Too Old To Die, page 11
“Then relax.” Lyra clapped him on the back. “We’ve got plenty of time to gather that kind of stuff. Right now, we need to focus on getting that data open and trying to correlate a location for my cache. It’s going to take some digging. Don’t get frustrated. You’re on point for the decryption.”
“That part’s done.” Zed waved his hand. “You can look at the cleansed data right now.”
Barty snorted. “Then I guess you get to sit on your ass while we do the next part. Have fun.”
“I’ll help,” Zed grumbled. “I want to get paid, after all. You should’ve told us the plan from the beginning.”
Lyra replied, “And you should’ve done your job from the beginning. But we both had our failings, didn’t we? So let bygones be bygones and focus on the task at hand. If this works out, gentlemen, we’re going to be rich beyond your wildest dreams. I guarantee it.”
“Yeah?” Barty tilted his head. “What if they didn’t finish making whatever they were researching? That’ll leave us in quite the lurch.”
“Oh, partial data will still be valuable. Perhaps even to the military itself. I’m not above turning it over to them. But the fact everyone died? That says something. The more death surrounding a treasure, the greater the likelihood it’s worth something huge. You know that. You’ve been around pirates long enough.”
“To know,” Barty said, “that they often die when going after some elusive ‘treasure.’ This is not going to end well. I can all but guarantee that.”
“And I think we’ll be royalty,” Lyra replied. “So it’s my vision we’ll be focusing on. Zed, get your ass up there and open the files. We’ll work on this together. We’ve got about forty-five minutes before we arrive at the next system and not a lot of fuel. We need to know where to go next to resupply before we head out for the greatest find of our generation.”
Barty sighed. “I hate it when you try to be inspirational. It never works for me.”
“Maybe you need to be easier to inspire,” Lyra said. “Anyway, you love my speeches.”
“When I’m drunk. And I haven’t had anything to drink for several days.”
“We’ll change that.” Lyra headed back toward the cockpit. “When we’ve found our destination, I’ll serve the rounds myself.”
It’s close now. I can feel it. I’ll be out of this life forever soon. Back to something respectable. Or at least luxurious. Just a matter of staying focused. Eye on the prize, woman. Keep your eye on the prize.
Chapter 8
Gareth knew the area well, even though he hadn’t scoured the whole place. Seeing it from on high so many times gave him a solid understanding of where the trees were too dense to pass through, how many points contained jagged rockets, and the small streams cutting between them all.
The Veldon didn’t seem to be in a big hurry as they hunted for the guy who killed one of their own. He kept ahead of their scouting mission though he still had to cut the long way around to get to his destination. The house couldn’t have been more than half a mile away, but he still felt like it might take thirty minutes to get there.
Half crawling through the bushes isn’t helping matters. Stepping out meant exposing himself to multiple enemies, not to mention the ships flying around overhead. They cast light down on the trees, trying to penetrate the heavier foliage. Fortunately, they focused their efforts on the south, a fair enough distance away that he didn’t worry too much.
“They’re closing,” Zoe said. “At least two of them are coming close to our position.”
“Thanks,” Gareth muttered. “I’m moving as fast as I can without turning this into open season.”
“It kind of already is, don’t you think? They know you’re out here somewhere. You’re armed with one of their weapons. This is a real threat they have to worry about, Garry. I’m growing concerned about our chances to make it to our destination. Do you think it’s possible to make it over there before—”
“Yes,” Gareth said, “please stop. I need to concentrate and listen. You’re distracting me.” He paused, taking in the scene for a good ten seconds. Breaking branches behind him confirmed Zoe’s fears. The Veldon couldn’t have been too far off. He might’ve taken down two, but she didn’t offer any certainty of the number.
Three is more than I’m willing to risk my life on. If they were moving away from me… that would be different. I might not have a choice in a minute. His pursuers might force his hand soon considering they didn’t have the limitation of crouching as they moved. His knees complained, pain spiking into his feet.
Sweat soaked his face and hands. He dried them on his pants though it only barely helped. I have to get there soon. Every breath felt thick, as if he needed to cough. Any reaction to the misery promised to give away his position. Even a sneeze might be fatal. He struggled to get enough oxygen.
I have to kill them. That’s the only way I’m getting some relief from this. With the other Veldon looking for him elsewhere, this might’ve been his only chance to take on a smaller number. Unless they’re actively tracking me. Which is a possibility I suppose. Their terminal has probably been working now for a while.
“What’re you thinking about doing?” Zoe asked. “Your blood pressure is going up. Adrenaline? Garry… whatever you’re thinking… this might not be—”
“It’s the only way,” Gareth muttered. “Just… take a moment to pray. If you can still do that. We might need a little divinity at a time like this.” He moved to the nearest tree, leaning against it. The trunk wasn’t as wide as he would’ve liked, meaning it would’ve provided partial cover at best.
Better than nothing, I guess. The Veldon closed the distance. Light glinted off their armor as they approached. He prepared himself, drawing a slow breath. His lungs burned, his throat tickled… he fought back an inevitable cough… then stood with the rifle stock pressed against his shoulder.
Three Veldon stood in a staggered formation, two nearer with one in the back. Gareth shot the first one in the head. As the body lurched backward, the other two didn’t hesitate. They directed their weapons toward him. He got one more shot off before having to duck. If it hit, he would’ve been shocked.
Beams struck the tree directly above his head. He shifted away, hustling toward the next bit of cover which proved to be even more pathetic than the last. But his opponents didn’t remain still. They dashed after him, eager for a kill. Their heavy footsteps crushed the bushes behind him. They couldn’t have been more than thirty feet away.
Gareth tossed himself forward, twisting in the air. He came down on his back while opening fire. The blind shots slowed their advance. One of them took a hit to the shoulder. The other one moved toward his flank.
Kicking at the ground, Gareth shuffled away, blasting his first target another three times in the chest and stomach. The armored form disappeared. Whether that meant he went down or merely dropped for cover, it made no difference. A moment’s relief was more than sufficient to get to his feet.
Time to run. Gareth dashed away from the bushes into the open. A shot cut close to his head, near enough that his vision blurred. He twisted to shoot back, catching the Veldon in the leg. The beast returned fire without so much as crouching or acknowledging the blow.
Red-hot pain rushed through Gareth’s left side, starting at the shoulder then lancing out. He gasped, choking on the inhale. His foot caught a rock, stealing his balance. He dropped, weightless for all of three seconds before his right side hit the ground. A short roll took him into the bushes where he came to a halt.
Zoe’s voice buzzed in his head. Gareth couldn’t make out her words. He rolled on his back, crying out from a new rush of agony. His attacker approached, closing the distance between them. It didn’t move fast, didn’t even aim its weapon. Does it think it’ll take me prisoner?
The Veldon rarely spared people. They didn’t seem to care about information. Intelligence suggested they could get everything they needed on their own without bothering to interrogate anyone. Even to the detriment of some of the battles they got in. Gareth knew of at least three instances they might’ve gathered valuable info had they not been kill crazy.
It got so bad no one even tried to surrender.
This moment shouldn’t be happening. Gareth had no idea why the thing didn’t attack him, didn’t gun him down when he hit the ground. Something has definitely changed. They’ve attacked Earth and aren’t straight murdering people. Unless he just wants to look me in the face.
Gareth held the rifle still. He couldn’t move his left arm, but if he got the weapon poised properly, he might save himself. A moment of straining brought the barrel onto the toe of his boot. He lowered his hand until the weapon aimed at the chest of the approaching alien. Another two steps…
The thing grunted, likely calling back to its buddies. Gareth imagined it reported that the threat had been contained. Not yet, asshole. He pulled the trigger. The weapon bounced off his foot but the shot struck home. Dead center in the Veldon’s chest, drawing a high-pitched cry from it as it dropped to the ground.
Go! Adrenaline compelled Gareth to his knees. He shuffled closer, pressing the weapon to the creature’s stomach before pulling the trigger again. A scorch mark scuffed the armor. The beast convulsed then went still. I have to get out of here. Now! The house stood to his left. A short hundred yard dash which felt like miles.
The Veldon shuttles held their positions. I’ve got a couple minutes at most. Gareth crawled to his feet then stumbled for his destination. Every step filled him with agony. He could barely breathe through it. The trip felt impossible. Even if he made it, he figured he’d end up dead on the man’s porch.
“I’m initiating a cutoff,” Zoe said, “it’ll buy you a few minutes.”
What the fuck is that? Gareth couldn’t recall the terminology in any briefing. They didn’t have a conversation about it, at least as far as he could remember. He suffered from brain fog. A single focus drove him forward. Get to the house. Whatever else happens, I have to get to that place. Then… it’ll all be fine.
Where he came up with the lie, he had no idea. But it felt real. And he clung to it. Even as the pain alleviated enough to make walking possible. Another thirty yards. I’m home free. Just… a little… more.
***
Doctor Augustus Keppler shoved three heavy crates onto a trolley. A full alert blared in his lab, one he allowed to continue. The noise annoyed him, driving him to move faster. With a full-on invasion taking place, he figured his home might end up a target if the enemy picked up all the power used at his estate.
What an inconvenient time to have to flee. Of all the places he could live, that one seemed the least likely to experience an attack. Or anything else exciting for that matter. I was supposed to be able to work in peace here. My contacts promised no one came this far out! Now we’ve got Veldon beasts combing the area!
August had no idea what they might be after nor why they’d bother to visit the remote region at all. Surely, my house can’t be that much of a beacon to them! This is outrageous! Where the hell is the military? Why are they allowing these animals to spill down on the planet without a challenge?
Before the satellites went out, August witnessed the global attack. Orbital bombardment commenced on several cities. They hit them hard and fast, bringing down defensive structures and civilian alike. No one seemed to be fighting in orbit either, though the debris out there suggested a brief conflict at the very least.
If anyone survives this, some of our leaders will find themselves without a job! That’s for certain.
A different alarm went off. This one, the perimeter alert. Someone approached the front door. August rushed to one of the bigger monitors. He expected to see the Veldon. Instead, a man reclined there on his porch, a black mark on his left shoulder. One of the enemy weapons rested beside him.
“Zoom in,” August said, “region three-two.” The man’s face came into focus. Oh, I know you. My neighbor. Commander Gareth Weston. Retired. He’d taken the time to catalog everyone in the area. The commander held his interest as someone he might’ve turned to if he needed assistance. I could definitely use him now. If he’s not dead. “Scan him.”
A blue line rushed over Gareth. Readings came back, showing he’d taken a blast from one of the rifles to the shoulder. That blow should have killed him. While the Commander was in bad shape, he had survived it. Even made it to the door without dying. The sensors caught something else. Some kind of implant in the man’s skull.
What do we have here? August narrowed his eyes, leaning in to look at the data. Inconclusive? Preposterous! My equipment shouldn’t… well, never mind. We don’t have time to worry about that now. Not if I’m going to save his life. He sighed. There might only be one way to bring him around and make him useful.
“Serum count,” August called. “Ready for test.”
“Five stages are complete. Six will be prepared in forty minutes, thirty two seconds.”
Damn. August frowned. I suppose it won’t matter if we’re all dead. He can’t have them all at once anyway. The implant worried him. It may cause a reaction. Again, if Veldon monsters kill me, my stinginess won’t get me far. He hurried through the lab then up the stairs toward the front door.
The Veldon seemed to be looking for something. What, he had no idea, but they sure took their time about it. The two shuttles in motion bothered him. If he took off, they might give chase. Though the ships bombarding the planet seemed to be a bigger threat, albeit not as immediate.
They’ve already destroyed multiple ships trying to flee the area. August doubted he had much of a chance though he intended to try. That vessel is top-of-the-line. It has the best systems a civilian can buy and a few military applications I shouldn’t have. If anyone can get out of here… well, it probably still isn’t me, damn it!
But with a war hero, his chances increased exponentially.
August opened the front door. He looked outside, peering across his yard. No Veldon seemed to be out there. He grabbed Commander Weston by his good arm then dragged him inside. Once there, he bent to examine the wound. The burn went straight through to the bone, causing bone and muscle damage.
I bet it not only hurts, but rendered the arm useless. Well, you’re in luck today, my friend. You came to the right place. “Lock down the estate,” August shouted, “all windows, doors, and hard points. Shield the generators.” I’ll need power for another twenty minutes or so. That should be more than enough time.
“You awake?” August nudged Commander Weston’s head twice. “Hey! Wake up!”
“Huh?” Weston coughed three times, then groaned.
“There you are. Welcome back.”
“What… I… where am…”
“You made it to my home,” August said. “I need your help. You’re a beast of a man and I’m not able to carry you completely so at least crawl in this general direction.”
Weston shoved up with his one good hand, managing to get to his knees. The willpower alone surprised August. This man doesn’t know how to quit. Fantastic. He helped him get the rest of the way to his feet, then steadied the man. They worked together to get to the stairs. “Yes, this will be terrible. I’m sorry.”
“I can make it,” Weston grunted. He spoke through clenched teeth, pain making his voice tremble. “But what… what’s the point? What’re we going to do down there?”
“Get you some help,” August said, “then we’re getting the hell out of here. As soon as possible.”
“We… can’t… just… just leave.” Weston shook his head. “There are civilians… people out there.”
“There’s nothing we can do for them,” August replied, “but you and I can escape. Get help.” Maybe. I doubt it. But this honor bound fool won’t accept anything less. “You’re too hurt to take on two ships worth of Veldon.”
“How… do you expect…” Weston hissed as they started down the stairs. The trip kept him from talking. He huffed, struggling to breath. His face turned sheet white before they reached the bottom. “God… this hurts. How do you expect to get out of here? We don’t exactly… have a vehicle.”
“I do. It’s in a hangar down the escape tunnel over there.” August led him to a table. “Sit down here. I need to get something to help your wound.”
“What… what’re you going to do to me? Why do you have an… an escape tunnel? Who the hell are you?”
“My name is Doctor Augustus Keppler.” He helped Weston recline on the table then rushed over to the workbench. Five beakers were filled with blue liquid, the sum total of his life’s work. The reason he lived in the remote area of the mountains. And potentially, the only way Gareth Weston would survive the next ten minutes.
Or he’ll die horribly and I’ll still be on my own. But those are the chances we have to take. August filled an air hypo with the first treatment. It hissed when it was ready for the injection. This will either be my greatest accomplishment or a terrible tragedy. If it didn’t work as expected, he considered going out to meet the Veldon.
After all, what will be the point? Failure after all this time… No! It’s not possible. August approached his patient. “This is going to hurt so incredibly bad, you’ll think I shot you again. But it will help. I promise.”
“Wait…” Weston tried to sit up, half a second before the hypo touched the side of his neck. “You… what are you… what is… holy shit!” He screamed, arching his back as he practically flew off the table.
August grabbed him, holding him in place. “Readings!” he shouted, “give me vitals! Life signs! Damage report! Something!” Weston proved to be a strong bastard, thrashing around enough that he should’ve been strapped down. Fortunately, he could only use one of his hands. The other one remained limp at his side.
This is the man while injured. And old, for God’s sake! Maybe I’ve got something here after all.
***
Gareth had never been a stranger to pain. Memories of the worst experiences of his life came back to haunt him. A thrashing from his father. Falling off a tree, breaking his leg. Taking a beating from a boy twice his size. The first time he’d been shot. Missing his landing when jumping out of a shuttle.
