Precipice: The Beginning (29 page)

63

T
he wrist straps crisscrossed about his arm, nearly cutting off Andrews’ circulation. But the uncomfortable pressure building in his arm from the repulse cannons was nothing compared to the anxiousness. Andrews sat behind the technician’s podium in the main station, staring up at the large digital map. He watched as the dot representing the train came closer and closer, putting more distance between Daniels’ unit and the safety of the scientific facility. He suppressed the urge to laugh, loving the excitement and hating the anticipation. This was an ambush, just like all the great movies from his childhood; the bad guys coming toward them on the train while the good guys cut them down. Andrews and his posse of three: Rodriguez, Gomez, and Reece. Adams was there if they needed back up, but these military shits didn’t stand a chance.

Andrews looked down at Needleman’s body, lying at his feet with an arm over his eyes. His throat had been cut, looking up at him like a second mouth. Blood looked darker in this room. Andrews shrugged, figuring it was just the dim lighting. He looked back up at the map, the green dot now flashing red.

“What the hell does that mean?” Andrews hopped off the stool and approached the screen, pointing up at the glaring red while demanding answers from his men.

“The train has stopped.” Gomez scratched his head.

“Are they aware somehow?”

“No, sir.” Reece had run back to the podium, putting up a readout of the trains systems on the screen beside the map. “The train’s log shows it’s deployed its sweeping units to clear debris off the track.”

“Is this normal?”

“Actually it happens all the time. With all the dust storms, it’s pretty common. Should only take a moment before it’s back underway.”

Andrews nodded, but he wasn’t quite sure. He stood beneath the large screen, craning his head up to stare at the dot. The red light blinked back at him, as if Daniels himself were sitting on screen, waving with a smug look on his face. Five minutes had passed, stretching out as if made from industrial strength taffy, sticky and leaving a foul taste in his mouth. He tapped the repulse cannon against his leg, timing his impacts to coincide with the repetitious beeping. If those men had somehow discovered his plan, hoping to disable the train to avoid capture, then they didn’t know a thing about him. He’d put on a space suit and walk out to that damn train before he let those assholes get the best of him. They were only a few miles from the station, and they certainly wouldn’t expect an attack out on the surface. Andrews’ impatience was overgrowing what was left of his judgment.

“There we go. See, only takes a moment.” Reece pointed at the green dot, thankful things were literally back on track. Last thing he wanted to do was deliver bad news to an insane man. Not just insane, but armed.

Andrews watched the green dot drawing toward them, closing the distance. They’d be within the station in a matter of minutes. He couldn’t contain the excitement. He bounced on his feet, his hands twitching. His dick began to tingle, pressing against the inside of his pants. Any other day he would have put some kind of unpleasant thought at the front of his mind, an erection blocker. But not today. This was his world now and he didn’t have to hide anything from anyone. After all is said and done, he may just have to pay Christina a visit. Celebrating his new society with the first impregnation.

“They’re going through the outer tunnel.” Reece couldn’t hide the nervousness from his voice. He didn’t want to kill these men; God knew he didn’t. But he was going to. Either them or him—that’s how he saw it.

Andrews snarled with dark delight as the train rolled into the station. He kept his wrist behind his back, not wanting to spring the trap too soon. The train stopped, the doors parted and nothing happened. No one came out. Andrews leaned to the side to see into the next compartment, but that was also empty.

“What the hell?” Andrews shouted. “Reece, check the system for their personal locators.”

Reece ran with purpose, shaking at Andrews’ tone. He stood behind the podium, searching for all active personal locators within a hundred feet. He saw all of them standing in the station and all of Travis’ unit within the train.

“Well, according to the computer, they’re still inside the train.” Reece took a step back, shaking under the heat of Andrews’ glare.

“They’re hiding in there, somewhere. All of you get your asses in there and tear that train apart!”

The three officers rushed into the train, moving to the front compartment and working their way toward the back. There was nowhere for anyone to hide. The only place would be under the seats, but you’d be completely visible. Gomez nodded with his chin to the back of the train. They inched down the aisle way, holding their repulse cannons aimed toward a door at the very back, a door that was slightly ajar. Gomez stepped forward and threw open the door, revealing eight space suits with smashed helmets, the glass littered about their feet.

“Now,” Travis shouted, hopping down from atop the train, the grey from his spacesuit nearly a perfect match for the train’s metal exterior.

Travis’ six travel companions hopped off the top of the train to stand beside Travis. The train’s doors sealed shut, locking the three security officers inside. They ran to the door and began pounding on the windows. Rodriguez lifted his arm and aimed the repulse cannon at the thick glass, but the train began moving, catching them off guard and knocking them onto their asses. Andrews stood frozen in shock, watching his loyal soldiers being carted down the track and into the tunnel. Andrews turned and bolted, hearing their footsteps right behind his. He stepped out into the hall and slammed his wrist on the panel, sealing the door, locking it. He stood for a moment, looking through a small rectangular window at Travis.

“Open this door, Andrews,” Travis ordered. “You have nowhere else to go.”

“Wrong. It’s you that will have nowhere else to go,” Andrews laughed, his eyes distant and watering with lunacy. “I know you’re going for the supply ship. But it’s too late for that. I’m going to blow it to hell.” Andrews laughed, fogging up the glass with his breath. “Now we’re all stuck here. Stuck in my world.”

Andrews pressed his back to the door and cackled in hysterics, crying uncontrollably. Oddly, he’d never felt so happy in his entire life. But what would make him truly happy was sitting all alone in the hangar, and he wasn’t about to let them have it.

64

C
hristina waited with her hand held over the button for the train’s main doors, her nerves shot as she saw the train slowly pull into the station. She could see the men laying on the top of the train in their spacesuits, keeping still to stay out of view. So far they’d gone unnoticed. She held her breath as one of the guards searched the computer. Andrews yelled something, but the audio wasn’t up. Christina turned up the volume and heard Andrews order his men on the train. This is exactly what they’d been depending on. Just as he’d planned it out, Travis fell from the train and gave the order. Christina slapped her hand down on the button, sealing the door and the officers inside. She may have hit the button a bit too hard, but her nerves were wound so tight. She turned a large dial on the control panel and set the train in motion, nodding with satisfaction as it rolled into the tunnel. The switch under her monitor allowed her to switch views. One flip of the switch took her to a camera mounted at the front of the train. A second switch, the one she’d been hoping for, took her to the train’s interior.

“Come on!” Gomez shouted, pacing back and forth through the aisle.

Christina watched them panic, bouncing off the seats, tapping their legs nervously. Three minutes from the facility was far enough, especially without any suits onboard. Christina cut the power, watching with pleasure as the train slowed to a stop. She switched off the audio and sat back in the chair. All three of them ran to the camera, pleading soundlessly for someone to help them. No, she wasn’t going to help them. These men who were more than willing to have her strapped to a table as their fuck doll got their justice. Now they knew what it feels like to be held against their will, completely helpless.

A quick movement caught her eye. She looked up at the monitor that showed the station’s interior, startled to see Andrews standing on the other side of the door. They’d come too far to let such a monster run loose. Christina stood from the chair and stepped out into the hall, moving as fast as she could, gritting her teeth against the intense pain. She let out a moan, unable to keep such agony inside. Tears rolled freely, but it didn’t stop her. She limped toward the junction where the hallway from the main station ran into the one that led to the comms room. Andrews’ laughter charged down the hall, moving toward her under the heavy thud of his footsteps. He was running hard.

“You’re all going to die!” Andrews laughed hysterically. “Oh yes, how smart you all are.”

Christina measured his distance by the proximity of his rants. He was now only a few feet away, running hard on pure insanity and adrenaline, thus making him that much stronger and faster. But the same went for Christina. Her body trembled from exhaustion and fatigue, but her hatred for this man kept her upright. She took calming breaths, gaining speed as he drew near. His laughter chilled her spine. At exactly the right moment, moving as if they’d practiced the move together for hours, Christina stuck her arm out into the hallway. Andrews’ throat connected with her arm, forcing his feet forward and up as his head slammed down on the cold floor.

Christina fell on her back from the force of impact, momentarily dazed as she struggled to get some air back into her lungs. She gasped, eagerly accepting the stale recycled air. Andrews moaned, lying on his back with his arms feebly flopping on the floor, his eyelids fluttering. Christina was thankful she’d been the first to get up. With her limited strength, he would have surely had the upper advantage. Christina rolled onto her stomach and took hold of Andrews’ hair, making tight fists. Her hands turned red from the pressure. She let out a savage yell and slammed his head back down to the floor. Up and down. Smack. After the third hit, she rolled onto her back and began to cry, closing her eyes against the savagery. This wasn’t her, beating an unconscious man’s head to the ground, but things had changed.

“You fucking murderer!” Christina opened her eyes and pushed herself into a seated position. It took a minute to get her breathing under control, her lungs rattling. She looked down at his unconscious face, his lips moving. “Why?” Christina shook her head, knowing he couldn’t answer her anyway, and if he could it wouldn’t matter.

Christina grunted and cringed as she rose up on her knees, gripping the wall to steady herself as she stood. The hallway spun for a moment, simmering down to normal as the blood in her head settled. She kicked Andrews across the face before moving, not bothering to look back. He deserved to be beaten to death at least three hundred times, but it couldn’t be done by her. Right now she needed to focus on her legs, getting them to work together and keep her up. Just thirty feet down the hallway, that’s all, but her knees were beginning to buckle. Christina pressed her back to the wall and took a break, closing her eyes as she slowed her breathing. The fall had been painful, bruising the skin between her shoulder blades and now a raging headache. Christina looked down the hallway, the door to the main station in sight. She turned and slid toward the door, her shoulder rubbing against the wall. This helped, keeping her on her feet and heading forward.

“Hold on.” Christina gave a wave through the small window, pressing Adams badge to the plate beside the door.

“Are you alright?” Travis asked as he stepped into the hall, reaching out to catch her before she collapsed.

“Fine, just very sore.” Christina coughed, held her breath a moment, and then nodded. “Andrews is back there. He’s unconscious.”

“Damn! Even when you’re sick, you’re still kicking ass,” Jerome laughed.

“Hey, men are easy, its cramps that scare me.” Christina grinned, probably the first genuine show of affection she’d had in weeks.

“I need to get Andrews.” Travis looked back over his shoulder. “Sean, you want to take over here while we get that son of a bitch?”

Sean was more than happy to step forward, ducking low to have Christina’s arm slung over his shoulder. He put his arm about her waist and supported her. He looked up from her exhausted face to Travis, sharing a brief moment before he turned toward the hall. Travis gave him a grateful nod, looking from Sean to Christina before leaving. Sean watched him run off, wondering if he really could ever set aside the hate. Maybe this entire ordeal wasn’t all Daniels’ fault. One thing was clear; he and Christina were together again.

65

A
ndrews felt the discomfort in his pants long before the tightness of the ropes. An uncomfortable wetness in his crotch. He’d pissed himself. Andrews struggled to open his eyes, pushing with all his mental might to get them at half-mast. He saw the wide openness of the hangar. Nothing registered at first. Last thing he remembers was running down the hallway on his way to the ship. Had he already dismantled it? Andrews looked to his left and saw the giant steel bird sitting exactly as it had for the past few weeks. No signs of damage. So then what the hell was he doing just sitting there?

“What the hell?” Andrews mumbled, slurring his words as he tried to lift his arm and couldn’t. “What the hell is going on?” Andrews opened his eyes all the way and examined his body. He was tied to a chair. “Who did this? Huh?” Andrews looked about, left to right, up and down.

“Homer Andrews, you have been convicted of over three hundred counts of murder.” Travis’ voice came out of the overheads.

“You military prick! Who do you think you are?” Andrews thrashed violently in his chair, falling to the side with a heavy thud, his cheek pinned to the cold floor. “I’m the head security officer of this facility, and it is my job to take any steps toward improving safety. I took the steps I felt necessary.”

“Well then, due to your lack of good judgment, I sentence you to death.”

“You have no authority,” Andrews screamed, his voice filling the large hangar. “I’ll get you for this. Mark my words, Daniels.” Andrews looked up as the yellow lights began to flash. “I swear to God that I will kill you!”

Andrews’ voice was drowned by the overhead siren, but Travis knew what he was saying. He didn’t need to read his lips to know a good death threat, even from behind the thick glass of the hangar’s control room. The yellow warning lights cast an eerie glow over them, bright flashes that hurt the eyes. Travis could feel the start of a headache, a slight pinch in the back of his eye, perhaps a slight twinge of guilt gnawing on his nerve endings. This man had killed over three hundred innocent men, yet Travis had trouble carrying out his sentence. He held his hand over the doors release button, wondering if they should lock him up or ask Dr. Hoffman to review him. Christina stepped forward and slapped the button with a satisfied grunt.

“You were taking far too long,” she said, her eyes fixed on Andrews as the doors parted. “He doesn’t deserve a second thought.”

The doors opened and the powerful vacuum of space sucked him out, pulling Andrews and the chair from the floor. There was a moment of silence as they let Andrews’ death sink in. They’d just killed the man who murdered over three hundred innocent lives, then waited to ambush them without any honor, eager to take care of the one last problem before starting his perfect world built off forcibly impregnating Christina. So yes, Andrews most definitely deserved to be sucked out into the canyon, to have his eyes explode from his head. He deserved much worse, but they were on a time crunch.

Travis pressed the button and sealed the room, waiting until the alarm ceased before turning from the window, not wanting to look down on the large empty hangar. He could picture the men he’d worked beside for the last year clawing at the door, stepping over each other like caged animals as the overhead lights went from yellow to red. A shiver went down his spine. He turned from such savage imagery and faced his unit. Seven little Indians left. Five highly trained military officers, one scientist, and the last of the Martian security force, stood together with the common goal to get them the hell off this red rock. To get them back home.

To Be Continued…