the vitamin packs scavenged from the crew’s baggage. A few clicks finished the Solitaire game and she watched the cards bounce home. She closed the game and the computer’s home screen popped up with the company’s flying monkey logo.
“Hey Roger,” she said.
“Hello,” chirped the interface.
“I’ll be back in a little while. Why don’t you take a nap?”
“OK,” it chirped, being not much of a conversationalist.
Donna waited until the screen saver’s scrolling nature scenes kicked in, then unfastened herself and floated across the room. She used handrails to guide herself down the ship’s short corridor. The only other compartments were the baggage lockers and the stasis bay. The ship had no galley as passengers in stasis had no need for food. Donna floated into the stasis bay aiming for the pod where Everett Jordan lay in hibernation. Tiny flashing lights on the control panel indicated his healthy vital signs. Donna’s own pod was dark, having malfunctioned halfway through the eleven month journey to the mining colony. The seven other pods in the bay were dark as well. Each contained a bloody skeleton stripped of all edible flesh.
###
About the Author
Acknowledgements
Dave Robinson led the editing efforts for “A Matter of Survival” with support from Andrew Gray and D. Yon Klempnar. Andrew Gray developed the cover art concept and the cover graphic was illustrated by 3DGarden (www.3dgarden.org).
Other Dangereye Stories
“The Extraterrestrial Anthology, Volume I: Temblar” is available here
“Cooter” is available here
Connect with us online
https://www.dangereye.com
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