Escape from Endeavor

by Daniel A. Jones

  ***

  The cargo bay door at the top of the ramp started to lift, warning the group that someone was coming. Mystique pulled Shektee close and half carried her to the hull of the ship, hoping it would give them a little cover.

  Shektee thought about how easy it would be for her to drain every bit of Mystique’s life energy, she was so close. She didn’t because the ancient would kill her for it. She fought to maintain control of her hunger as more of her strength was used to regenerate her wound.

  Mystique realized she was hugging a demon and resigned herself to the fact that she had to trust Shektee. Once at the ship she released Shektee so she could draw her knives and get ready to throw the one in her right hand. She knew it wouldn’t hurt their attacker but hoped it might distract him.

  Daemon stood his ground, waiting to face whatever came out the door.

  Jim stood in the middle of the doorway as the door slowly rumbled up. Once the door was fully open he looked at Daemon and smiled. The big man thought he was tough; well, he was about to show him he was just stupid.

  Daemon lifted his ax and wrung his hands on the handle, anticipating the swing that would cut Jim in half.

  As Jim walked down the ramp the HUD display in his helmet alerted him to where the girl and the demon were hiding. He swung the barrel of his gun over and fired without turning his head—the targeting system in his helmet made sure he wouldn’t miss.

  Mystique saw him swing his rifle in their direction and knew they were in trouble. She instinctively threw her knife at the barrel of his rifle and dove away from the ship.

  Shektee didn’t understand what was going on but if Mystique was diving for cover she assumed she should be, too. Shektee wasn’t going far, though, not with her bad leg. She could only hope it was going to be far enough.

  Jim had set the plasma gun on wide-effect blast, knowing his opponents didn’t have any armor. It would be easier to catch them in the blast of an explosive bolt rather than hit them with a focused bolt, and just as effective. What Jim forgot was that the explosive bolt would detonate on impact with anything more solid than a gas. Jim triggered his rifle as it came on target, not even caring about the knife the girl had thrown. The ball of plasma accelerated down and out of the barrel of his rifle only to impact with a small piece of steel flying toward it.

  The bolt of plasma detonated ten feet from the end of the barrel. It expanded out in micro seconds to engulf Jim, throwing him off the ramp like a discarded rag doll.

  Mystique was in midair when the shock wave hit her, lifting her higher and sending her farther then she expected. The searing heat wave that followed burned her exposed skin and hair, sending her deep into shock and unconsciousness.

  Shektee was thrown into the side of the ship with enough force to shatter human bones, but she only suffered a broken nose and jaw as her face hit the hull of the ship. The intense heat washed over her body, burning away the splinters she’d gotten earlier but having no effect on her skin. Shektee remained conscious long enough to see Daemon start his charge.

  Daemon watched as Jim swung the barrel of the gun away from him and knew it was his chance to close the distance. He had just kicked off his first step when the explosion happened. He felt the hot air wash over him and the shockwave slam into him but he was far enough away that neither had much effect. He never took his eyes off his target—he didn’t have to, to know what happened to his companions. He no longer felt the aggression Shektee had been repressing, which meant she was either dead or unconscious and any explosion that could do that to her would certainly have killed Mystique.

  He let go of his rage, allowing it to take full control: This person deserved what the beast was about to do to him. Jim had just gotten back to his feet when Daemon reached him. Daemon took an underhand swing at Jim with the ax.

  The enhanced strength and reflexes granted him by his powered armor enabled Jim to block the swing with the barrel of his rifle. Warning lights in Jimmy’s helmet told him the ax had damaged the rifle and the armor was shutting down power to it. Jim barely had time to register the information as Daemon swung again and again, driving Jim back with the power and fury of each swing. Jim was holding the rifle like a staff. It took the strength of both arms to stop the momentum of the ax as it cut deep gouges into the Chromalloy barrel.

  Jimmy knew he had to shift the momentum of the fight or he was going to lose. No metal known to man could do what that ax was doing and he’d no desire to find out how well his armor would hold up to one of those hits. Jimmy took a risk that the rhythm of the swings wouldn’t change and kicked out as Daemon pulled the ax back for another swing. The kick was short and missed but it did force Daemon to break his rhythm and step back. Jim leapt at his chance, dropping his rifle and grabbing hold of the ax handle. The servos in his armor whined as Jim put a death grip on the ax.

  Daemon tried to jerk it free of his grasp but only succeeded in forcing Jim to take a few steps forward to keep his balance. The two struggled for control of the ax, pushing and pulling each other like clashing behemoths. Jim could not understand how anyone could match strength with powered battle armor and not be crushed instantly.

  The beast that was now controlling Daemon had fought countless opponents. The experience it had gained had taught it that maintaining your balance was a key factor in winning: If you were thrown off balance for even a few seconds your opponent could easily gain the upper hand. Daemon braced himself, forcing Jim to stand still as the two entered into a duel of sheer strength. Each man pulled with everything he had, trying to break the other’s grasp. Jim was so focused that he didn’t notice the slight shift in Daemon’s footing—he was staring at Daemon, knowing he was winning and that it was only a matter of time.

  The Beast looked in Jim’s eyes and a smile crept onto Daemon’s face. He said, “Ngen.”

  The battle ax vanished, sending Jimmy stumbling backward. He’d been pulling with such determination that he was totally off balance without the ax to hold on to.

  Daemon shifted only slightly, having known what was going to happen and when. He had one more surprise for Jim. “Ur-Um Gil-Im.”

  The ax reappeared in his grasp and this time Jim didn’t have anything to fend off Daemon’s attack with. He had fallen on his butt and was trying to understand what had happened when Daemon stepped up in front of him. Jim raised his arms in a feeble attempt to block the ax as it came crashing down.

  Daemon vented a great deal of anger on Jimmy. When he finally stopped the ground was covered in blood and gore. Jim’s armor hadn’t held up to the force of Daemon’s blows; bits and pieces of it were scattered over a large area. Daemon put the ax away and stood staring at what he’d done. The man had attacked Angelica, he’d killed Mystique, he deserved to die but Daemon couldn’t stop thinking that he was no better than a Rift demon.

  A noise behind him broke his train of thought and made him turn to see what had made it. Shektee was trying to move but she was still crippled. Daemon walked to her to check on her, not sure what he was going to do about her: She hadn’t done anything to him or Mystique, but she was a killer. Daemon was still trying to decide when he reached her. As he looked down at her, he decided as long as she didn’t hurt him or anyone he cared about he had no right to judge her. He bent down and helped her move into a more comfortable position and told her to be still and heal; he would be right back.

  Shektee could feel the compassion coming from him. She couldn’t understand why anyone would voluntarily give their life’s energy to another. The little he was radiating toward her was replenishing her and making her feel stronger.

  Daemon stood up, determined to find Angelica and make sure she was safe when Shektee grabbed his leg. He looked down to see what she wanted and she pointed to where Mystique was lying. Daemon wasn’t sure what she wanted but she kept pointing toward Mystique so he finally turned and walked to Mystique’s corpse. Daemon had really liked Mystique and it hurt that she’d died. He didn’t want to look at her
burnt and broken body but Shektee was determined to get him to go to her.

  The blast had lifted her and thrown her an extra fifteen feet and she’d slid to a stop when she’d landed. Her skin was red and blistered, and her hair was mostly burned off with only small patches still clinging to her scalp. Daemon knelt down to roll her on her back, not sure he wanted to touch her. Daemon wished he’d left her behind. She was smart; she would have made it. He could have gone back for her once Angelica was safe.

  Daemon froze as a small leaf fluttered away from Mystique’s mouth. Was she breathing? He put his cheek to her face, trying to feel her breath. After the longest minute of his life, Daemon decided he wasn’t imagining it, she was breathing. She was still alive.

  29

  He had to get her to Angelica fast. Daemon carefully picked her up and ran for the ramp.

  The cargo hatch was still open and Daemon could tell Angelica was near the front of the ship. The cargo bay had dozens of shipping containers of various sizes. He moved to the forward bulkhead and looked for a hatch that would allow him to continue forward. It took him precious minutes to find his way around the containers to a hatch leading to a corridor. Daemon glimpsed a small map mounted in a frame near the door. It showed a basic floor plan of the ship. He stopped and looked at it for a few seconds, figuring out where he was, in relation to where Angelica was.

  It looked like this level was mostly used for storage so Daemon located the nearest way up to the next level, which was a set of stairs with a hatch at the top. Daemon took the stairs three at a time, stopping at the top to look around. He noted one aggressive person to the aft of the ship but ignored him for now. Daemon found another map mounted to the wall near the hatch.

  According to the map the corridor he was in went the length of the ship from the Bridge to Engineering. The crew cabins were all connected to this corridor, as well as Medical, the mess room, and the crew lounge. Daemon started jogging toward the front, careful not to cause Mystique any more injuries. He could tell Angelica was close. He assumed Jim had taken over the captain’s cabin since it was the largest and most luxurious. Angelica had to be there.

  The door to the captain’s cabin slid open when Daemon touched the pad next to the door. The cabin had two rooms. The one just inside the door had a large desk and chair on one side and a small table with two more chairs in the middle. The walls were lined with a few paintings and book shelves. An opening to the left led to the bedroom. It was about the same size as his bedroom, roughly ten feet square with a bed taking up most of one side. A dresser and a cabinet were near the foot of the bed. There was also a small door leading to what Daemon assumed was a closet.

  Daemon yelled, “Angelica!” as he gently lay Mystique on the bed.

  “I’m in here. The door is locked. I can’t get out,” Angelica called from behind the small door.

  Daemon checked the door and found another control panel. He pressed on it and the door slid open.

  Angelica gasped at the sight of her brother covered in blood. “Is any of that yours?” she asked as she stepped out into the cabin and grabbed a towel to cover herself with.

  Daemon reached out to hug his sister, too relieved to be embarrassed by seeing her naked.

  She put her hand on his chest to stop him. “Not until after you’ve cleaned up.” Angelica was determined not to fall into her brother’s arms and start crying like a little girl, even though that was exactly what she wanted to do.

  Daemon stepped aside so Angelica could see Mystique lying on the bed. “She’s still alive but she’s hurt really bad. Can you help her? She probably saved my life getting herself blown up.”

  Angelica crossed the room and sat down next to Mystique. She reached out with her senses and found that Mystique was alive, but she was in shock. Angelica focused and poured every ounce of energy she had into healing Mystique. She wasn’t sure it was going to be enough; she’d never healed anyone this badly injured before.

  Daemon stepped up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. He wasn’t very good at it, but he tried to give Angelica some of his energy.

  Angelica focused on Mystique’s lungs first. They were badly burned from Mystique inhaling the scorching hot air. Mystique was only getting a small amount of oxygen into her blood so if Angelica could heal her lungs that would improve her overall chances of recovery. She sat unmoving for close to fifteen minutes before she finally collapsed from the exertion. Daemon’s added energy had helped but Angelica was going to need food and something to drink before she could continue.

  Daemon lifted Angelica’s legs up so she was lying in the bed and covered them both with a few towels. He wasn’t sure what to do next. He didn’t want to leave them, but it occurred to him that it wasn’t safe to let Shektee wander around the ship. There might be others on board and if she met them it could get bad quickly. Daemon finally decided to risk the quick run back to get Shektee. He knew the way now and it would only take a couple minutes.

  Daemon left the captain’s cabin and ran down the corridor to the hatch. He had to duck as he ran down the stairs to keep from smacking his head. The way through the containers was a lot simpler now that he knew where he was going. He found Shektee in her panther form, hobbling up the ramp. When she saw him, she stopped and shifted forms back to her natural demonic form which Arnold had found her in: almost human except for the small horns, clawed feet, a three-foot-long, whip-like tail that ended in a bone spike, and pools of inky blackness for eyes. Her face was healed except for some bruising, which would fade quickly now that the major damage was healed. She was still missing a chunk from her leg so she leaned against the bulkhead near the cargo hatch.

  “Thank you for letting me know that Mystique wasn’t dead,” Daemon told her as he walked closer. “I’m going to take you up to the cabin my sister is in. I’m not sure where the rest of the crew members are and I don’t want you eating them. Plus, my sister’s a healer, so she might be able to help with your leg.”

  “I will do whatever you want; the ancient has made you my master. I will need sustenance once I have regenerated my leg. I can maintain control for now but if I become too hungry I won’t be able to stop myself from feeding,” Shektee confessed. She didn’t know how Daemon would react, but if she did lose control now, he’d understand why she had. Sympathy was an emotion she didn’t fully understand and she doubted she would ever be able to feel it for another, but Daemon had felt it for her before and hopefully he would again. She also hoped he’d just punish her instead of killing her if she fed.

  “What do you eat, anyway?” Daemon was pretty sure he didn’t want to know but if she needed to feed soon he’d better know what it was.

  “I drain the life energy from my prey. Emotional energy can give me some sustenance but mostly it only adds flavor like spices add to your meals. I have found that I do not have to kill my prey but it requires me to stop in the middle of feeding, which can be very difficult when I am hungry,” Shektee said, only changing a few facts a little. She was a little surprised that Daemon didn’t know more about demons.

  “Okay, change into something more human-looking in case we run into any of the crew,” Daemon instructed her as he scooped her up and carried her to the stairs.

  Shektee was too shocked and amazed to say anything. The amazement that her master would carry her warred with the shock of a human treating her like a helpless invalid. He wasn’t as gentle with her as he’d been with Mystique. He was in a hurry and wanted to get back to Angelica and Mystique.

  It only took a couple minutes for Daemon to carry Shektee to the captain’s cabin. The girls were still sleeping on the bed when he checked the bedroom. He motioned for Shektee to be quiet as he set her in the chair at the desk. He found her some clothing in the captain’s closet and helped her put them on. It was all far too large for her, but at least she wasn’t naked anymore—not that Daemon minded her being naked, but it was very distracting.

  He had also found some clothes that he tho
ught might fit him. He went into the bathroom to clean up. It took him a few minutes to figure out how to work the sink and shower. Once he had, he stripped and took a shower. He had read about showers but had never had one; he decided it was a lot better than swimming in the river.

  Angelica stirred on the bed, causing Shektee to stop searching the desk and wheel the chair over to the entrance to the bedroom to see who it was. Shektee could sense that Angelica had a powerful magical nature and was curious what spells or powers she knew. Daemon was too busy banging around in the bathroom to notice Angelica was waking up. Shektee’s mind drifted to how easily she could feast on the women. Mystique would hardly be worth the effort she was so close to death already but the mage she could feast on her for hours before her gorging killed the woman.

  “DAEMON!” Angelica shouted as the waves of vile desire brought her out of her sleep.

  Daemon bounded out of the bathroom naked, holding his ax in one hand, looking for what had scared Angelica. It took him a moment to realize it had been Shektee. She was sitting nervously, her hands clenched in her lap, her face turned down so Daemon could not see the look on it. Angelica was sitting in the bed, her back pressed up against the wall, staring at Shektee.

  “I didn’t do anything I was just sitting here, thinking.”

  “Daemon, kill it. It’s a Rift monster!” Angelica told him, pointing at Shektee.

  “Wait, I didn’t do anything,” Shektee pleaded with Daemon, worried he would do as his sister told him.

  “Angie, it’s okay. Shektee won’t hurt you. She helped me get to the ship and she saved Mystique’s life,” Daemon told her as he realized he was standing in front of his sister butt naked, holding a battle ax. He grabbed the cloths he’d found and stepped back into the bathroom. He put away the ax and pulled the captain’s pants on. They were short by a few inches and about six inches to big at the waist but they would cover his butt. He grabbed his belt from his old pants and was threading it through the loops as he stepped back into the cabin.

  Angelica hadn’t moved; she was still sitting on the bed, staring at Shektee. Shektee had turned so she was watching the bathroom door, waiting for Daemon to return.

  “Angie, things got a lot more complicated after you were kidnapped. Jim hurt me really bad and while I was regenerating Shektee showed up with a gift from her master. When I woke up, she was talking to Mystique so I didn’t attack. She told me she was sent to help and she has. I know where she’s from and that she will attack us if she is given permission, but we may need her help.” Daemon was not sure how his sister was going to react. He didn’t like having a Rift monster around but she’d proven helpful.

  “How do you know our language?” Angelica asked, stalling while she thought about what Daemon had told her.

  “While I am in contact with someone I can read their minds and learn what they know,” Shektee answered, trying to explain truthfully without being too detailed.

  “Who is your master and why would he give a gift to my brother?”

  “He is an ancient being of great power and his reasons for doing anything are his to explain if he chooses. I do not question his will; I simply do as I am told.”

  “So if he told you to kill us, you would?”

  “Yes. I would have no choice.” Shektee didn’t like where this was going.

  “Daemon, how can you trust her? She just said she would try to kill us if she got the chance.”

  “That is not what I said,” Shektee protested.

  “I didn’t say I trusted her but I don’t have a reason to kill her, either. You told me I shouldn’t kill anyone unless I had a very good reason. She hasn’t given me one. She’s already admitted she would lose if we ever fought, so why would she start something?”

  “Fine, but when she does kill someone it’ll be your fault as much as hers. And don’t ever leave me alone with her.” Angelica may have conceded to Daemon’s wish not to kill Shektee, but she wasn’t happy about it. “Why don’t you take her and go get me something to eat. I only sensed three others on board: Sara, and two strangers.” Angelica wanted time alone to think and sending him looking for food was the best idea she could come up with.

  Daemon motioned for Shektee to leave so she got up and limped out into the corridor. Daemon followed her, his head down. He had hoped Angelica wouldn’t realize Shektee was a demon or at least it would take her longer. He had to admit he should have known better.

  Shektee was glad to be away from Angelica, she had too much influence over Daemon and she wanted Shektee dead.

  Daemon reached out to help Shektee walk but she ducked away. She turned and leaned against the wall, looking at Daemon. Daemon looked back at her. “Don’t worry, I meant what I said. As long as you don’t give me a reason to, I won’t kill you. I might try to send you away if things get to be too difficult.”

  Shektee would have been amused at any other human for thinking they could kill her so easily but it was a relief to hear it coming from Daemon. She reached out and took his arm for support as they walked down the corridor.

  Daemon remembered that the map showed that the galley was close. He passed through the dining area straight into the kitchen, barely noticing the patches to the ceiling of the room or the new weld down the center of the table. He wasn’t much of a cook, but he figured he could put something together for Angelica.

  Shektee wasn’t going to be any help; she’d never had any interest in learning the domestic part of her prey’s life so she hopped up on a counter and watched.

  Daemon searched through all the cabinets and drawers; nothing he found resembled food. He found some frozen food in vacuum-sealed bags in a cold locker. He threw a couple of packets of what he thought was meat in a bowl and started running hot water on them to thaw them out while he tried to figure out how to work the stove. It didn’t take long for him to get the stove working and fill a skillet with meat chunks from the bag. He showed Shektee how to cook the meat. She stayed with it while he looked for something other than water to drink. He found a pitcher of orange liquid in the dining area and after tasting it, decided to take it.

  Daemon decided he would test Shektee a little to see what she did. “Could you cook another packet of meat while I take this to Angie?”

  “As you wish. I am here to serve you,” Shektee replied, bowing her head slightly.

  He was getting tired of everyone looking to him for directions.