The Dead Planet Series: Exodus (Book 1)

by Drew Avera

  Chapter 11

  I was in the middle of the street that ran along the coast of the Archean Sea. I could not remember how I had gotten here and I didn’t remember leaving Thom and Kara in the apartment. I also had no idea how long I had been away, but I enjoyed the feeling of the wind blowing across my face. I could feel a storm brewing in more ways than one. The dark sky reflected in red hues out across the water. It was a sight I had loved in my youth when I came here with my father and Kara. Those memories seemed like a lifetime ago, that little boy seemed like a completely different person altogether. I shoved my hands into my waist pockets to warm them up a bit. The cold current of the sea added a chill to the air that surrounded me. It felt nice, but it did nothing to the burning sensation I felt as hate coursed through my veins.

  I turned in a slow circle and took in my environment. Even after all the years since I had been here last everything still looked as it did before. A single, tall building towered over the rest of the shorter buildings in the area. The building was owned by a man named Stern Harling, he was a former business partner of my father. Stern and I were connected now in ways that words could not express. It was Stern who had initiated the hit on my father; the hit that had ripped a father from his children so soon after an illness had taken their mother as well. I also had heard that it was he who had suggested my recruitment into the Agency only a week after the news of my engagement with Laurel had been announced, once again stripping me of the life that I desired in order to be happy. Harling and I were connected alright, but I felt that I was the only one who could see the link. A link that I now planned to sever permanently.

  I stood with my back facing the water and felt the wind beat across my back, whipping the bottom of my jacket around wildly. I could feel a chill mist from the waves fall upon my face and neck, cooling my skin, but still the hate was warm as it coursed through my body. My programming should have been lighting off neural blockers to kill the spikes in my thought processes that enabled this emotionally responsive behavior. I could barely register that my programming still existed except for a slight nudge or impulse to settle down from time to time. I didn’t know if I had finally learned to ignore it, or if the programming was dying all together. Either way I was satisfied with what I was feeling now. Emotions made me feel alive which was more than Stern Harling would be feeling soon, very soon.

  It was a short walk to the Harling Building, but I took my time and reveled in the decision I had made for myself. I walked with a purpose that I wanted to savor for as long as possible. I stood a mere forty yards from the entrance to the Harling Building. I breathed as slowly as possible as I waited. At any moment he would emerge from his office, leaving work for the day, confident in what he had gained at the expense of others. Part of those achievements was responsible for the countless deaths that helped to fuel the economy, another was his selection by the lottery to be returned to Earth and continue business as usual. The same business that had my father killed.

  The streets were nearly empty while I waited. Only a few vehicles drove past in those final minutes that I waited. Their headlights cut through the darkness in a wash of bright illumination that left me momentarily blinded. After the fourth vehicle passed and my vision cleared I was able to see Stern exit his office building. He was alone, too confident in his status as part of the elite to be escorted by guards. It was perfect; his death would be carried out uninterrupted.

  Harling walked towards me as I stood in the shadows. His footsteps were heavy against the pavement. He was dressed in an expensive suit with an unusual tailored cut. It was a light gray color with light vertical lines evenly spaced around it. His head was balding on top but the hair he had left was dark and created a horseshoe shape around his head. Harling was a large powerfully built man despite his age and the years had not worn him down like they had to most people in his position.

  He stepped into the same shadow I had been lurking in before I spoke and alerted him to my presence. "Harling," I said. "It's been a long time."

  He paused abruptly and began to step back. "Who is it?" He asked with a slight tremble in his voice. Regardless of his power he was not an intimidating man. In fact he struck me as more fearful of others than anything else. He had a reputation of always playing by the rules with the Syndicate. As my father’s business partner he had blown the whistle when my father went astray from their dubious plans. I would like to believe that my father had been doing the right thing, but those thought were not comforting. Harling had a list of people he had killed through assignments with the Agency. His hands may be clean of blood, but his soul was black with the deaths of many, and that count would only rise in the months ahead unless I stopped him.

  "You’re not a very good man are you, Stern?" I asked in a deep voice. I watched him cower back in fear. "You and the other members of the Syndicate are responsible for the deaths of thousands. What makes you think I believe your lottery will save everyone else?" I knew the truth about the lottery, but I wanted to hear him lie to me, I wanted to hear him say something to justify the end that I so wanted him to experience.

  "The lottery is legitimate!" He cried. "It's the only way we can transport everyone. We can't haul everyone off this planet at once, but we can if the transports leave in waves. That's why we are doing the lottery." He was almost frantic as he spoke.

  "Lies!" I growled. "You and the Syndicate will survive and leave the rest of us to die!" I stepped out of the shadow and struck him across the face. He fell back and his eyes widened as he realized who I was. "You will kill others like you killed my father!"

  "No!" He shouted. "It's not like that. I swear! There just isn't any other way." I could see his eyes well up. A coward hidden in wolves clothing.

  "You lie," I said as I struck him again. He fell over into the street and I followed him as he stammered backwards on his hands. "You lie to my face?" I hit him again and again. He cried and squirmed with each blow I delivered to his face. "Tell me the truth!"

  "It's true!" He shouted. “I’m telling you the truth!”

  I punched him in the face again before arming my gauntlet. The blue sight illuminated his bloody face in the darkness. Fear was his only companion now. I aimed the sight at his forehead and held it there. The low dialed laser beam was reflecting off of his head and I could smell his flesh begin the burn.

  "No, please stop, please!" He cried again. I kept the laser in the same spot, it was still burning. "Alright, I admit it! It's all a lie," he swore. It wasn't enough.

  "Tell me more," I said while I kept the laser on his forehead.

  "The Syndicate is using the lottery to preserve transports for the rich. If we can send the transports back after we are all safe then we will, but no one on the board is hopeful of that outcome. With the lottery at least people will feel like they have a chance." The coward ratted out his own kind, pathetic.

  "Why lie about the purpose of the lottery?" I asked.

  "It's to keep people quiet. If they don't know what's coming then we can leave in peace." He had tears running down his face and a quivering lip as he spoke. I could feel the terror course through him. His elevated heart beat was visible to my senses and I could see his chest heave as he gasped for air. He retched onto the street from the fear. I had had enough. I felt a burning desire to end him. I set the gauntlet to kill and took aim.

  "No! I told you the truth! Please!" He shouted.

  "I know," I said. "I knew your scheme all along." I fired the laser into the center of his forehead. The beam went straight through his head and burned the tissue as it hit. There would be no blood splatter from the wound. Before his body collapsed I was able to see a faint light filter through the hole in his head. It had been a clean shot. I was satisfied with the way it felt. Hate was a very useful emotion indeed.

  I bent over and reached into his left breast pocket. This was the reason for the head shot. I didn't want to risk damaging my escape plan. I pulled a plastic lottery ticket from hi
s pocket and examined it for a moment. It was about five inches by three inches and red in color. There was no name on the ticket, just a series of numbers stamped into the hard plastic. No identification would be necessary from what I could tell. As satisfying as killing this man had been, I almost smiled a wicked grin at my new insurance policy. Now Kara and I had something that the Syndicate did not anticipate. We had a way off the planet.