The Hell With Earthside: A Novella (STRYDER'S HORIZON Book 1) (5 page)

The tube delivered fresh water to millions of Earthsiders. I wondered if any of them knew that right now those tubes of water were home to ten Colonial officers, waiting for the Dessup Gang.

I knew I’d have to think twice about having a glass of water tonight. I know the filters are within the faucet themselves, but it doesn’t change the fact that it was bathwater. Call me old fashioned for preferring my water from the ground.

Davis was confident that this was the tube the Dessup Gang was going to use. They had plenty of options since the citizens of Earthside had to have every utility and resource delivered right to their door, but Davis said it would be the water supply.

Hours ticked by and in my head I wondered if the gang had some one on the inside who knew of this top-secret ambush. Or perhaps the
Dessup had a change of philosophy and decided to love thy neighbor. Or perhaps they just wanted the night off.

In one swoop, the
Dessup appeared out of an undetermined entry point.

“They either blew a hole in the tube there or there’s something missing on the schematics here,” Davis thumped his fist. “Check it out,” he ordered some underling. “Don’t let them see you. It might be their exit point as well so stack a squad nearby and wait for my orders.”

Davis smirked and gave me a nod of satisfaction. He seemed too confident in this plan. It felt like an omen.

The officers I had trained lined up in position. Davis had rigged the test flows of the tubes to direct the
Dessup the rest of the way. Hopefully the Dessup were too busy reacting to the bursts or air to get any inkling of our trap.

The
Dessup were good. They flew like hummingbirds darting from side to side. It took me back to when I first stood at the edge of the dig and watched as the drill-runners risked their lives. There had been a lump in my throat then, too. I had just been told I was going to be trained as a drill-runner. I remember thinking,
well good thing I didn’t have any idea what I wanted to do with the rest of my life.
I was sure then that I was a goner.

Yet here I was.

“You should see the first wave of them in five seconds,” David told the officers. That five seconds seemed like forever had taken a nap. Then we saw them on the viewer. They knew immediately they were in danger. They didn’t stand a chance. Most of the little bombs missed, but the explosions underwater caused a large air pocket that flung two of the Dessup into a wall.  The rest of the officers clamored over the third one until they drove him into a wall. The next wave was already on its way. The only question was whether or not the first wave had been able to alert their buddies of our trap.

We knew sooner tha
n expected. The Dessup attacked. The other waves sped up until nine were closing in. I wanted to look away but I didn’t. I was paralyzed.

My eyes couldn’t comprehend what they saw next. The drill-runners combatted each other. Not just flinging bombs, the
Dessup were advanced, I could see now that they had armored their runners probably for such a moment, and now they rammed the officers.

Our guys had resilience on their side and adapted quick. Two managed to take out one more
Dessup.

Another explosion appeared on the viewer, a direct hit took out one more. We hadn’t lost anyone yet. My head finally turned just to try and read the expression on Davis’ face better. He wasn’t satisfied yet, nor could I be. Not until all the
Dessup were defeated.

But that didn’t take long at all.

We all celebrated into the night.

“Told you!” Davis said having lost any sense of professionalism.

We drank
Kirmine, which grew on me as the night went on. I stumbled back and forth between cheers and discordant verses.

“If you had told me the
Earthsiders partied like this, I would not have believed you, Kimmie,” Gregor said, his quiet soberness almost cleaned me up on the spot.

“Lighten up, Gregor, it worked. We’re headed home with a lot of credits.”

“A lot of credits,” Colonial Officer Davis confirmed in slurs.

“See, maybe we can get a drill-runner or two thrown in.”

“Don’t know why not?”

“She can’t take mine!” one of the officers called from a game of darts halfway across the room. Apparently we weren’t using our indoor voices.

“Can’t take hers,” Davis noted and threw back a swig of Kirmine that probably displaced his vital organs. He shook and smiled.

Gregor looked at me like he was tired, ready to go. His sad eyes bought every ounce of sympathy I had and in a few seconds, my mind was clear and sober. I set down a glass with barely a swallow left and excused myself.

“Going so fast, Stryder?”

“While I appreciate the hospitality, Burnside is calling our names.”

“All of Earthside is calling yours louder. Thank you, Stryder. You have set up the first runner task force. I can only imagine the missions they’ll stack up on our desks. I just knew it would work.”

“Did you, did you really?”

My question gave Davis pause. I could almost see him coming through the fog of Kirmine, but he took another gulp before he said, “I used to watch you on your runs, back in the day. We all did, no one forgot your name that saw you.  If they didn’t know it, they wanted to, Kimberly Stryder. What you could do, you’re a beautiful woman.”

Davis kept his eyes on the table and drank some more.

Burnside may have been a desolate hodgepodge of failed terraforming, but after over a week in the glossy sheen of
Earthside, there was something pleasant about the rugged terrain.

I’d ordered several parts for Old Shepard with my reward and if my luck continued they’d be waiting for me when I returned home, but my first stop was Macy’s Pub.

There, a few familiar names and faces, and even more familiar faces without familiar names welcomed me, but Gregor knew them all so there was no cause for me to memorize them.

“Was that you in
Earthside?”

“Sure,” I said as people refused to let me spend the reward, instead I drank for free and found something less stuffy and dry than
Kirmine to get my buzz going. The conversations came from all directions and I lost count of who was speaking. I just tried to enjoy myself.

“
Bet the Dessup are real pissed.”

“That’s it though, I thought I heard y’all caught all of them?”

“Can’t believe you wasted your time on those Earthsiders.”

“Let me buy you a drink, a dead
Dessup is a good Dessup.”

“Hey, what’s the best part of running into the
Dessup Gang?”

I missed the punch line but it sent the rest of Macy’s into raging ball of laughter.

“No, no!” A drunk closest to me tried to silence everything, “What’s the best part of the Dessup running into your girlfriend?” He almost didn’t miss a beat before he gave his answer, “Not having to tell your wife she’s having your kid!”

Somebody helped him away from the bar while he tried to convince us it was all funny, explaining it to a T, “Cause you see I was cheating on… and she’s… but now I don’t have to cause she’s dead… right?”

I’d lost sight of Gregor. He had been talked into heading back to his shack by some young skirt. There was a baseball game on the feed and I found myself unable to keep up with the pitch count. A hit to the outfield wall and a run scored that I hadn’t realized had been on base.  I was exhausted and would probably do better to get home and pass out. But something in the stands bothered me as the camera revealed the cheering fans.

My mind went back to the early morning that Gregor and I left
Earthside I remembered something strange, something on the horizon, speckled silhouettes. They were like bugs in the far corner of the ceiling, sitting there where they didn’t belong, but far enough from my reach to not care since it didn’t appear to be bothering me.

That’s when the game’s feed was interrupted.

There was no difficulty imagining the Dessup who took center screen and pointed at all viewing her message. She was young and mean looking, like a rabies infested possum with a pink Mohawk and black-capped teeth checkering her vile mouth.

“That was real funny,”
she said with a twisted smile and worse sounding chirp of a laugh. That was it, and then the feed resumed the ballgame.

“What the hell was that?”
was thrown about the pub in various forms. But I knew exactly what it was.

A news bulletin didn’t need to confirm, but the game was cut away from again as a plastic looking newscaster looked sternly at us all, “
Earthside is under imminent threat. Please refrain from leaving your homes or jobs. All doors will be secured until the matter is dealt with. Please stay tuned for live updates and look-ins to this frightening turn of events.”

The feed cut to the streets of
Earthside.

It should be illegal to televise such things.
Earthside hadn’t received the bulletin in time. There were hundreds being dragged through the streets, ripped to shreds by the Dessup Gang. There was silence in the pub as the carnage gripped us. I begged to look away, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to believe what was happening.

Stop airing it!

I knew this was retaliation. Damn Davis for not thinking this through. I wanted to blame him, but shouldn’t I have known better?

Some one gasped, “Why are they showing this?”

The violence has escalated. Flesh was being peeled before the camera. Teeth were pulled. Bones were dug out and cleaned. I thought I recognized some of the Colonial officers being dragged through the streets.

Then there were the sounds.
Everyone in Burnside knew the Dessup’s howl. It didn’t need to be broadcast. We all felt it in our temples and rib cages, down to our fingernails feeling like they were about to snap off. It sounded worse than ever before.

The Newscaster began to wrap up the segment like it was a weather report,
“As the onslaught continues let us take a break while we await for the Colonial Officers to round up these ruffians.”

Scoffs were just one sound of displeasure that filled the pub. I was already on my way out. There was no sense sticking around as advertisements flickered on the viewer.

I hoped Davis would retaliate, I hoped he would hunt down every last Dessup.

My home, shoddy as it was, had a nice view of the Jefferson Plateaus. I always knew I was coming home as I rounded a wall of trees and saw the flat horizon give way to the protrusions in the distance. There were some nights I raced ghosts all the way out to them. Even got Old Shepard and myself stranded out there a few times. I liked to think Old Shepard just wanted to stay out there. Tonight was one of those nights I would do it. I would floor the accelerator and drive Old Shepard straight through the plateau wall. Only, I stopped right outside my door and just sat in the seat, gripping the steering wheel without a single good thought.

I hated the
Dessup Gang.

Old Shepard growled in idle. H
e hated them, too.

I thought I could talk myself out of what I wanted to do. I thought that maybe just maybe I could bat an eye and find a comfy nook in my bed and call it a night. Only that wouldn’t happen, and I knew that. There was no thinking required.

A voice snuck up on me. “What are you doing?”

It was Alice. She was perched on my porch. I hadn’t noticed her before as my eyes stared out at the Jefferson Plateaus.

She couldn’t break my train of thought, couldn’t stop the hate pumping through my veins.

“Hey? You okay?”

I glared, but the young woman only smirked.

“Who pooped in your carburetor?” She laid her hands on Old
Shepard and leaned through the passenger side window. “Been waiting for you to get back, had plenty of time to practice the turns. You still scared to face me again?”

“I’m not racing.”

“Come on, I’ve been waiting for over a week.”

“I’m not in the mood, Alice.”

“Yeah, you don’t look it. What gives?”

That’s when it dawned on me. It would be a week before Colonial Officer Davis and a new merry group of drill-runners could retaliate. Things were not going to get any better for
Earthside in the meantime. And if the Dessup Gang won Earthside it wouldn’t be long before they came back to claim all of Burnside.

“You want a real race?”
I asked.

“Turnaround,” the colonial officer said at the gate to Earthside.

“You’re going to want to let us in.”

The officer examined Gregor, Alice and I.  We had to look a little harmless on account that we didn’t bare any of the Dessup Gang’s colors or piercings. But I was seething with anger still and Gregor looked like a guilty child. Alice probably looked like a prostitute, but I wasn’t going to mention that to her again.

“Look, bub, get your superior on the line and tell them help is here. We know you all need an exterminator, well here I am.”

The officer tucked his lip in as he gauged how much trouble he could get into by asking his command if three derelicts from Burnside could come dirty up their failing utopia.

“One moment,” he said silen
cing his guard station. We could barely see his lips moving as he contacted someone.

“I don’t like this,
Kimmie.” Gregor had been looking over his shoulder for the last twenty minutes as I argued with the officer.

“What’s not to like?”

“You don’t go looking for trouble. Trouble is always looking for you. Why make it easier and meet it halfway?”

“Because I don’t like waiting.”

The officer looked at me, I couldn’t tell if he wanted to smile or not, he had a strained look of irritation and joy and said, “You may pass.”

Earthside had looked obliterated on the newsfeeds, but what we stepped through was mostly garbage. A tube supplying all the water had been blown and had flooded a large portion of the street. We didn’t get very far before our sightseeing ended.

A platoon of colonial officers swarmed us, guns drawn, eyes targeting. I thought it was a firing squad before they waved us to follow them. They cleared the area in front, looking, high and low, right to left. It seemed a bit much, but I wasn’t there when the
Dessup attacked. It must’ve been brutal.  These officers treated the once immaculate and manicured street as a warzone.

We cut through a hole in a building, took a tunnel deeper,
and then I could tell we were on the rise. The room I thought we entered as a platform elevator.  Gregor almost lost his balance as it shot upward.  He looked at me like it was all my fault, but I’d never designed a building in my life.

We entered a war room. Officers were analyzing maps and structural damage, life supports and more. They were broken up into stations. At least one woman was roving through them to keep check on progress. She had the bitterest face of them all.

“Who’s this?” she barked.

“Kimberly
Stryder, her mechanic, and it seems another pilot.”

“Seems?” She glared at the officer who had led us through hell.

“Alice Murphy, pilot.” Alice confirmed.

The woman scoffed, “Davis’?”

She turned to the officer next to her who confirmed with a nod that tasted bad.

“Where is he? Get him up here,” she ordered before turning back to us. “Don’t touch anything. Go into that room over there, and don’t touch anything.”

She seemed to be placing a strong emphasis on touching, kind of awoke the teenage rebel within me. But I was a good girl and we went into a glass room and waited like products in a store window.

Alice found a chair to flop into and said,
“We should just take care of the Dessup ourselves, this is gonna be nothing but bureaucracy, a complete waste of our time. There won’t be an Earthside by the time they realize they need our help.”

Gregor faked a yawn and tapped his foot.

“It’ll work out once Davis gets here,” I said.

“I don’t think your guy is the one in charge.”

The woman entered just as Alice finished speaking.

“You’re the hot shot that trained the drill-runners?”

“Yes.”

“You’ve come back to make more cannon fodder?”

“I’ve come back to be the cannon fodder. All I need is a drill-runner for Alice and I and we’ll give the Dessup Gang a first class treatment to hell.”

“I’m a Grand Officer, you say, ‘sir.’”

“Sir.” I tacked on without any real effort of respect. She didn’t like that much and I didn’t like that her position as a Grand Officer put her rank above Davis’.  He probably didn’t even have the rank to be in the war room now that I think about it. He must’ve been some guy with a dumb idea that the uppers were willing to green light on account that it couldn’t hurt. Only it did. It was successful and the Dessup didn’t like that one bit.

“Is she already trained?”

I looked at Alice and lied, “She’s better than me.”

Alice didn’t have to act. She believed the part.

The Grand Officer paced like it was in her good interest. I could tell she thought she was wasting her time, but she was waiting for Davis, maybe so that she could chew him out for inviting us here.

“There’s a file on me if you’re looking for some reading and something to do while you rack your brain around how to get the
Dessup back,” I said. “Can’t vouch for how boring it is since I didn’t write it, but give it a skim.”

“I know who you are, Miss
Stryder.”

“Well I don’t know who you are.”

“Grand Officer Tourner.”

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance
, sir.” I extended a hand that wasn’t meant to be taken. Tourner knew better than to take the bait and didn’t even acknowledge it with her eyes. “I know I can help with your Dessup problem. Even more importantly, I
want
to help with your Dessup problem.”

“I’m not accustomed to sanctifying suicides, especially when they only stir up the hornets nest.”

Alice butted in to everyone’s surprise, “You’re the one wasting our time, lady.”

“Well, then by all means, why are you here?”

“We don’t own any drill-runners. I asked for one but you never sent it.”

“Why don’t you just use Old Shepard?”  The Grand Officer knew the name of my car. I almost swooned
, but I wasn’t that easy. She spoke my beauty’s name with a careless disdain that wouldn’t earn her my friendship.

“Old
Shepard can’t move like a drill-runner. I’m going to need to go wherever they go.”

Tourner
shook her head. “They aren’t in the tubes anymore. Can’t you see you’ve flushed the rats from the sewers? They’re attacking from the streets.”

Colonial Officer Davis looked like he walked into the wrong restroom. His hand was at the doorframe, ready to back out.

“Look who has come back,” Tourner said to him. “You didn’t invite her back did you?”

“No, sir,” Davis replied.

Tourner cleared her throat and looked me in the eye, “So this means you really
do
want to be here.”

I said, “I’d like to kill them all, sir.”