First Life, page 25
part #1 of River Saga Series
“She’s alive!” Kyle said, making room for Gwen and Desmond. I rushed over too, finding a woman with half of her face inflated. She tried to move her lips, but they were stuck. Gwen dabbed them with a wet cloth, making gentle noises.
“Tell us what happened,” Gwen implored.
The woman was nearly dead, her breaths rasping out in panicked motions. “They came. We heard them before we saw anything. A strange noise, like clicking. Then they were upon us… hundreds of them. We tried to retaliate…” She coughed up blood. “They used stingers. Poisoned us.”
“You’re going to be…” Gwen started to say, but the woman convulsed. She was dead in seconds.
Gwen shuddered and closed the lady’s eyes. Tears formed in her own. “This is a reaction. Whatever crawled from those cliffs stung them. The poison must disperse quickly.”
“Judging by the size of the tracks, that’s not surprising,” Des said.
“We need to go.” I glanced at the outer edge of the camp, where the fires continued to rage. Lingering near burning corpses was making all of us uncomfortable. I feared a Xeno attack, but had managed to hold it at bay.
We took what we could. Food and weapons. Des was adamant that we secure every last round of ammunition, energy cell charges, and frag grenades. We transferred it all to our waiting team members, and Franklin checked to see what had happened. We explained, and he stumbled, trying to gain a view of the distant camp.
“Stingers… how do we fight them?” he asked.
“Stingers. As apt of a name as any,” Des muttered. “I don’t plan to fight them.”
“Then what?” I checked.
“We meet Willow and Team Orange here.” He tapped the tablet. “It’s high ground, but only in elevation. There don’t appear to be any hills or cliffs in the vicinity. We can regroup and figure out our next step. Maybe Miya can communicate with our lovely Angor escorts in orbit.”
“Don’t you think they realize what’s happening?” Franklin spat.
“We convince them to send aid,” Desmond huffed.
I stared at the horizon, and just like that, the daylight was gone. Everything changed. The air immediately cooled, and we heard the chittering of a million insects as darkness enveloped us.
“There’s a moon,” Franklin said.
Des pointed behind us. “I think it’s that direction. With this slow rotation, it could be some time before we see their sun’s reflection.”
Thin clouds drifted overhead, and the distant stars emerged.
“Turn on the lanterns,” Franklin suggested. “These creatures have every advantage, but they won’t be used to artificial light.”
“You heard the man,” Des shouted. “Lantern up. Leave what we don’t need.”
“And what’s that?” Adley asked.
Desmond peered at Steven. “Make sure the drill-core comes. Everyone drink water and take whatever you can carry. We can’t be lugging around gallons of the stuff. Bring half the tents. We’ll cram in or share with Orange. Being heavy won’t give us the advantage. I suspect these Stingers aren’t hauling crates of supplies.”
“And weapon up. One of each pair, take all the food and water you can carry. The other, bring the guns,” I ordered.
We acted quickly, and a short time later, we were hauling three crates that were lighter than before. Instead of walking for an entire hour, we rotated every ten minutes, keeping our strength up. I kept looking behind us at the fires from Team Yellow’s camp, until we could no longer see the flames. I wished we could have done something out of respect, rather than leaving them exposed in the open, but we didn’t have the tools to dig graves, and Desmond figured that might draw out the Stingers. None of us wanted that.
Instead of heading for the mountains, we were aimed parallel to the range. We trudged on with a haze of emotions, exhausted but motivated to gain distance between ourselves and the devastated team we were leaving behind.
I kept in contact with Miya through my earpiece, and finally caught sight of their camp three hours after we departed. It was even darker by then, if that was possible. Five tents were erected, and Willow approached us, holding one of the giant GR-852s. Miya ran closer, almost jumping into my arms and hugging me.
“I’m glad you made it.” She let go, dropping to the shale. Her cheeks were red, her eyes huge. She was usually so strong, but finding a camp of dead people had changed things.
“Same here.” I smiled at Willow, but she didn’t return the gesture.
“Green was torn to shreds. Bloated. Pus. Blood.” She clenched her jaw. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”
“You haven’t seen anyone else?” Des asked.
“Nope. Just Green.” Willow glanced around the region, as if trying to spot signs of other camps. It was dark in the distance.
“How many of us do you think are lost?” Miya inquired.
“There’s no way to tell.” Desmond put his arm around her shoulders. “We’re going to be okay.”
“How? We’re on an alien planet, and the locals are hostile. We’re not trained for this,” she said. “They taught us to drill for water and shoot at digital targets, not survive in the wild with merciless predators.”
“I’m trained for this,” Des admitted. “And I say we’re fine.”
We entered Orange’s camp and worked with them to set a perimeter. The ground was level here, and we secured a panoramic view of the surrounding region from this elevated position. Soon half of our team was sleeping, with the rest preparing food.
We made large fires, and I worried this would act as a beacon. Franklin suggested the opposite. He thought the flames would repel the Stingers. Time would tell.
After another hour, we finally broke, digging into some reheated meal packs.
We used the crates as benches, and Willow barely touched her food. “Where do we go, Desmond?”
All eyes settled on the mustached man, and he scooped another mouthful, chewing methodically before answering. “The Angor gave us a destination.”
“But you said so yourself. Those mountains are probably littered with the enemy,” Miya barked.
“They likely are. That’s why we’re bypassing them.” He indicated the edge of the range on his tablet. The hills continued for miles, but he suggested a pass between two large ones that would only add about four miles to the total journey.
“It’s our best shot,” I whispered. My food was bland, but I ate every morsel, knowing I needed the energy. These people had taken the Angor pills to help them regenerate. Mine were ineffectual, thanks to the Xeno inflicting my body.
“We have weapons, and the Stingers have lost the advantage,” Des said.
“How?” Franklin gathered the empty dishes.
“We know they exist. Team Yellow and Green had no idea they were being hunted. We can anticipate it. Set up defenses.” Des glanced at the line of citizens carrying guns at strategic points around camp.
“Do you think these Stingers will strike us?” Miya asked.
Desmond nodded slowly. “Yes. But we’ll be prepared.”
Miya bumped my knee with hers. “Did you ever find out what was on that device?”
I’d forgotten about the photo tablet until this moment, and I rushed off, retrieving it from my pack. It powered up, and I chuckled as an image of me with a bowl haircut and a light blue suit appeared on the screen. I skipped past it, bringing up the security prompt.
This was my issue. I tried a few passwords, ones I thought might crack the code, but none of them worked. “Is there a limit?” I asked Miya, and she took the tablet, typing on it with effective speed.
“Doesn’t appear to be, which is unusual. These things often have a five-attempt maximum or something, but your dad must have disarmed the feature.”
“Why?”
“Did he give this to you?” she asked.
I nodded.
“Then there had to be a reason.”
Over a decade had passed since that night, but it came rushing back with clarity.
____________
Ten Years Ago
Fayetteville, Arkansas
“You’re making a mistake.” My father had always been larger than life, but these days, he’d seemed fragile. Gaunt. He ate less, and I often heard him up in the middle of the night, tinkering in the garage. I lived in the house next door, not wanting to leave my parents alone out here. They were sitting ducks, with no other living soul left on our block.
Fayetteville was dead. Billy’s Bargains had done good business in those early years, but in the last five, since the Angor had offered greater incentives to work on the coast, specifically on these new barges, everyone had finally bailed.
Now we were lucky to have two customers a week, and they were shadier than ever. I mostly worked odd jobs, helping people repair their derelict homes. I patched foundations, fixed gutters, and replaced sink drains. The city’s sewer system and water lines were long corroded and unused, making the process even more difficult. Here I was, almost twenty-five and living with Xeno, and I’d accomplished nothing with my life.
Every time I mentioned moving away, my mother broke out in tears, like the notion of her sick son leaving her would be enough to kill her on the spot. I was done waiting for their timeline to expand my horizons.
“It’s been two years since I had an episode.” I tossed the pack into the bed of the truck. It landed with a thud. Everything I needed was in there.
“Your mother will be lost without you,” Dad told me. His eyes held a sadness, an exhaustion he’d been carrying since that day he’d met with the Angor all those years before. Most nights you’d find him at his computer, or sending those archaic messages through this Morse code relay system. I tried not to pry, but his communications had become more frequent.
“She’ll be fine. I’m grown up. I have to forge my own future,” I told him.
My mother frowned at us from the window, and I waved at her. She finally came out, carrying an object in her hands. When had my parents become so old? “Are you certain you won’t come with us to Florida?” Her voice was high-pitched. She used that tone when she wanted something.
“No, Mom. I can’t.”
She let out a sigh of resignation. “Take this.”
I accepted the tablet, watching pictures of us scrolling across it. “You don’t have to give me this.”
My parents looked at each other before settling on me. “When you’re nearing the end, promise you’ll come home to us.”
“My Xeno?” I asked.
“Yes. I know you don’t like to talk about it, but… when you’re given a timeline, don’t shut us out. We’ll watch over you. Make sure you’re safe.” My dad’s words sounded like they were coming from someone else.
“How can you ensure that? I’ll be dead.” I didn’t press the subject, but my dad grabbed my arm, tugging me closer.
“Son. If you’ve ever listened to me before, do it now. The proof is in there.” His gaze slipped to the tablet. “Family is all you need. Are you listening? Family is all you need.”
I shrugged him off. “Okay. I’ll come home.”
His tense shoulders relaxed, and his grip loosened. I hugged them both, took one last glance at the house I’d grown up in, and climbed into the truck. It rumbled when I started it, and I left them standing on the street, watching me drive down the block. Instead of taking the main road, I turned and drove to Indie’s house. I’d visited countless times after she’d left. I’d sit in her room, wishing her home, until one day I forbade myself to go. It was pointless to agonize over things I couldn’t control.
Ten years. She’d left after finding out I had Xeno, and I’d never heard from her again. I did see her father’s name listed on some obscure Unity Tower websites, but the Angor were discreet in their employment records.
The house was overgrown with vines, the grass thick and weedy. The driveway was cracked, and their abandoned car was rusted out. Her neighbor had left a few weeks after them, like most of the population. Why had I stayed for so long?
Indie had started a new life, and it was my turn to do the same.
____________
Now
“Colton, what’s the matter?” Miya asked.
I was staring at the tablet. “I have it!”
She jumped to her feet, watching as I entered the password. Familyisallyouneed. The screen unlocked, and I laughed.
“They’re here!” Justin shouted from his sentry position.
The camp broke into panic, but Desmond strode through the ranks, offering encouragement. He hadn’t expected them tonight, predicting we wouldn’t face the Stingers until we neared the hills, but he was wrong.
The tablet was all but forgotten as I carefully concealed it, reaching for a GR-852. It felt good to carry such a powerful weapon, and I studied the prefight checklist Leruf had recommended. The energy cell was charged and inputted to full capacity. The digital readout indicated I had eighty-seven rounds of power remaining.
We jogged to the edge of camp, past the fires and crates of gear. The team members on resting duty were climbing from the beige tents, accepting weapons as fast as Franklin and Ambrose could hand them out.
The night was dark, but we caught enough of the landscape from the starlight. We heard them before we saw the figures. I aimed my weapon, ready to attack on Desmond’s word. His arm was in the air while he directed his Marksman, and he rushed in between the two hundred of us and the incoming enemies. I still couldn’t see the Stingers, but sensed their inevitable arrival.
I felt too exposed.
“Don’t shoot!” Des shouted.
I lowered the huge gun. “What is it?”
Desmond slung his rifle over his shoulder and bounded from our position. I chased after him, quickly realizing why he held fire.
Bull sauntered into view, his white uniform caked in shale and blood. There were about twenty-five of Team Black, and I spotted the old guy with the eye patch, along with their Team Lead, Gordon Tremblay. He briefly clapped backs with Desmond.
“Come. Join our camp,” Des said, without asking what happened.
A few of the people were injured, and I saw how the other team members assisted them with compassion. Soon our people were surrounding the newcomers, easing the burden.
“Bull, are you wounded?” I asked the big man.
“No.” His expression was bleak. “We lost so many.”
I told him that Yellow and Green had met a similar fate, and he shrank at the news.
“The bastards surprised us from nowhere. They took advantage of the sunset, came in from that direction while it blinded us. They were everywhere. Hundreds.” Bull sank onto a crate, and I passed him a canteen. He guzzled deeply before staring into the distance.
“How did you escape?”
He winced at this. “We’re Team Black. We don’t let a few bugs crush us. We step on them.”
Despite his bluster, he was almost nodding off. “You need to sleep. Sure you don’t want to see a doctor?”
He nodded, and let me guide him into one of our vacant tents. I peered around camp, watching Gwen and the Orange doctor, Adesh, a young man with thick black hair and a British accent, attend to their injured.
It was going to be a long night.
EIGHTEEN
I didn’t recall falling asleep, but I woke in pain, with my spine contorted on the uneven ground. My neck rested on my outstretched arm, and I clutched the GR-852 like a lifeline. Others were scattered on the ground in a similar fashion, and I brushed some of the red shale from my cheek.
The star was set, but a golden moon hung over us. It was a giant glowing orb, and I could make out gorges and craters on its surface. It was radiant, and I took its appearance as an omen of good fortune. We were going to make it. We’d survive.
Then I recalled that my own cutoff date was looming close, and sealed my lids shut for a second. The air was sweeter today, less acidic. Another positive sign.
“Let’s break camp,” Des said. He was with Gordon and Willow, and by the looks of the trio, none of them had slept a wink. Gordon was an older man, probably Desmond’s age. He had fewer wrinkles in his face, but his eyes told another story. A darkness lingered in them, as if he’d been to hell and back and couldn’t wipe the image out of his mind. Despite that, he smiled as he surveyed the couple hundred or so people surrounding him.
“Two of Black died in the night,” Gwen told me as I approached the medic tent we’d set up.
“Sorry.”
She shrugged. “Not much we could do. The Stingers are too poisonous, unless you amputate the region the moment they’re stung. Even then, it might not be enough.”
I decided it would be best to steer clear of any incoming alien tails when at all possible.
We were packed and on the march in twenty minutes. No one spoke; we just trudged on, hauling the necessary gear toward our goal, which was twenty miles away. From there, we’d cross the barrier and cut in, moving for the location the Angor suggested would be our new camp. I doubted anyone was pleased at the idea of building a colony in the middle of these Stingers’ nests, but we didn’t have many options, so we stuck to the plan.
The air was humid, a vast cry from the hot and dry from before. I didn’t know which was worse. My uniform clung to my chest, and I undid a couple of buttons. I was used to walking. On the rare days I’d leave the barge, I’d take the ferry to the coast and find a trail, walking up and down the beaches for hours. Watching the waves lap against the sand. Seeing the Angor ships littering the skies. In retrospect, I should have been spending time with people. I could have tried to make friends, but it had seemed pointless to bother. I’d been far too naïve, and I was grateful that had changed. Good people were out there, and the ones I surrounded myself with reminded me of this.
I was astounded at how warm the weather could be during Dicore’s lengthy night. Instead of complaining, I marched with everyone, silently focused on reaching our goal. I slowed a couple of hours later, and waited for Bull and Franklin to catch up with me.
