Condemned (Death Planet Book 1) (40 page)

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Authors: Edward M. Grant

Tags: #humor, #furry, #horror, #colonization, #mutants, #aliens, #thriller

BOOK: Condemned (Death Planet Book 1)
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“Why do you think I’m hanging up here?”

“Because you’re a fucking idiot?”

“Because there is a trap, and it’s going to kill anyone who gets close to me.”

“And why would you want to warn us?”

“I’m just a nice guy, comrade.”

The King stared at him with those bright red eyes. Steam hissed from the pipes on his back. He must be wondering whether Daniel was mad, or trying to scare him away.

Moses’ chain rattled as the King tossed it to the ground. Then he pushed Moses into the clearing. “You get him.”

Moses picked up the chain, then took a step forward. He sniffed the air, and carefully put one foot ahead of the other, creeping slowly across the clearing between the fallen trees. Please, let it really be a trap. Let Moses feel the horror of being tied up for a while.

But Moses moved inexorably toward him, one step at a time. He climbed over a fallen tree, then dropped down the other side. After he crossed the first few metres, he stopped creeping, as though he’d decided he was safe, after all. And he probably was, for all Daniel knew.

At least he’d bought the others a few more minutes.

The King glanced at his men to his left and right. “Spread out,” he said. “They may be trying to stage an ambush here.”

The men stared into the trees around them, then they crept outward. Their hounds hissed and sniffed, then pushed their way through the undergrowth. Where would Guy have gone, anyway? Last Daniel remembered, it was still dark, and now the suns were casting long shadows from the trees. He must have been out at least a couple of hours.

A drone circled slowly around Daniel. Its fans blew air over his face, as the sensors stared into his eyes. Guy's? No, it was too big, and dark green. Just some random drone passing by, that decided to stop and record him.

It gave him chance to record some famous last words. Something that might inspire the other revolutionaries later.

But he didn’t have any.

In the history books at EdCamp, every Patriotic Hero Of The World State always had some wonderful, rousing words to say as they died. Something they’d just made up on the spot, which would encourage future generations to fight for the World State as they had.

But, when it was your turn, coming up with words like that really wasn’t easy.

“I give my life for the Revolution...” he began. Then Moses raced forward and grabbed him. He pulled Daniel away from the drone, climbed onto the tree trunk that lay on its side nearby, and reached up toward the cable.

Moses glanced back at the King. “This boy is one of them, sir. Look, I got him for you. He’ll tell you where the rest are.”

As he heaved, and the rope twisted, Pig-Face strolled over, and swung his sword. A few hits from the heavy blade slashed through the cable, and Daniel fell. He twisted his body around as he slumped down on top of Pig-Face, but his own face smashed into the dirt, anyway.

Pig-Face groaned, and tried to push him away. Daniel spit dirt, then rolled over, and tried to push himself up. Moses grabbed his arms and pulled, until Daniel was on his feet. Then Pig-Face pressed his sword against Daniel’s back, and pushed him toward the King.

The King stepped out of the treeline, into the clearing. His Guards and some of the hangers-on crowded around him, and stared into the woods. Their hounds sniffed the air.

“Search the boy,” the King said.

Liam grabbed Daniel’s shoulder, and turned him around. He was naked. Where did they think he’d hidden anything?

“I don’t see nothing.”

“No bombs sticking out of his ass?”

“Hey,” Daniel yelled, as Liam pushed forward on his shoulder until he bent over.

“I still don’t see nothing.”

Moses pushed Daniel toward the King. “This is the one, sir. This boy lied about me trying to kill you.”

“And you said you’d find me the others.”

“They can’t be far away.” He slapped the back of Daniel’s head. “Where are the others, boy?”

“I don’t know.”

Pig-Face grabbed his neck, and smashed Daniel’s face into the ground. His nose crunched again, and pain shot through his brain from his forehead back.

“Where are they, you little fucker?”

“I don’t know.”

Pig-Face pressed his sword against Daniel’s neck.

Something cracked, just like a gunshot. But no-one was shooting. Cloth swished against the trees, and cables scraped against wood. The orange and white parachute from the pod fell toward them, twisting and bulging at the sides as it fell.

CHAPTER 82

G
uy had tried to run, but the
Meat Packers
’ hounds soon cornered him, and he’d rather be captured than torn into little pieces and eaten. At least he had a chance to survive right now, as he strolled through the woods with his hands tied behind his back. The cord was tight, but loosening as he wriggled his hands, and twisted one wrist against the other.

“Why do you think I’d know where Moses is?”

“Because he used to suck your dick at the camp.”

“Never did.”

Well, not often, anyway. And only when they didn’t have any chicks in the camp. It’s not like he’d take a guy’s mouth over a girl’s, if he had the choice. He might be desperate at times, but he wasn't queer.

“You sure as fuck hung around him a lot. Must have been getting something for your time.”

Stubby smacked the back of Guy's head. “Just how did he escape, anyway?”

“I don't know. And I don't know where he is. You should let me go, and find him yourself.”

Stubby prodded Guy’s back with the point of his sword, then rubbed his stomach. “You’d better know where that fucker Moses is. Because I’m getting hungry, and it’s either you or him going on the barbie tonight.”

Who was most likely to kill Guy? The King, or the
Meat Packers
? Right now, it was Stubby. Or the fat hound that was salivating every time it looked at him. If Moses was anywhere, he was probably with the King, helping the bastard search.

Best bet was to avoid both, and try to find a way to escape. Not that he had much chance with those fucking hounds. If he broke free and ran, he wouldn’t get far through the woods on his bare feet before they caught him.

Shit. He was so fucked.

“Where’d you get the boat?” he said.

Stubby smacked him with his sword.

“We borrowed it,” Red said.

Snake chuckled. “Not much point taking it back, though, what with them being dead and all.”

Guess that made these assholes pirates, too. What were the odds of them letting him live if they found Moses? Probably about as good as they were for the boat’s previous owners.

Well, then. Only one option made sense. Lead them toward the King, and hope they’d start a fight with the idiots he’d sent out looking for the Brain. So long as they didn’t know Guy broke him out, he had a chance.

If he did, well... would it be much worse for him than whatever Red would do?

All he had to do was head back toward Kingston, and they’d run into the King and his mob sooner or later. They were just working their way toward the sea, spread out as far as they could cover. He couldn’t miss them. Heck, he should be able to hear them from a couple of klicks away.

Then he just needed a distraction that would let him slip into the woods, unnoticed.

He listened. Yeah, there they were. Men yelling, hounds hissing, men...

Screaming.

What the fuck was going on?

CHAPTER 83

T
he Brain dropped the control switch, and the long cable that attached it to the pod, then crawled through the undergrowth. He'd tried to hide the cable in the dirt, but he hadn't had much time. They only had to dig a few millimetres to find it, then they could follow them back to him. It had done its job already, blowing the explosive bolts to release the parachute, and let it fall into the mass of men around the King. Now they were screaming and shouting as they tried to beat off the borers. A hound yelped, and hopped madly from foot to foot with a borer's tail poking out of its face, and the borer's head buried deep in its skull. It smacked into a group of men who had formed a circle to bat away the borers that leaped toward them. The sharp plates on the hound's back slashed across the chest of one of the men, who dodged, and tried to push it away.

That would keep them busy for a little while.

The King turned on the spot, blowing a cloud of smoke and steam across the clearing that would only help to hide the Brain's movements. At least for the few seconds he needed.

He crawled toward a tall bush. Two heavy metal cylinders lay inside it, beneath a pile of rocks, with a short, conical nozzle between them, a small sphere on top, and a cable at the rear. Sunlight reflected from the shiny metal tubes connecting them, and the metal framework that held them together.

His trap had taken hours to prepare. First, smearing his scent on the trees to lead the hounds in circles as they tried to follow him. The King and his idiot army were too stupid to realize they were retracing their steps in the dark. Then dismantling the pod enough to rip out all the components he needed, and reassembling them.

The boy had made a good decoy, to get them into the right spot. Very good, in fact, with that little game he’d played with the King, not even realizing the real part he was playing in the plan. Now the Brain was ready to make use of it.

The King’s heavy metal feet stomped backwards across the clearing. The Brain grabbed the metal frame, and adjusted the angle until the nozzle pointed toward the King. The men who weren’t trapped by the borers had courageously backed away and crowded around him, rather than stay and fight.

Good.

The Brain crawled through the undergrowth to a bulky battery hidden behind a tree. Cables were already wired to the negative terminals, and more ran across the ground nearby.

He grabbed one, and touched it to the positive terminal. A click came from behind him as a valve opened, and the helium the sphere contained pressured the big, cylindrical tanks. He glanced at the bush, then toward the King. His men were crowded more closely around him. Even better.

He grabbed another cable, and touched it to the battery. The cylinders clunked as the fuel valves opened, and the rocks piled around it rattled as the metal frame jerked against them. Hot air blasted the Brain’s face, and he ducked behind the tree. The flame from the nozzle ignited the cloud of hydrazine he had spread across the clearing from the fuel tanks of another of the pod’s thrusters. He was lucky the pod had malfunctioned, and not vented them before impact.

Men’s hair and clothes caught light in the brief flash fire. Others burned in the flame from the thruster, which stretched from the nozzle beside him to half-way across the clearing. Their mouths opened to scream, but he couldn't hear them over the roar of the flame. Others ducked behind tree trunks.

The smell of roasting meat filled the clearing as they rolled on the ground, trying to extinguish the flames. Others just rolled on the ground in pain, as the King knocked them over and stomped on them as he tried to escape the fire. The long, bright flame flickered over his exoskeleton, but just left dark burn marks on the paint.

The Brain grabbed two more cables, and attached them to the battery. The thruster he'd hidden on the far side of the clearing bucked as it ignited, and blew another long trail of flame into the mob. The men trying to escape that way screamed as the flames blasted into them.

The first thruster rattled and shook as it twisted under the force of the flames, until it pointed almost toward the group fighting the borers. The Brain reached for the cables to shut it down, but the flame sputtered and went out, the fuel exhausted.

He peered around the tree at the carnage beyond. Hmm, that was suboptimal. He'd expected to kill at least 80% of the men with the borers and flamethrowers. He'd only managed about 70% dead and wounded, and more were now staring into the clearing from the treeline, attracted back from their searches by the noise, but too scared to join the fun. With Simon's help, he would have done better.

But Simon was gone, and that bastard killed him.

The King’s gaze met his. The Brain smiled, and twisted the last of the cables onto the battery terminal. Then backed away through the bushes. The King’s arm whirred as he raised his hand and pointed to the Brain.

“Get him,” the King yelled.

CHAPTER 84

D
aniel dug his fingers into the dirt as he clung tightly to the ground, and wished he could bury himself. He was lucky that Moses had pushed him down before the air caught fire, and it had only singed his hair. Moses had yelled, and dove to the ground beside him, then the world went crazy with flames blasting through the air, and men screaming around him.

His stomach rumbled at the stench of cooked meat. He shouldn’t even be thinking of food with men screaming and dying all around him, but he’d eaten so little since he arrived that he just couldn’t help it.

A gun boomed, and splinters exploded from a tree trunk near the bush the flames had come from.

“Don't shoot the Brain,” the King yelled.

“Can I stab the fucker?” Pig-Face said.

“Just get him alive.”

The flames behind Daniel sputtered and went out. For now. He looked up. Burned bodies smoked on the ground across the clearing, and melted drones tried to spin up their fans to fly, but the plastic was just a warped mess. Some of the King’s army had survived the attack with only singed skin and surface burns, but most of those remaining were hiding behind the fallen trees, too scared to stand in case the flames came back.

For that matter, so was Daniel.

A body smoldered on the ground barely a metre away. Smoke rose from the red, steaming flesh of what used to be its face. The burned remains of the lips still moved, and the lidless eyes twitched. A sword lay on the ground beside it, the metal blackened by the flames.

Daniel pulled the dying man’s fingers away from the sword hilt. He shivered as the flesh came away in his grip, then tossed it aside. He grabbed the blood-smeared sword hilt, and twisted the blade in his hand. The metal was heavy—heavier than any sword he’d used in VR games—and the rough leather wrapped around the hilt rubbed against his skin. He had no idea how to fight with one for real, but it was sharp, and stabbing it into some vital part of the King’s body had to work.

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