Condemned (Death Planet Book 1) (7 page)

“Stop that,” Andy said.

She stared down at him and scowled. Pretty face, big tits, and curvy ass. He wouldn't mind a bit of that, and would be taking some if the others weren't around... and if Garry hadn't told them to keep hands off because she was heading for the King's harem. If he was that worried, he should bloody well have hung around to keep an eye on her himself, rather than rushing home with a dozen Guards to protect him.

Bang, bang, bang. Rob hammered the wheel back onto the axle. He checked the fit, and hammered a few more times. Then he nodded, and motioned for them to lower it.

Andy let it down gently. He couldn’t feel his fingers. Would he ever be able to feel them again when he let go? The wheel creaked under the weight, but took it. He relaxed some more. The weight lifted from his hands. He waited until he was sure the cart would stand on its own, then wriggled his fingers, and swung his arms to try to bring some circulation back.

“Thank fuck for that. Let’s get moving.”

Jacob walked past the hauler, to the side of the cart. He grabbed the seat to pull himself up, and put one foot on the step. Then he stared out into the night.

Something was rising slowly above the scrub. Something tall, furry, and covered with mud. Something with big claws, and dark, round eyes. It opened its mouth, and the moonlight glittered on long, sharp teeth. Like a bear. With tits.

“Evening, boys,” Brunhilde said. “How about you give me a lift to town?”

Andy glanced at the revolver on Rob’s belt. Why hadn’t they given him one, too? “Hop in the cage. We’ll take you all the way there.”

“No thanks. It doesn’t look very comfortable.”

He shrugged. “Sorry, nowhere else for passengers to sit.”

Brunhilde sighed. “I did ask nicely. Now I’ll be taking that cart.” She strode toward them. “And I don’t mind if I have to kill you for it. In fact, I’d be quite pleased to oblige.”

The closer she came to the cart, the larger she looked. She must be twice Andy's height, and twice his width. Shit.

Rob crouched by the wheel, staring at her. With ten years in the Guards, was supposed to be in charge. The only one with a pistol, and he wasn’t bloody using it.

Andy slapped his shoulder. “Give me the gun.”

Rob just stared at him. Andy pushed him to the ground, then reached to Rob’s belt, grabbed the revolver, and pulled it free. He swung it toward Brunhilde. She yelled as she saw it, then her feet pumped the ground as she accelerated toward him.

Andy pulled the trigger. The hammer clicked down, and the priming powder fizzed. Brunhilde dodged left just before the main charge fired. The gun boomed as it bucked in his hand. The flash filled the world with light, and left a white glow in his eyes. It faded just in time to see Brunhilde racing for him. Then he fell back against the cart as Rob jumped to his feet, trying to get out of the way of the oncoming beast, and slammed against Andy’s side.

Andy’s feet slid on the mud, and his hand flailed, trying to grab the side of the cart. He raised the other hand to point the gun for a second shot, and pulled back the hammer with his thumb. Brunhilde was less than two metres away. He could hardly miss.

He pulled the trigger. As the hammer fell, a wisp of smoke rose from the burning powder, then his body jerked back as something tightened around his neck. His hand swung, and the gun boomed again. Rob screamed as the bullet slammed into his shoulder, and he went flying across the track.

Andy gasped for breath. He reached for his neck, and looked up. The caged girl stared down at him with a wide grin, her arms out of the bars, and her hands wrapped around his neck, trying to crush his windpipe. He grabbed one hand, forced his fingers past hers, and tried to pull it free. His vision was turning red, and his strength fading. He raised his other hand, pushed the gun past his head, and squeezed the trigger.

Rob moaned on the ground. The hauler’s feet tapped on the rock as Joseph grabbed the reins. Brunhilde’s furry body flashed past Andy as she jumped toward the cart. Mac stepped in the way, and bones crunched as her shoulder slammed into his chest, knocking him back against the side of the cart. It shook with the impact, and the hauler reared up against the yoke. Mac groaned briefly, before Brunhilde tossed him aside. He twisted on the ground, his right arm bent at an unnatural angle, with a long, white, needle of bone bursting from his elbow. His other hand grabbed her ankle, and tried to pull it out from under her.

The boom of the revolver left Andy’s ear buzzing, but the pressure on his neck relaxed as the girl pulled one of her hands away. Had he hit her? Oh, crap, he’d be in the shit for that. He turned his head, just in time to see her hand grab the cylinder of the revolver. He tried to twist it away, but her other hand punched him in the face. He turned back toward her, then the cart lurched forward. He twisted in her grip, and the next punch smacked into his ear instead of his nose.

Brunhilde glanced toward him as she kicked Mac in the face, and his skull crunched. The girl grabbed Andy's nose, then twisted hard until he squealed with pain, and relaxed his grip on the gun. She pulled it away from his hand, and he tried to grab it before she could turn it toward him. Instead, he found himself staring down the dark muzzle, just as many people had stared down the muzzle of his gun back home. She cocked it and pulled the trigger, and he dodged aside. The gun boomed, and the bullet smacked into the dirt.

“Move, you bastard,” Joseph yelled as he flicked the reins. He grabbed the whip from beside the seat, and cracked it on the hauler's back. It grunted, and pulled away just as Andy grabbed for the girl's arm. He slipped, and fell to his knees as the cart moved on. Brunhilde grabbed the side of the cart, and pulled herself up. Andy grabbed the tail board at the rear, and tried to stand, but something caught his ankle.

“Get the fuck away,” Joseph yelled as Brunhilde grabbed him, and the whip cracked as he flicked it at her. The hauler lunged forward against its yoke, and the cart accelerated. Andy’s ankle jerked out from beneath him, and he tumbled to the ground.

D
aniel crouched behind Guy, and peered over his shoulder. Orange and white cloth, almost grey in the dim moonlight, fluttered in the trees ahead. A bulbous orange blob balanced precariously on a pile of smashed tree trunks behind it.

Another pod.

Guy's drone buzzed through the trees, dodged between the lines attaching the parachute to the pod, and hovered above it.

“It’s OK,” Guy said, then stood and walked on.

“What is it?”

“Take a look.”

Guy leaned against a tree and slid a long roll-up cigarette into his mouth. He pulled a cylinder from his jacket and pressed a button on the side, next to some exposed red wires. Flame rose from the top, and he used it to light the cigarette.

“What is that?” Daniel said.

“Lighter. Nerds make all kinds of shit from the crap in the pods. Not to mention the emergency supplies they send, real food from home. That’s why smart hunters are more interested in the pods than the newbies that come out of them.”

Daniel crept toward the pod. The parachute lines hung from the smashed branches of the nearby trees, and he pushed them aside as he climbed through them. He glanced back. How could Guy really be sure the inhabitant of the pod wasn’t around?

“Go on,” Guy said, and waved him on.

Daniel clambered on a nearby tree trunk, and pulled himself up the side of the pod until he could see inside. The seat was torn, the foam padding exposed, and pieces scattered around the interior. Loose wires burst from panels in the side of the pod.

And a skeleton lay beneath the straps that had once held a sleeping prisoner in place, among rags that were once their suit.

The bones were scratched, as though something small and sharp had scraped against them. Only a few tiny scraps of flesh remained, and the wires and chips of a skulltop computer were exposed on top of the skull, inside the helmet. The eye sockets were open and empty, as though something had gnawed through them to what lay inside.

Daniel’s stomach twisted again, and he jumped down and strode away. He’d seen more than he ever wanted to.

“What happened?”

“Rat got in, most likely. They do sometimes, then they’re stuck for months until the pod lands. The good news is that whoever was in there was asleep the whole time, and didn’t even notice they were getting eaten alive for weeks.” He puffed on the roll-up. “'Course, some sick fuck's probably gonna get off on the recording of it happening.”

“Don’t they check for rats before they seal the pods?”

Guy shrugged. “What does it matter? We’re all Condemned anyway. They just got theirs early.” He leaned over the edge of the pod and studied the skeleton. “Looks like a girl, so you could say she got lucky.”

Erica.

Daniel's heart triggered as he stared at the skeleton. Could it be? How would he even tell? Was she that tall? No, her head only came up to Daniel's shoulder. His heart slowed. Whoever had been in there, she was taller than that. And the hair darker.

Guy pushed on through the bushes, then crouched between them. They were at the edge of the wood now, and two moons glowed in a cloudless sky full of stars. The scrubland ahead of them sloped gently down toward a river that glittered in the moonlight. Guy pointed that way.

“Kingston’s over the bridge, then a few klicks up the river. The mines ship ore down the river, and the slave market ships slaves up to the mines, and out along the coast. Boats are a lot safer than carts, so long as you avoid the pirates.” He grabbed Daniel’s arm, then pointed into the sky. “Hey, look at that.”

A bright dot crossed the sky and passed the largest moon, then slowly sank down toward the mountains.

“There you are. That’s your ship.”

“How do you know?”

“No-one else comes here, and the automatic defence stations would blow them out of the sky if they did. They don’t want anyone coming out here to rescue their friends. This year’s ship will be collecting the last year of recordings from the satellites, to take back home for the commissars to watch.”

“I’m going home, somehow. I shouldn’t be here.”

“What, you’re going to build a rocket to get you off this place, then a warp drive to get you home? Or capture the next gulag ship, and fly it back? All of that, while the commissars watch everything you do?”

“If it’s a year between ships, that’s a year to get ready, before they know anything. Longer, really, when the ship will take months to return the recordings before anyone can watch.”

Guy laughed as his eyes scanned the area beyond the woods. “Damn, kid, I’m glad I found you. This is the funniest trip I’ve had in years.”

“I just want to go home.”

Back to his comrades, in their barracks at EdCamp. A safe space with no worries about being murdered, or worse, if he turned his back on the wrong man. Real food to eat. He'd obey PubSafe, stop complaining about the World State, graduate, and do what he was told for the rest of his life.

“Kid, you're here for good. You can deal with it, or you can spend your time pining for home until you're ready to just give up and let the next hunter catch you, and eat you.”

He would never do that. He’d find a way to escape. Or, if that failed, find a way to make a good life with good people. If they Condemned him for protesting, there must be others.

“Where are we going?”

Guy pointed toward a dark line running across the scrub, toward the sea. “No more woods from here to the river. That’s what passes for the road to Kingston. Much easier to walk that way than trudge through the scrub. Just keep an eye out for bandits, and get off the road, and in the mud, if anything comes by. If they catch you, you’re on your own.”

“You’ve got guns.”

Guy tapped the revolver on his hip. “Between this and the rifle, I’ve got seven bullets. Then they take about six months to reload. I might have saved you back there, but there are a lot more than seven hunters and slavers between us and the city.”

He stood and strolled across the scrub, still scanning the area as he moved. Daniel stared at the road, his eyes tracing its path from river to sky, then back again. Nothing was moving. He followed, feeling extremely exposed on the open plain, away from the trees. If anyone was out there, he’d be easy to see, even in his new clothes.

“What did you mean earlier, about shinies?”

Guy reached into his belt pouch, and pulled out a rough disk that glittered in the moonlight. He tossed it toward Daniel, who caught it and flipped it over in his hands. Some bumps were bashed into the surface. Triangles in a circle on one side, and some worn-down, undecipherable words on the other.

“What is this?”

“Some shiny thing. We use them like Energy Credits back home. Silver and gold, they say, but I always thought that was just colours. The King dug some out of the mountains after the first landing, then he convinced some that trading for shiny things was better than fighting over the women. Course, that was after he killed most of the men who disagreed.”

“It just grows in the ground?”

“I figure it did back home, too. Just been no-one here to dig it up before us.”

“Then why don't we just dig some up?”

“Because some of the toughest of the King's Guards patrol the mountains. They’d catch us, and kill us. Horribly.”

Daniel flipped the silver shiny over in his hands. Should he keep it? It belonged to Guy, who had guns, a knife, and battle scars. So probably not. He handed it back.

Guy trudged through the mud toward the road, hopping over deep puddles where the rain had accumulated in pits. Daniel followed, looking up at the stars. One of them was home... maybe not one on this side of the planet right now, but one star somewhere up there. How was his barracks doing, with one comrade imprisoned, and another Condemned? It had been a lousy year for them, too.

What was Erica thinking? Did she miss him? Probably not half as much as he missed her. If he thought about her again, and about how he would never, ever see her unless he did find a way back, he was only going to trigger himself. Better to just think of nice things, and try to forget.