Star Runners 2: Revelation Protocol (15 page)

Austin crouched behind a fallen tree on one side of the path just before reaching the lake, listening to the sounds of the battle echo through the forest. The trained mercenaries must have tracked them to the peak, and Sharkey must have surprised them when he attacked. Austin wanted to sprint through the trees and help Sharkey battle the mercenaries, but he had orders to wait by the lake for his extraction. He had known Sharkey since he first arrived at the school. If he knew nothing else, he knew the man would die for his duty. And right now, Sharkey’s sense of duty protected them.

He glanced back at Mom and Kadyn bent down on the embankment. Mom had her arm placed around Kadyn’s neck. The two women, battered and bruised, looked ready to collapse into the soft clay of the lakeshore.

The laser fire slowed, then stopped in the distance. Three rounds, probably a pistol, fired. The distinct sound of a standard gunshot sounded harsh following the laser bolts and it echoed through the treetops.

Silence.

Austin gripped his rifle tighter. They were coming.

He glanced back to Mom and nodded. Mom covered Kadyn and they pressed down behind a log in the afternoon light.

Austin turned back and faced the forest. Should he move? Perhaps take the fight away from Mom and Kadyn?

He studied the two-path road. No, he thought, the mercenaries would have to come to him. This was the place.

He took the safety off the rifle. Uneasiness filled his body, and he wondered if he would be able to remain still. He wanted to run away with Mom and Kadyn, but at the same time, he wanted the mercenaries to show their faces. He wanted the fight to begin.
Come on
, he thought,
let’s get this over with
.

As the minutes dragged, he wondered if he had done the right thing in leaving Tizona that night with Bear and Skylar. After all, staying meant he would have gone home for Christmas and he wouldn’t be here in the woods at this moment, fighting for his life against intergalactic mercenaries who wanted him dead.

Shaking away the thought, Austin continued staring into the woods. He knew a shroud could be spotted if you looked close enough.

The sun cast long shadows over the path. No clouds threatened to block the blue sky. He dreamed of flying in the blue of Earth’s atmosphere, wondering what it would be like to soar over his own home. A strange thought, he snorted, since he had been flying Tridents for the past year. But space, the darkness of the void, was different.

Looking back at the forest, he wished a Trident was up there now. A little air support would be helpful.

A tree branch moved. Something metallic glimmered in the afternoon light. A silhouette of a man moved quietly near a patch of trees on the far side of the road. Austin held his breath, waiting to see if more men revealed themselves.

Two more figures moved in behind the first, their shapes distorting the trees behind them as the shroud technology hid them from view. Another figure stepped down his side of the road, followed by a second man.

Five total attackers moved on his position, closing in at twenty yards. He shifted his aim, bringing the rifle to bear down on the closest mercenary.

Shoot and move. Shoot and move.

His finger rested on the trigger of the laser rifle. The closest mercenary moved without making a sound, pushing a leaf out of the way.

Austin fired.

The laser blast ripped through the quiet forest. Several more blasts followed. The repeater spit death through the woods, the first three bolts striking the lead figure on Austin’s side of the road. Sparks rained down from the trees.

“Down!” a voice yelled.

Austin kept his finger pressed on the trigger. Bolts seared through flesh and wood, sending flashes and splinters spinning. Two figures dropped before the mercenaries returned fire.

Laser fire came towards him destroying the log he used for cover. A fire raged in its place. Austin rolled away from the fire closer to the lake and landed on his back into the deep grass for protection. He held his rifle close. He knew he had cleared his side of the road, leaving three other Phantoms on the far side.

He hoped the three were it and that there would be no more mercenaries appearing in the woods to kill them.

Austin remained on his back for a pair of heartbeats, listening to his enemy firing into deadwood. He breathed for the first time since the engagement. Sweat formed on his forehead. A droplet slid down the back of his head. He rolled onto his stomach without making a sound, and looked into the woods toward the other side of the road.

Nothing.

He heard a whimper, a sniffle.

What was that?

It came from the lake. A consoling voice, softer.

Kadyn.

His friend cried and Mom was trying to get her to stop.

He had to move in and keep them quiet.

Waiting for a moment longer, Austin brought himself to one knee and held the rifle in front of him. A bolt sizzled past his head, crashing into the tree behind him. Without thinking, Austin sprinted through the trees, knocking back clinging branches and growth. He ran back toward the lake to Mom and Kadyn. A thorn ripped the flesh on his cheek as he ran, the skin splitting and sending a flash of pain through his body. Laser bolts zipped around him like demonic fairies. One clipped his jacket, burning the fabric. He dove into a bed of pine straw and spun around towards the shooters.

He wiped the blood from his face and searched the woods. He fired in the general direction of the attackers, the bolts flashing as they burned through the trees. Sparks flew from several trees, and the forest caught fire in the fading light of day. The fingers of the flames twisted, reaching higher into the treetops. Plants and pine needles shriveled, caught fire and dropped to the forest floor in burning ash. The ash fell like snow. Heat seared through the trees in waves, the wind tussling the embers into a hellish tornado.

Austin fired twice, thinking he had a shot. Heat waves caused the trees and flames to shimmer. More bolts crashed into a burning tree in front of him, sending more sparks into the fray. He ducked down in time, a bolt soaring over his head. He had to keep the attackers away from the lake.

A pistol fired. Austin froze.

Mom.

He ran toward their position, screaming until his throat burned. He fired blindly into the trees, hoping to draw attention to him and away from Mom.

It worked.

His upper chest flashed with pain, the bolt burning into his collarbone. He spun around like a top, falling into bed of blackened pine straw. The energy weapon worked its way into his skin, sizzling as it ate away at his flesh. He buried his face into the hot ground and howled. Tears mixed with sweat and dirt covered his face.

He sat up. Resolved in a way he hadn’t felt since Flin Six, he stood in the center of the fire, flames swirling around him. This would not be the end.

He tore off his Tizona jacket, felt the heat from the forest on his bare chest. Ignoring his better judgment, he glanced down at his wound. It was hard to see, but charred skin ran down his chest as the heat continued to damage the surrounding tissue. He felt his collarbone and the skin was gone apparently exposing the bone.

“Mom! Kadyn!” he yelled. “I’m coming!”

He ran through flames, jumping over a burning log. To his right, a mercenary materialized in the fire, his shroud running out of power. The merc’s eyes widened. Austin fired the rifle from his hip, yelling as he unleashed the full repeating fire into the man’s chest. The mercenary toppled into the inferno.

A bolt seared through the air, striking Austin’s calf. He spun around and hit the ground, firing in the direction of the shot. He yelled through clenched teeth. Two attackers fired at him from behind two trees, the bolts kicking up pebbles and pine straw. Austin fired as he crawled, hoping to make it behind a tree.

Another shot exploded on his thigh. He rolled over on his back. His skin felt like it caught fire, the pain running through his body like battery acid. He fired again in their direction, but didn’t look to see the result.

Footsteps pounded the dirt from behind him.

The attacker knelt beside him. “Can you walk?”

Austin blinked the salt and sweat from his eyes, unsure if what he heard was a dream. “Mom?”

She fired the pistol twice into the woods and stared back at him. Her eyes flickered to his wounds. “We need to move.” 

A bolt flashed by her head. Austin rolled over on his side, firing the remaining charge toward the mercenaries. Mom pulled his arm over her shoulder, firing the pistol till it clicked.

She tossed the pistol into the woods. “Come on! We’ll head for the lake!”

Mom yelped, sparks flying from her back and they both toppled to the forest floor.

“Mom! No!” Austin ignored his own pain and rolled her onto her back.

She smiled at him, gripping his hand. Her eyes rolled back and closed.

“Mom!” he yelled, his head shaking.

He stood between the laser fire and faced his attackers with an empty rifle. He glanced down at his mother, her sweet face turning to one side. Not like this, he thought. Oh, Mom, I’m so sorry.

With one smooth movement, Austin slipped the hunting knife from his belt. One way or the other, he would finish this day. Taking a deep breath, he charged, screaming with everything his voice had left. The mercenaries fired, laser bolts filling the air.

And then the world went straight to hell.

An explosion sent him flying into the woods, his back crashing into a tree. The concussions of heavy laser fire rippled through the forest, sending debris crashing down onto him. He felt branches, pine straw and dirt falling onto him. He reached for his knife, but felt nothing.

Dazed, he stood in the flames, wobbling as if the ground shook beneath him. He shuffled through the burning debris, grabbing a blackened branch and holding it like a baseball bat.

“Lieutenant!” a voice called from behind him.

Austin didn’t turn, assuming he was hearing things. He walked toward the last position of the mercenaries.

“Austin!”

He blinked. His body shook. His vision blurring. A silhouette of a man signaled toward him, his hand outstretched. Darkness surrounded him and he crashed to the ground.   

“We have a problem.”

Cyclops, his one eye glaring, strolled in front of the thirty or so prisoners who knelt in three lines of ten men. He clasped his hands tight behind his back. His muscular chest swelled as he spoke. Josh swallowed. He had heard this tone before. Back on the asteroid, Cyclops would start a speech like this and end it with a death.

“Someone has opened a most important box,” Cyclops said, nodding at two of his men. “This is troubling.”

The two guards dressed in dirty black rags moved forward in the morning light. They each held a long wooden stake about as tall as a man. Marching in front of the prisoners, they split and went to opposite sides. When they reached the edge of the group of prisoners, the two men in unison slammed the stakes into the ground. They bowed and backed away.

“I am going to give the violator a chance for redemption,” Cyclops said. “Come forward now, and there will be less punishment. Come forward, and we won’t have to tell Rodon about this when he returns.”

Josh knew Waylon knelt on the opposite side of the group. He didn’t risk a glance to his comrade. Delmar remained at Josh’s side, his shoulders tense and his back rigid.

“No one?” Cyclops shook his head, making a clicking sound with his tongue. “This is not good.”

A guard forced Delmar to his feet and brought him forward. A green laser like nothing Josh had ever seen emitted from the top of the two stakes. Using thick gloves, the guards took the pulsating laser, which when handled looked like a thick rope or chain, and wrapped it around each of Delmar’s wrists. The lasers burned into his flesh, filling the air with the smell of burning skin. Josh winced. He noticed, thankfully, the laser didn’t burn completely through. It must have been made to inflict pain, but not to sever.

“This man was on duty last night,” Cyclops said. “His job was to empty the cargo ship. One of the boxes had been forced open. This man is a traitor and deserves a traitor’s punishment. Since no one has come forward to share in the punishment, this old man will die.”

Delmar’s face formed into a stone. He looked at Josh, allowed a slight smile. Josh looked to Waylon, but the man stared forward.

The lasers yanked Delmar’s arms away from his body, lifting him into the air. His feet pulled off the ground until his toes just touched the dirt. A breeze moved across the plains sending the stench away for a moment.

Cyclops pulled a thick bullwhip from a satchel and formed it in his hands. He stood behind Delmar and lifted the bullwhip high about his head.

“Stop!” Josh yelled.

He stood in the middle of the second row. The other prisoners stared up at him with wide eyes. Some gasped, others gazed at him in silence.

Cyclops grinned, revealing his battered and blackened teeth. “Good, a brave soul. I knew this man did not work alone. After all we have done for you, taking you to this beautiful planet and allowing you the chance to work outside. And you repay us with this vile treachery.”

The two guards stepped forward, grabbed Josh and marched him to the front. When they forced him to the ground, Josh glanced at Delmar who shook his head.

“This man will still die,” Cyclops announced. “He is old and not valuable to our efforts.”

Josh looked at Delmar and the prisoners. “You said I would share his punishment and he wouldn’t have to die.”

“I said no such thing. I said he would be punished alone. Now, you have decided to take your punishment and join him. You might wish you were dead, but I have no plans to kill you.” He gestured to the fields. “For now, you still have value.”

Josh swallowed, staring at Delmar. He closed his eyes.

Cyclops turned to address the rest of the prisoners.

“Gentlemen, this is what happens when you disobey,” Cyclops said. He swung the whip into Delmar’s back. It cracked into Delmar’s weathered skin with each sentence.

“We are your gods.”

Crack.

“You are nothing.”

Crack.

“Our work is our business.”

Crack.
Delmar, his fortitude weakened, cried out.

“This is your life.”

Crack.
Josh’s friend wailed as blood fell into the powdery surface.

“This is all you will ever know.”

Josh stopped listening. He only heard the crack of the whip punctuating each sentence. Grinding his teeth, he tried to take his mind into another place.

*****

Flames ignited the flesh on his back long into the night. The guards had dumped Josh on his face into the dirt with the rest of the prisoners. His back burned as if he had never felt pain before. When he thought his skin had grown numb, a breeze would move across it and the pain would start again. The guards must have left them for dead. During the whipping, Josh passed out several times only to have Cyclops rip him back to consciousness. Sweat mixed with blood and sand.

As best as he could comprehend, the guards forced the other prisoners into the field following what Cyclops called, “the show.” The pirates left Josh where the prisoners had slept. The breeze increased in intensity, smacking into his ripped flesh like a razor peeling off his skin. He wondered if anything remained on his exposed back but tissue and bone.

He cried. He sobbed. Nothing mattered.
Please, Lord,
he thought,
let me die.

He tried to swallow, but his throat was too dry. He coughed, the movement hurting his back. The pain throbbed, coursing through his veins.

The smell of human waste and rotting garbage drifted from the nearby trash pit and surrounded him like a fog. He usually ignored the stench, but thought of his friend Delmar. Through the labor on the asteroid to this forsaken planet, Delmar had always been there for him. Even though Josh had passed out during his whipping, he knew the guards would have dumped his friend in the pit.

Insects buzzed around his face, squirming and fluttering into his nose. As he struggled to focus, he knew he would die. His vision darkened. When he opened his eyes, the sun had nearly finished its trek across the sky.

Josh faded, his vision growing dark. He fought the weight of his head, but released and allowed his face to fall into the sand. He blinked, wondering how much time had passed. Stars covered the black sky. A fire crackled somewhere, sending flickering orange embers into the blackness.

Wobbling, his head fell into the dirt again. He fell through time and space, transitioning from Earth to Tarton’s Junction and back again. The space station wavered before him. His Trident glimmered under the florescent lights of the station. Kadyn stood before him, her eyes peering over large sunglasses.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked.

“I’m sorry,” Josh whispered. “I should have … I should have told you.”

She disappeared. Cyclops’s whips cracked. He jolted at the sound. Was he here? Had he come to punish him again?

Darkness.

The morning sun beat down on him, burning away the sleep.

“Josh?”

He turned. Waylon knelt down over him.

“Where is Delmar?” Josh asked, although he knew the answer.

Waylon looked past his sand-caked beard to the ground. “They took him.”

Josh nodded, closing his eyes. He thought of the crate in the cargo container, the crate containing the curvature way station. Delmar seemed like he didn’t want to go in, but he did anyway.

“I’m sorry.” Josh convulsed, his tears overwhelming him. “He was right. We shouldn’t have gone.”

Cool air brushed his back. He winced and opened his eyes.

Night.

He must have passed out again. Waylon slept near him in the dirt. Prisoners snored around him.

He sat up, the skin on his back splitting. He cried out, but his voice left him. His throat felt as if it had been scorched by a blowtorch.

Burying his face in his hands, Josh sat in silence.

He opened his eyes again and tried to swallow. The ditch filled with new garbage and rotten food, sending the smell drifting over the lines of prisoners. For the first time, he stared at his friend. Waylon and his blood stained rags ripped from his back, remained next to him. Staring at the dried blood, he realized Waylon must have carried him to this area. Josh touched his shoulder, but his friend didn’t move.

“Waylon?”

He nudged Waylon’s shoulder, but the man didn’t move. Better to let him sleep, he thought.

Thinking of Delmar and his role in the kind man’s death, Josh wept, the sobbing hurt his wounds.

Footsteps stumbled through the dirt a short distance from their camp. Josh rolled on his side and remained still. He squinted, wathcing as a guard urinated at the edge of the ditch. The guard leaned back and stared into the sky. The guard took a long drink from a bottle and tossed it in with the rest of the garbage.

By daylight, the pains faded and the dryness in his throat subsided. He leaned back, but his stomach turned and he vomited. His throat burned. His dry lips cracked.

“You’re not dead,” Waylon grumbled, sitting forward.

“Wish I was,” Josh said in a raspy voice. Coping with the pain flaring on his back, he twisted to stare at the landing pad.

The Tyral spacecraft remained near the barn. Pirate guards sat around the crates. Cyclops and the guards spoke at the edge of the crates. They turned and walked in their direction.

His cracked lips parted.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” he said.

“What? Work?” Waylon asked.

“Yes.”

Waylon nodded. “I’ll cover for you. We’ll get through this.”

*****

Hours blurred into days.

The guards rushed them, driving them to finish planting the field, never explaining the need for the rush. Josh struggled to keep up, but Waylon did twice the work to cover for him. Impressed, Cyclops provided Josh medicine. At first, Josh wondered if the pills would end up being poison. But then he figured the man would have killed him by now if he wanted him dead. Cyclops drove the workers hard, filled with a new ferocity. Something pushed him, and Josh figured it had to be Dax Rodon. A deadline must be approaching, and the prisoners had to finish this field for some reason.

Prisoners received punishment for not performing up to the standards of the Tyral Pirates. The guards beat several workers each day, whipped others. The guards dumped three dead workers into the ditch at the beginning of the third day since Delmar’s death. Two had wounds from Cyclops’ bullwhip as other unfortunate prisoners carried the bodies from the field. The other man, one of Waylon’s group, had no visible wounds. Josh assumed he had worked himself to death.

On the third night, Josh killed a rat with his bare hands, breaking its neck when it tried to gnaw on his toe. In his survival training, the Lobera instructors in California had gone over the details of eating a fresh animal and living off the land. Of course, he had assumed they meant deer and not this tiny rodent. Still, meat was meat. Gathering together a shovel from the edge of the field and some grass, he built a small fire and cooked the animal for Waylon to share. While small, the rat provided them with the first fresh meat he’d eaten in months.

“Better than the milky green scum they have been giving us,” Waylon said with a smile, his teeth crunching bones.

“Yes.” Josh surveyed the landing pad and the barn. “Something’s up.”

“Up?” Waylon asked while concentrating on his food.

“At the landing pad.”

Pirates swarmed over the tug, attaching the freight container carrying the curvature. Two men working on the tug’s engine closed a metal hatch. The tug engine fired and the men cheered. Earlier in the day, the tug had fired its engine without lifting off. The tug took off with three pirate fighters for deep atmo, the boom signifying they surpassed the sound barrier.

Josh sighed as he watched the vessels flicker and disappear.

The way station Delmar had died for had escaped. Whatever planet Dax Rodon and the Tyral Pirates planned to attack would have to defend itself.

He shook away the thought.
Focus on getting yourself out of here.

By the fourth day, the pain dulled on his back although he knew it would never totally go away. Despite the situation, he felt stronger today than he did yesterday. Whatever medicine Cyclops had provided must have prevented an infection.

*****

Earlier in the day, his shovel hit something hard. When more guards worked the fields, he would have yanked out whatever caused the disruption and tossed it off the field. However, he was not under the same amount of surveillance.

He had knelt down, finding a hardened root about a foot long and several inches thick. Breaking off a piece with his shovel, he stuffed the root into his garments.

As they finished their work, he studied the field. They would soon be done plowing and planting. With no additional fields in site, Josh wondered what the Tyral Pirates would do when they finished the work.

Turning back to the landing pad, two pirate fighters remained withoug cargo containers. Wherever Dax Rodon gathered his forces, he must have all the supplies he needed.