Awakening: Dead Forever Book 1 (9 page)

Madison awaits my order.

Whoever I’m becoming, I don’t recall him this bloodthirsty.

“Blow those fuckers out of the sky.”

She smiles. “My pleasure, boss.”

A scorching blast pounds the defenseless vessel dead ahead. A direct hit, how could it be otherwise? The enemy craft shudders. Oh shit. I failed to calculate all results of this crazy idea.

“Dave—make a distance,
quick!
”

He veers our craft away, but it’s too late. The explosion showers us with fragments of our enemy, and threatens to destroy our craft as well. However, our favorite techno-weenie saves the day. Matt has restored the shields and kept us from harm. His quick response is helpful, but not enough to escape our next crisis. A tremendous shock wave slams us across the sky, hurling our craft out of control. Panels moan and buckle, consoles spit sparks, and smoke flows into the cockpit. The craft rocks hard and sends me stumbling. I trip over the hatchway into the rear compartment, soaring headfirst through smoky chaos, and smash into a panel. I feel out my skull, expecting to find a bloody mess, but my fingers are dry. Still hurts like hell. I spring up only to tumble over and smack the floor, or was it the ceiling? They’re trading places, flipping end over end, throwing junk into a frenzy and me into panels while a fire rages—like the dream. But this is no dream, this is real. Have my dreams foretold the future? Except the female is missing. Where is the woman who haunts my nightmares?

The craft settles somewhat, at least the ceiling and floor stop trading places, but we’re still spinning round in a flat trajectory. Matt dashes in from the cockpit with a fire extinguisher and attacks the flames. Small motors whir, I’m guessing the landing gear, but our lateral motion remains great. This is going to be one rough landing.

Back in the corridor and heading for the cockpit, I realize a use for the silly sideways ladder—something to hang on to in all this chaos. I reach the cockpit to find Dave and Madison wrestling with controls. The engines scream as Dave fights to correct the ship’s attitude. Treetops slap the hull and branches snap, beyond the forward view is a forest whipping past, and we’re on top of it. Not the best landing site, but there’s not much choice. We’re soaring into the woods and all of Dave’s efforts to avert disaster appear useless.

The forest engulfs our craft. A cacophony rises as the ship slices through smaller branches slapping and cracking, then deeper thuds as heavier trunks pound the hull. Combined with the howling engines, the orchestra of noise progresses toward a crescendo, which I fear, concludes in one harsh bang when we smack to ground.

Madison races around the cockpit while Dave stays focused on bringing us in as best he can. The landing pads hit the ground, sending a concussion throughout the ship. Tortured metal screams, trees snap and splinter, shrieking landing pads scrape and rumble. The craft is coming undone—one sharp snap then twisting metal, the floor drops from beneath us. The sagging hull burrows into soil and a tidal wave of loose dirt washes over the viewports. The sudden deceleration sends me and Madison soaring across the cockpit, and the craft comes to an abrupt halt. After a thunderous finale, the torturous symphony ebbs into an eerie quiet.

A funny thing, each time we’re knocked over, Madison finds me as a place to land. Again she is lying on my chest, her lips just above mine.

Dave remains strapped in nice and tight, facing forward and shaking his head, his only view a wall of dirt past the cockpit windows. He turns to notice us flat on the floor, and glares.

“I told you I didn’t want to.”

* * *

Matt rushes into the cockpit. “Everybody okay?” His concern shifts to disgust. “For crying out loud, Maddie, do you always find a way to lay on Adam?”

Her dreamy gaze stays with me. “My favorite position, on top of things.” She winks.

“You make me sick,” Matt says. “Get your mind out of the gutter.” He storms out of the cockpit.

Madison rises and offers a hand to pull me up. She is quite strong, yet her touch is soft. The fantasies begin, imagining all that is firm, wrapped in silky skin.

Dave unbuckles. “Be careful, Adam. You don’t want to be messing around with her.”

Madison glares at him. “Let Adam decide what he wants to mess with, that’s his business.”

Moving into the hatchway, Dave pauses. His brow tightens. “It’s not right, Maddie.”

She tracks his exit, and once he is gone, her deadly glare thaws. She returns to me, back to smiling, and slinks closer with passion in her eyes, her lips full, swelling with desire. We are alone, together. I could kiss her this instant, there is nothing to stop me, certainly not her.

Stop that. We just crashed. Why can’t I get her off my mind? It’s her fault, she’s that beautiful. She is beyond gorgeous, lips so sweet, that adoring gaze. She wants me.

No! Stop it. Not okay.

* * *

In the rear compartment, cabinets are flung open to let the contents scatter. Toolboxes are bolted down, but drawers are slid out and emptied. Crap is thrown everywhere. The flipping and turning of our descent tossed the cargo of this ship like a giant salad. Salad? That’s a thought, and my empty stomach hears it, perking up to gurgle and groan, reminding me of the last time we dined, in more ways than one.

“Hey, you guys got anything to eat around here?”

Matt glares incredulously.

Dave says, “Man, you think of food at the strangest times.” He chuckles and gets back to cleaning up the mess.

Dave and Matt are more interested in their chores, but Madison is quick to provide. She bends over to reach between mounds of junk littering the floor. “Here,” she says, clutching a small foil packet. “Have some of this. It’s not much, or very exciting, but it’ll ease your hunger.”

She tosses the packet to me. The label reads
Tasty Food Product.
A flavor might be nice. Doesn’t matter, I’m too hungry to be fussy. But how does this work? It’s all slippery.

Madison plucks it from my clumsy fingers. “Let me help you, silly. Just tear the corner and squeeze it out into your mouth.”

Squishing goo out of a slimy packet isn’t exactly my idea of a meal, but hunger calls to anything edible. She hands it over and I fill my mouth with nearly half the contents in one load. Rolling the slop across my tongue, I hope to catch a flavor before it makes the short journey to my stomach. Bacon? Maybe. And turkey. Cheese, and lots of mayonnaise, I like that. Not bad. On the backside, the label reads
Club Sandwich.
Not much of a sandwich, more like soupy gel from a blender.
Clubbed
might be a better description.

“Thank you, my dear. Not too exciting, true, but still delicious.”

“My pleasure, Adam.”

“Are you two done?” Matt stands glaring at us. “You know, we could use some help. Come on, you’re fed, now get your ass over here and help clean up. You too, Maddie. Get your mind out of his pants.”

Smart-ass. But he’s right. Together we straighten out the mess and get everything back to where it belongs, at least, where I think it belongs. Good enough anyway. We’re done cleaning up, but Dave seems to be looking for something.

“First things first,” he says, and picks up a hammer. “Where is it? Where did it go?” Sifting through toolboxes, he looks ready to bust some heads.

Matt starts toward Dave. “Leave that stuff alone.”

“Where is it?” Dave plunges a hand into Matt’s pocket.

“Back off!” Matt tries squirming free.

Dave pulls out a small plastic case. “Bet you put it in here.” He pops the case open and shakes it empty over a workbench. “There it is.” He raises the hammer.

“
No!
” Matt screams.

Parts bounce, some tumble off the edge. Dave pounds the countertop again.

Matt is devastated. “Why? I wanted to take it apart and see how the rest works.”

“You have enough gadgets to fool with. Sorry, Matt, I don’t feel like having the Association sneak up on us again.”

The tiny capsule I once carried in my skull is now a splatter of miniature parts.

“It had a tracking device?” I ask.

“Among other things,” Dave says. “How do you think we found you?”

“Thanks to Matt,” Madison says, and pats him on the back. “Nice job hacking the signal.”

“Right,” Dave says, and glares at Matt. “Except Mister Genius forgot to turn it off.”

Matt doesn’t look so proud now, staring at the smashed device, mangled beyond repair. All ties are severed, captivity a nest from which I have flown. The lifeline is broken, I am on my own. However, it is now clear—the enemy knows of my escape. Though one step closer, I am not yet free.

* * *

Dave opens the hatch and the small steps fold out, now cockeyed with the injured craft tilted at an angle. Morning sun sneaks over the horizon, bringing light to the surrounding forest. Down the steps, we turn around to view the craft, scarred by scrapes and dents across the battered hull, which is supported on hefty struts lacking any wheels, just flat metal pads in contact with the ground, sure to tear up any runway. But one of the struts is missing, leaving a corner to sag, and bulldoze a mound of loose soil where the craft burrowed on impact.

A high canopy of trees masks our location well, except our descent gouged a path through the timbers, and actually, we’re not hidden at all. For someone searching from above, the long clearing we carved out of the forest points right to us.

Dave and Matt step around the craft, gauging the damage.

Matt says, “Nice job, Adam. You really thought that one through.”

“Hey, they’re not chasing us anymore. Give me a break.”

Shaking his head, he walks away.

Crouched on his heels, Dave inspects the tangled metal where our missing strut belongs. “Aw, shit,” he gripes. “That’ll be a bitch to get back on. And where the hell is it anyway?”

I look to the long trail of flattened trees we left behind. “Must be back there somewhere.”

He stands and gazes into the distance. “Man, this sucks. Matt, figure out what else is busted and get it fixed.”

Halfway up the cockeyed steps, Matt turns back. “Yeah, right. I’ll just wave my magic wand and it’ll all be fixed. You’re a menace, Dave. Between you and Adam’s bright idea, she’s busted up pretty good this time. You’d better hope I can fix any of this.”

“Whatever, just do it. Maddie, pull out a jack and figure out how to get under there. We need this thing back up on four legs again. We’ll go find the landing pad.”

Dave waves for me to follow, and we begin a trek along the path of descent. The morning sun feels good, and getting out for a walk on a day without overcast is a rare treat. Not raining for once, and a nice temperature, with patches of blue coming through the clouds as flattened brush snaps underfoot. The crash site fades behind us, and in little time I’m breaking a sweat, just from walking. I’m really out of shape.

As we hike, Dave scans the distance. “We have to find that thing, this is bad.”

“Sorry, Dave, I didn’t mean to—”

“Not you. Don’t worry, you did great.”

“I did?”

“Sure, like always.” His big white grin stretches wide.

“Not great enough. Now we’re stuck here.”

“We’ll find it,” he says, forging ahead at a steady pace. “And we’ll fix it. We have to, or we’re—”

“Dead forever?”

He glances at me, and his pace slows. His gaze drops.

I stop to face him. “So what does it mean? What exactly is dead forever?”

“Like I told you, we don’t die. And the Association knows it.”

“They do?”

“Of course they do.” He points to the trail ahead, and we continue hiking. “They fully understand that killing the body does nothing to actually kill a person.”

“So why stick me in a furnace?”

“That’s just to dispose of your body.”

“Right, make me dead.”

“No, make your body dead, remember?”

“Okay, make my body dead. What about me?”

“Well that’s just it. If you’re asking the question, you don’t know the answer.”

“Right, I don’t. Why I’m asking.”

“You’re missing the point. You don’t know the answer, that’s what dead forever is all about. Not remembering what to do when the body is gone.”

“Okay, so what is it I’m not remembering?”

“To come back and get another. In some manner of awareness, not—”

“What are you talking about? We don’t get another body. We go to Heaven or Hell after that.”

Dave laughs so hard he has to stop and hold his belly. “Wow, they programmed you damn good.” He fights to calm whatever is so amusing. “You actually believe all that crap?”

“Well, I think so. Shouldn’t I?”

“Adam, that’s idiotic, just think about it. You have a body, then it gets old or has some accident. Okay, now it’s useless and you’re done with it, so you leave it behind and go someplace else, but only one choice out of two? Heaven or Hell? Of course, depending on how good or bad you are.”

“That’s the way I understand it.”

“Come on, that’s ridiculous.” A hand to my shoulder, he coaxes me along, and we get moving again. “Check it out, Adam. You have a choice of final destinations, one that promises eternal bliss, the other, everlasting misery. So basically, do right, you get pleasure, do wrong, you get pain. What does that tell you?”

“I better be good?”

“Right,” he says. “You had better, or
else.
Don’t you get it? It’s about control, keeping people in line.”

“You really think so?”

“No, I don’t think, I know. There’s a difference.”

“But knowing right from wrong is important. We can’t just do whatever we want.”

“Sure, but what is right and wrong? Either could be anything, that’s a matter of viewpoint. What’s right for one is wrong for another. And when the other wants their definition of right to be the ultimate rule, they use concepts like Heaven and Hell to do it.”

“Concepts? Are you saying Heaven and Hell don’t even exist?”

“I never said that. Sure, Heaven could exist, so could Hell, both could be plenty real, but more important is their source. Concept or not, who do you think created them?”