I quickly make some adjustments on my wrist comp. With the planetary network back up and running, this should work. I hope it works, I need it to work more than I ever needed anything to work before in my life. Outside on the street, I walk over the corpses of dead grubs and head towards the location of the battle. I check my wrist comp again, verifying that it worked. I managed to create a connection to the rover. It’s my rover, nobody else’s, but I still don’t know if it’s coming.
5 kilometers, at 60 kilometers and hour, that’s 5 minutes, the longest five minutes of my life so far. I pick up the pace and run. I won’t make a huge difference, but if the rover doesn’t come, I need to get moving. Adrenaline is pumping through my veins right now, and as much as I want to stop and vomit, the spirit of Marshall, and Marki just keep pushing me as I run from the ghost of Karl. Trying to leave everything behind me and build a new future. A future with Aamina by my side, because I can’t be mad at her. A future where Niko isn’t an outcast and Thore isn’t afraid to make the decisions others are afraid to. I can’t be mad at any of them, especially not Aaimina.
I come across a group of grubs. No doubt they’re from the batch that Marshall and I freed earlier when we broke into the lab. Usually I’d try to go around, but I don’t have time right now. I never turned my rifle off so it’s a quick process as I take out the five of them and keep running. I’m not concerned with their biological makeup any longer. Nor am I worried about trying to reverse the process or the humans they used to be. Now, they are simply obstacles to be overcome and the easiest way to do that is a shot directly through the head.
I pass the bodies and for a moment I wonder just how many I had killed. How many lives did I really end? Were they still alive or were they simply trapped in the bodies that used to be their own. It doesn’t matter now. The only thing that matters to me now is making sure my friends, no family survive. We’ve been through so much we’re family now and I need them. I can’t make it on my own, and I don’t have the courage to end it either. As much as they need me right now, I need them to give me a purpose to live for.
The rover speeds directly towards me, I rush to the side as it screeches to a halt. For a brief moment I have second thoughts about this. I’m running towards my death again, it’s not the smartest thing to do. But I’m doing it. I climb in the rover and buckle myself into the harness, program it for a return trip and open my wrist comp as it takes off.
Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.
I dig through Marshall’s files until I find the information about Draven. He prefers hand to hand combat and carries a set of blades attached to his gauntlets. They can be fired off as projectiles so watch for that. In squad-based situations he plans almost compulsively with the intention of wearing down enemies and making them suffer. It’s exactly what Marshall said would happen. He’s a sociopath, he would have fared well out here.
I guess I should introduce some chaos to his battlefield. The only question is how. I’m sure the survivors cleared out most of the grubs on their way to the meeting point. The same plan wouldn’t work twice anyway, especially with the shuttle pilot probably giving them a warning beforehand. I really do hope Marshall is watching over me because I’m going to have to do something crazy as soon as I get there. Two minutes until contact, my heart feels as if it’s my throat, ready to break through the flesh.
“Duane, I’m sorry,” Aaimina’s voice breaks through the radio. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t Thore it was all my idea.”
“I don’t need this on my mind right now.”
“You need to know. I didn’t want to get too attached to you. I needed to make sure I could survive without you.”
“I don’t need this right now.”
“I love you Duane. I love you from the moment you chased me through the hospital slipping and falling trying to keep up.”
“I was not slipping and falling.”
“Yes you were, and I trapped in you in that room. You could have shot me, and I knew you were gentle and then you stood up for me to Calista when I didn’t need you to. I didn’t want my life to be all about you.”
One minute until contact, “I love you to but we can talk about this after all this is over. I need to focus. Don’t die. Please don’t die,” I end radio contact. I don’t want to think about her right now. I want to think about surviving and making an impact on the battlefield as soon as I arrive.
I think back the academy Marshall was so fond of, the training exercises we ran and war games we participated in. I hadn’t though about it in years, but it rushes back to me. I’m not good enough to be a general, but I know enough to formulate a good plan.
The battlefield comes into view. They’ve got one ship, not much bigger than the one we came here. Enough extra space to carry a few shuttles, but not enough to evacuate everyone. Draven’s men have themselves behind some portable cover and are firing at the survivors. I can’t count how many of them are left but there’s at least 50, maybe 100. A small portion are fighting hand to hand with Draven’s men in the open space between gunfire. Everything Marshall’s report said was true. I need to bring chaos as soon as I get there.