Burden of Sisyphus (39 page)

           
Members of the team, who appeared virtually indestructible, were killed by the monsters stalking his group.
 
It was easier, he found, to sink deeper into a dark depression than to hope for salvation.
 

           
Once more, he sat in a room, hoping a savior would appear to snatch them from death.
 
It wasn’t the first time he sat in such a situation, awaiting rescue.
 
In every other instance, however, Halo was there to save him and his team.
 
Her rescues were unerring, and Vance excelled in covert operations because of her help.

           
Halo was gone.
 
His team was scattered and mostly dead, and he was forced to rely on the salvation of a stranger, someone he never met, and, to be honest, wasn’t even sure was in space with a rescue ship.
 
He had to admit there was a good chance no savior would come.
 
There was a distinct possibility that, after barely slipping through death’s fingers so many times before, that he might finally die.

           
Vance couldn't argue with the luck he had during his career.
 
Many of the awards pinned on his dress uniform came from surviving situations that seemed beyond hope.
 
In all those cases, he hadn’t survived because he feared death.
 
He welcomed death’s embrace.

           
That time was different.
 
Dying meant sacrificing the lives of those who relied on him.
 
In that city, he already let over one hundred soldiers die while serving under his command.
 
He refused to believe there would be no salvation, that the men with him, who already survived so much, would die alone and forgotten.

           
Vance wouldn’t allow that to happen.
 
Somehow, some way, he would find a solution.
 
Thus far, he realized he’d been playing the role of hero.
 
Heroes didn’t die alone on a planet and let down those who depended on them.
 
They found solutions.
 
They were granted one last chance, a final option through which they could escape.

           
He needed that option.
 
He needed a ship to respond.

           
“I’m getting something on the screen,” Yen said, breaking Vance from his reverie.
 
“Sir, it’s a ship, but you won’t believe where!”

           
“Out with it!” Vance ordered.

           
“It’s here, in the city, not even four blocks from where we are.”

           
“Captain,” the communications officer onboard the
Goliath
said, “we’re picking up a distress signal.”

           
“From where?”
 
Captain Young sat forward on his chair on the bridge.

           
“From Purseus II, Sir.”

           
“Give me a visual.”
 
His display revealed flickering lines of text, which his eyes quickly followed.
 
He smiled appreciatively and muttered, “What’s your game, Vance?
 
What are you trying to do?”

           
He looked up from his console.
 
“Helmsman, slow our exit from the system.
 
Come to a complete stop and bring us into orbit around one of the nearby gas giants.
 
I want to be available should those soldiers find a way off planet.”

           
“Roger, Sir,” the navigator said.
 
“Coming to full stop.”

           
“”All right, Michael,” the captain said softly.
 
“Let’s see what you’re capable of.”

           
“It’s a
Cair
ship, Sir,” Yen said, as schematics on the responding ship flooded over his screen.
 
“It’s being stored in one of the warehouses on the compound, straight out the easternmost door.
 
It looks like it was powered down, but once it detected our distress call, it started powering its main system.”

           
“Is it space-worthy?”
 
Vance wouldn’t leave the safety of the compound unless he was absolutely sure of his escape.

           
“Readings say….”
 
Yen studied the ship’s plans.
 
“She’ll fly, Sir.
 
She looks intact.”

           
The men in the room cheered, while Vance smiled.
 
Only Eza remained somber.

           
“Sir, need I remind you we’re talking about covering four city blocks while we’re exposed?” Eza asked.
 
“We’re also losing daylight fast.
 
If we don’t move soon, it won’t matter if we have a ship.”

           
Nodding, Vance turned to Yen one last time.
 
“What’s the designation of our savior ship?”

           
“The
Cair Ilmun.”

           
“That’s the best name I’ve heard in a long time.
 
Destroy all the computers before joining us at the side door.
 
We leave nothing behind for others to find.”
 
As he walked from the room, he called out orders.
 
“Get your things together and get ready to move.
 
We have a ship and are getting off this planet.
 
If you drag ass, we’ll leave you behind.”

           
Exuberance filled the outpost, as the survivors scrambled to pull together basic necessities, checking their remaining ammunition and grabbing small amounts of food before hurrying to the side door.

           
A pair of soldiers beat Vance to the door and fired up a blowtorch.
 
Blue flame leaped from the end of the torch, cutting into the recently sealed door.
 
Metal dripped to the floor like wax, and sparks fell on the workingmen in sheets.
 
They continued working, cutting through the multiple fused spots around the doorframe, while the others watched impatiently.

           
Eza stood near a window, staring across the darkening landscape.
 
Vance joined him at a break in the window’s protective covering to admire the setting sun.

           
“I hope this is the last sunset we see on this planet,” Vance said softly, watching fading light glisten off windowpanes on the skyscrapers.

           
“We’re losing light too fast.”
 
Eza was worried.
 
“We were attacked at night the last time.
 
There’s no reason they won’t hit us again once it’s dark enough.”

           
The smile faded from Vance’s lips.
 
“How dark is dark enough?”

           
“I don’t know, but I don’t like cutting it close when my life is on the line.”

           
Decker and Yen walked up behind the pair.
 
Decker cleared his throat politely to get their attention.

           
“The consoles are destroyed,” Decker said.
 
“I don’t know if Seques can read computer files, but they won’t have the option.”

           
“Good,” Vance said.
 
“They’ve finished cutting through the door.
 
I wish there was easy access from the front door, since we left that one unblocked.
 
Once we get through, I’ll need all of your support.”

           
Eza pulled his ax free and tested its weight.
 
After being cooped up for so long, he yearned for activity.
 
“Just let us know what you need us to do.”

           
“Decker and Yen,” Vance said, pointing at them.
 
“You know where the building is.
 
I want you two in the lead.
 
Head straight for the warehouse and don’t deviate.”

           
“Roger, Sir.”

           
The glow from the red light mixed with the flashes of sparks, revealing stern looks of dedication on their faces.

           
“Eza, you and I will take the rear to keep everyone moving.”

           
“And…?”

           
“And be ready in case we encounter trouble.
 
I’m one of our best shots, and you were always our best fighter.
 
I’m counting on you.”

           
“I won’t let you down.”
 
Eza extended his hand.

           
Vance shook it firmly.
 
Before he could release it, Yen laid his hand on theirs, followed by Decker.
 
The four looked at each other, nodding solemnly.

           
“Good luck, Gentlemen,” Vance said.
 

           
The door behind them fell open with a crash.
 
Smoke rose from the edges where the torch cut through.

           
“Let’s move,” Vance said.

           
The half-dozen soldiers ran through the doorway ahead of Yen, Decker, Vance, and Eza, their weapons aimed at the darkening grassy field beyond.
 
No concrete had been poured for walkways through that area, leaving the grass unscathed save for where the Seques trampled a muddy ring around the building the previous night.
 
Weak light glowed warmly over the field, illuminating a distant row of warehouses.
 
Their nondescript exteriors betrayed nothing of the blessed ship stored within one of them.

           
Yen and Decker moved to the front of the group, as the infantry soldiers created a protective perimeter.
 
Straining to see in the failing daylight, Yen counted three buildings over from the left and marked their destination before setting off across the field.
 
They slogged hurriedly through tacky mud that pulled at their boots.
 
Lifting their legs high to break free of the glutinous brown mud, they finally reached virgin grass and picked up their pace, almost running, as they headed across the flat ground toward the warehouses.

           
Vance glanced nervously over his shoulder, taking in the ghostly, quiet city and the three-quarter sun, as it set over the horizon.
 
Its bottom edge disappeared, stealing a sliver of sunlight and dropping the temperature.
 
Vance shivered, not entirely from the cold, as the sun’s rapid descent continued.

           
Yen led the group around minor obstacles like jutting rocks and unseen holes, choosing to remain on clear, even ground.
 
The soldiers, laboring and tired but pushing forward, smiled, as the warehouses neared.
 

           
As they dodged a second outcropping of rock, the ground beside them exploded upward.

           
A flimsy tarp, draped with dirt and sod to make it invisible, was thrown skyward, revealing the sloping mouth of a tunnel.
 
A massive Seque hand emerged, closing around the leg of a nearby soldier and jerking him from his feet.
 
He fired wildly, most of the rounds going upward, as his hip gave way with a sickening pop.

           
When the Seque pulled him toward the hole, the soldier rolled onto his stomach and clawed at the ground while screaming for help.
 
The survivors fired repeatedly at the Seque but couldn’t stop it.
 
With a final scream, the soldier disappeared into the dark hole, and his screams faded into silence.