Star Road Page 17

  Annie glanced at Jordan.

  Then she approached Rodriguez.

  “You don’t look so good.”

  Rodriguez didn’t bother to turn to her. Instead, he kept staring out over the empty station below, littered with bodies and body parts.

  Then—uncharacteristically—he banged a fist on the railing and turned to Annie.

  “I can’t tell you,” he said, barely repressing his anger.

  Now Annie was alarmed.

  What did he just learn in there?

  “What do you mean?”

  “What I was told in there... is classified, Captain. By order of the World Council. I can only tell you once we reach Omega Nine. And even then—”

  He looked away.

  The man was sick with the knowledge ... with whatever this secret was ... and he had to hold it alone.

  “—and even then, after reviewing things ... only if the WC approves.”

  Annie was tempted to threaten the man.

  If he knew something that jeopardized her ship, this mission, the lives of the passengers, then she damned well better know, World Council or no World Council.

  But Omega Nine still lay some distance away.

  There’d be time to work on Rodriguez. Get him to talk.

  But not now. Not here.

  Jordan was looking over at them.

  Picking up on what’s happening here, maybe?

  Jordan came over and stood by her side without a word.

  Then: “Annie, we gotta get moving. Been here too long. I don’t—”

  A high-pitched tone came from the pod bay.

  A message scrawled across a holo screen floating above the bay.

  The words: DATA POD SUCCESSFULLY LAUNCHED.

  “What the—” She looked around. “Where’s Nahara?”

  Over in a distant corner, Nahara was sitting off to one side, his eyes wide.

  More damned secrets.

  “Nahara, did you just launch a pod?”

  Biting his lower lip, he shook his head.

  Too quickly.

  “Then who the hell did?” Jordan said as he walked over to the man, bringing his face close to the authority agent. “The corpses?”

  “I-I don’t know. Maybe it’s a station auto-update. Some of them— especially outpost stations—are programmed to do that.”

  “With all the files wiped?” Annie said.

  Nahara looked from Jordan to her, his eyes wide. Staring.

  “You know what I’d like to do, Annie?” Jordan said. “I’d like to—”

  But his words were cut off. A low, sick sound came from behind them.

  “Holy shit,” she whispered when she turned to see what Rodriguez was looking at.

  ~ * ~

  Ivan stared at the main terminal building and didn’t like the emptiness that surrounded it. The broken door window. Already signs of trouble.

  On the grounds and tarmac ... nobody at all. No ground crew. No mechanics. No baggage handlers.

  Too damn quiet.

  If everyone was inside the terminal... why?

  Might have been smarter to leave someone outside to watch the door. That’s what he would have done. Jordan should have known.

  So where were they? Inside, talking to the station manager? Finding out what was wrong here? Because something was most definitely wrong here.

  He held the pulse gun out in front of him, sweeping the area.

  A substantial weapon. Fully charged. And with a scope that would allow him—even a mile away—to hit a target with pinpoint accuracy.

  His gut told him he was going to need it.

  And now, with a gun in his hand, he vowed not to give it up so easily when Jordan and Annie Scott came back.

  He quickened his pace, heading to the main building.

  ~ * ~

  Annie looked down.

  Warrows.

  Dozens of them suddenly filled the corridor down below ... like rats spilling out of their hiding places.

  Sniffing the air, they looked around. Some sank their teeth into the corpses lying below.

  Biting ... chewing ... feasting and squabbling over the bloody remains.

  Annie stood stock still.

  Then: a quick look at Jordan, who also wasn’t moving. He was intently watching the creatures on the ground floor.

  “These ones look bigger than the others,” Annie said.

  And they were. The ones they had already fought and killed were—what? Maybe three to four meters, stretched out. These looked like they were more in the four- to six-meter range.

  “Those”—Jordan nodded at the massing creatures—”are the adults.”

  “What?”

  “They let the young ones lead the hunt. To get the experience. Then the adults take the spoils.”

  “Jesus. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Jordan sniffed and said, “I didn’t want you to worry.”

  He was silent for a moment. Thinking, probably, the same thing she was: We’re screwed.

  “They don’t know we’re up here,” Annie whispered.

  “Not yet.”

  “Options?”

  “Start shooting ... and let them know we’re here?”

  And have that horde, scores of warrows, direct their attention on them up here?

  As far as she knew, there was only one way up and one way down.

  The math was clear. They couldn’t do it. Not without losses.

  For every warrow they took out, there would be three or four more coming up behind, ready to tear them apart before they could take them all out.

  A moment of indecision.

  Rodriguez was still holding on to the railing, but his arms were shaking, wobbling like skinny tree limbs in a hurricane.

  Nahara was standing a short distance behind them. He was sniffing the air as if it had turned thin ... rancid.

  Annie didn’t like hesitating like this. They had to do something—and soon.

  But then the decision was taken out of her hands.

  ~ * ~

  From below, sudden snuffing and whimpering sounds.

  Jordan reacted first, probably guessing what was happening.

  Moving his gun up, arms extended. Annie followed suit.

  Rodriguez didn’t go for his gun. He looked helpless. Useless.

  She didn’t say anything. Keeping quiet in case they misread the situation.

  But then there came the sickening confirmation as a warrow leaped onto the balcony, claws grasping at the railing, legs scrambling to gain purchase on the wall.

  Within seconds, the first beast flipped itself over the railing and landed directly in front of Rodriguez.

  Then another warrow leaped up, scrambled, and landed to their left. Two more on their right.

  The warrows had them in a pincer.

  Jordan didn’t wait. He began firing before other ones landed.

  Annie yelled as she started blasting at them.

  “Guns! Nahara. Rodriguez. Shoot!”

  She barely took aim before firing at a warrow that came flying at her, teeth bared.

  The dead weight sent her smacking down to the floor. Black blood that smelled like shit covered her midsection, but the open mouth didn’t move.

  But the weight—so damned heavy.

  More blasts. Jordan shooting.

  Then, as she pushed the weight aside, the thing rolled off her.

  Jordan. Pulling it.

  Annie leaped to her feet.

  Four...five of them up here now.

  After the initial outburst, they were wary, now circling.

  Rodriguez had backed away, and two warrows had him cornered. The scientist held his gun limply in his hand, dangling uselessly at his side.

  Annie fired at the back of one, and a massive hole opened up at the top of its spine, spraying blood and bones against the wall.

  Rodriguez finally raised his gun
and fired, actually wounding the other warrow, who skittered on the floor, howling with pain and rage.

  But the shot wasn’t nearly well-aimed enough.

  Jordan spun around, crouched, and fired at it, then turned back to the railing. More were scrambling up and over the rails.

  “Over there,” Jordan shouted, pointing his muzzle behind her.

  Annie turned and shot in the direction of the dead escalator where a dozen or more warrows scrambled, scurried up. Big ones, hungry ... racing to the feast that awaited them.

  Four of them charged together, side by side, their claws skittering on the tile as others came together to form a V-shaped phalanx.

  She and Jordan were back to back, looking around, turning, firing as fast as they could as the circle of warrows tightened.

  “How’s your charge?” she asked.

  “Below fifty percent.”

  The numbers were overwhelming.

  Had to be only minutes—seconds—before the sheer weight of the surging beasts would break through the wall of pulse blasts and rip into them.

  “Steady. Aim,” Jordan said as he fired repeatedly, every shot wounding if not killing.

  He didn’t mean Annie, she knew. He was talking to the others. Encouraging them.

  “Make every shot count.”

  Annie fired as fast as she could, knowing that all the good aiming in the world wasn’t going to turn this tide.

  ~ * ~

  Ivan hurried into the building.

  He had heard screeches, blasts, weird ululating howls.

  Someone’s alive. Jordan, Annie... but maybe not for long.

  He raised the gun to shoulder-level as he raced into the main corridor of the building.

  Right into a line of huge animals ahead—

  Warrows. He recognized them from his time in the Janus System.

  They were running—surging—up the stairs.

  Scrambling over each other.

  Ready to swarm anyone who was up on that balcony, up near the offices where, Ivan guessed, the people from the SRV were trapped.

  ~ * ~

  21

  ESCAPE

  Ivan stopped.

  Before he took another step, he fired four quick blasts at the column of warrows, madly scrambling to get to the top of the dead escalator.

  Two shots sent the warrows at the head of the column tumbling backward, crushing the ones behind them. More blasts, and soon the room was filled with howls and screams.

  Wounded... and they don’t like it.

  But the shots achieved his real purpose.

  It drew the attention of the creatures, who halted their mad charge and turned to see where the shots were coming from. Their bloodlust was still high. They had been going in for the kill, but now there was new danger from below.

  The ones at the bottom of the dead escalator turned. Their snarls echoed in the empty hallway.

  Ivan stood out in the open, exposed.

  Easy prey.

  Eight or ten of the creatures climbed over the wounded and dead, moving swiftly toward Ivan.

  Sometimes, he thought, you get exactly what you wish for.

  He dropped to one knee and, with the warrows closing in, sucked in a deep breath, took careful aim at a spot between the eyes of the lead beast, and squeezed the trigger.

  As a black fountain of blood and brains exploded into the air, he had already taken two more shots.

  ~ * ~

  Annie backed up and bumped into Jordan, their backs touching, almost, she thought, as if we’re one person.

  So far, Annie and Jordan, backed by Nahara and Rodriguez, had been able to keep the creatures at bay.

  But for how long?

  But next to Jordan stood Rodriguez, who Annie could actually hear whimpering, moaning between the steady thump of the pulse blasts and the howling yelps of wounded warrows.

  She didn’t take a moment to look down at her gun to see how charged it was.

  It wasn’t a damn assault weapon. Not designed for a goddamned standoff.

  At least Nahara—next to her—seemed to be taking some kind of aim and shooting with a reasonable degree of accuracy.

  But then one warrow leaped in close and swiped at Nahara’s gun hand. His pulse gun flew from his grip as Jordan blew the creature’s face into a bloody mess.

  “Shit,” Nahara said.

  Right, thought Annie. Shit, indeed.

  Nahara responded by pressing himself tighter against the defenders, now with only two reliable shooters and Nahara, unarmed and exposed.

  Fruit ripe for the plucking.

  The steady punching sound of a pulse gun filled the air.

  There were more blasts coming from somewhere down below ... louder sounds, too.

  Not some puny pea shooter, not the handguns they had, but something much more powerful.

  More warrow screams echoed from down below. Wild snarls and thrashing sounds.

  Is this the cavalry arriving?

  Someone helping them. Someone who survived the initial onslaught? A security guard who had maybe been in hiding and who had come out now and was going to save them from this massacre?

  A nearby warrow swung its head toward her. Mouth wide. Teeth gleaming as it went for her arm.

  But Annie was able to tilt the gun in time so those jagged teeth met her gun barrel—and in that contact, with her finger pulling back on the trigger, the beast’s head disappeared.

  Buying seconds.

  Any real hope, she knew, was riding on their savior, down below.

  ~ * ~

  The last of the charging warrows fell inches away from Ivan, like a longdistance runner who simply couldn’t go the distance.

  No time to examine the things, since he could still see huge, dark shapes bobbing up and down on the balcony.

  He lowered the gun, and bolted.

  He made his way through the piles of bodies, most of them dead, but a few were writhing on the ground, some trying to turn their heads and catch him in their jaws as he raced by and up the escalator.

  To the top of the stairs.

  To see the four people from the SRV.

  And even as his gun came up, he wondered if he was in time to save them, because the creatures had them surrounded and were closing in, their jaws wide ... hungry for flesh and blood.

  ~ * ~

  Annie saw him through a break in the circle of creatures.

  Gage.

  Gun up.

  Shooting.

  A surge of hope, but at the same time wondering: How the hell did he get here... with a gun?

  Only seconds ago, she had accepted the hopelessness—the simple, dark, grim fact of their impending death.

  Now ... suddenly things looked different.

  But in that hopeful moment, one of the creatures leaped forward and pulled Nahara out of the protective huddle.

  Its claws closed on the man’s midsection.

  Nahara’s trapped body swiveled, his eyes wide, turning. His mouth was open; he was screaming, but no sound came out.

  He was being dragged away to where the warrows could feast in private.

  Annie spotted other beasts crouched down low, avoiding the gunfire and creeping up on them, using whatever cover they could find.

  But—a decision—she used her next shot to drill a smoking hole through the throat of the warrow that was about to eat Nahara.

  Its traplike jaws didn’t let him go.

  Maybe a reflex action, an instantaneous rigor mortis that kept the man held in its grip.

  Only then did Annie turn to shoot at the closest warrow who was crawling toward her.