Gyaros Book One: The Mice Eat Iron (YA 17+ Sci Fi Adventure) (19 page)

“You-you want me to kill people?”
he asked, shaking uncontrollably.

“Not if you ain't up for it, just go along with Jasper and help out, keep watch, do a little heavy lifting.” Miles could hardly think properly but he knew that Gideon would most likely kill him without hesitation if he refused the job
. ‘That’s what the hand was! And that’s what I’ve been eating!’ At this realisation he once again threw up into the sink. Gideon waited patiently for Miles to regain his composure.

“I-I'll do it
,” he agreed reluctantly, wiping his mouth. Unable to think of any possible alternative that involved staying alive, he agreed.

“That's what I wanted to hear
Miles!” said Gideon with a big greasy grin, bringing his hand down hard on Miles’ shoulder, “you'll be going out on a raid with Jasper tomorrow. He wasn't able to bring back the bodies today for obvious reasons and we’ve got nothing to serve unless you boys go out and catch us some meat.”

There was nothing Miles could do now but accept
the reality of his situation, if he had any desire to remain alive for the foreseeable future, and do exactly what Gideon said. He really thought he had a nice little thing going here with the Ransoms but just as Miles was settling in, the rug was once again pulled from under him. ‘Oh God Maxen, why’d you have to go and die on me?’

Miles didn't sleep at all that night, instead he laid awake in his sleeping bag on the hard scullery floor, next to the now dried puddle of Emmet's blood, terrified of what was going to happen the next day. He considered making a run for it, the Ransoms were most likely asleep and Miles could quite easily slip outside unnoticed, but then what? Without money, without food, without a vehicle, well he was as good as dead. In the end, working with Gideon and Jasper was still his best chance at survival for now. Besides, Gideon promised Miles good pay for his assistance and Miles would definitely need money if he were to have any chance of getting to New Fortune. As well as that, Gideon promised that he did not even need to kill anyone. ‘Maybe this’ll be ok, I’ve seen plenty of people killed over the past few days, maybe it won’t be too bad,’ Miles tried to reassure himself.

As the sky began to brighten and the alien birdsong filtered through the open window, Miles could hear what sounded like Gideon getting dressed in his quarters. Before long, the door to the scullery opened with a loud creak and Gideon entered the room.

“Rise and shine, boy. It's time to head out!
If my customers don’t eat, well neither do we,” he said, squatting down next to Miles who was wide awake with dark heavy bags under his eyes from his sleepless night. Miles sat up to look at the clock above the sink. It was only 5:03.

“Ya best leave nice 'n' early so ya can get back before opening time.” Miles
began to climb out of the dirty old sleeping bag as Gideon left, presumably to wake Jasper.

This was it, Miles wasn't sure exactly what the raid was going to involve but there was no turning back now, he simply tried his best to remain calm
while his stomach churned and span as the fear yet again set in. ‘This is it. I’m going out to help hunt humans for meat. Why? Why did this have to happen to me? Why couldn’t I just play it safe in the Yellow Districts?!’ After a few minutes Miles heard the loud rattle of a poorly maintained engine starting up. He made his way outside like a condemned prisoner walking to his death, to the death of his life as a basically ethical person. He saw Jasper in the driver's seat of the pickup truck. “C'mon Miles!” he shouted, leaning over to open the passenger side door. Miles nervously walked to the truck and climbed inside. Wasting no time, Jasper put his foot on the gas pedal and the wheels began to turn, kicking up a large cloud of dust and taking the vehicle on its way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 1
4

As the rusty old pickup truck sped down the far stretching dirt road, the last buildings of The Dustbowl had all but disappeared over the horizon from the rear view mirror.

Thoughts raced through Miles' head as he sat terrified in the passenger seat. 'There's no way this is real. This
can't be
fucking real! I’ve never hunted people before. I’ve never hunted
anything
before!'

Jasper had a calm and
sorrowful look on his face as the two drove through the desert.

“So
,” said Jasper, “you never killed someone before?” Miles tried to shake his head but his whole body was frozen with fear. “Thought not, ya didn't strike me as the type,” Jasper chuckled and continued, “don't worry though, Pa said ya don't have to kill no one if you don't want to. You just keep a lookout and yell if ya see trouble.” Miles took a deep breath and tried to collect himself.

This
was
real, and if he wanted to survive one more day on Gyaros, he needed to stay focused.

“How much further?”
asked Miles nervously.

“Not too far now
,” replied Jasper, “there's a small shack on the side of the road with a couple livin' there, far as I know they ain't got no weapons so this should be an easy one. The bastards yesterday were packin’ shotguns and I fucked up Miles, I let my guard down and they got my brother, God damn it,” Jasper said, slamming his fist down on the steering wheel and grinding his teeth angrily. He put on a brave face but it was clear that Jasper was hurting deep inside from the loss of his brother.

Neither of them spoke another word as Miles stared out into the barren wasteland littered with the bones of mutated animals and the occasional husk of a destroyed vehicle. Amidst the murder, rape, destruction and general insanity, Gyaros
could be a peaceful place at times. Ironically Miles couldn't remember ever having had so much time to think in Elissa without being pushed into an overcrowded monorail carriage or rushed to a meeting. And though he was slightly embarrassed to admit it, Miles often fantasized about living the life of Dan Steele, cruising through the deserts of Gyaros on a roaring motorcycle with the wind in his hair, blasting bad guys away with his double barrel shotgun and rescuing beautiful maidens; all part of a day's work. But as the figure of a small broken down shack appeared through the thick dust in the distance, Miles' heart sank and he was quickly snapped back to reality. This is the
real
Gyaros, not the comic book fairy-tale that's been topping the Visor Vision charts for the past 3 years, and Miles was no Dan Steele, he was just plain old Miles Stanton, a hard working model citizen of Carthage who just two weeks ago had a secure job and a picture perfect family to set him apart from the criminals and scum of the great red moon. But after today would he still be able to distinguish himself from the psychopathic killers of Gyaros? This was what terrified him the most. ‘I’m not like these people, I can’t be!’

“Here we are brother!” Jasper's voice pierced through the steady sound of the running motor as they approached their destination. “Now like I told ya, just leave the killin' to me
,” he continued as he brought the truck to a stop about forty feet from the shack and began to exit the vehicle.

“Just wait right here and be ready to help load these bastards up
,” Miles nodded sheepishly as Jasper quietly approached the makeshift home built out of the remains of an old Talos shuttle. As Jasper reached the door, he slowly drew his revolver from the holster on his right hip. He glanced back at Miles as if checking to make sure he was still in the truck, and then let out a loud grunt as he forcefully kicked in the flimsy steel door. Miles' heart was nearly beating out of his chest as he watched Jasper run into the shack. Screams of horror echoed through the still and silent desert followed by a loud BANG! Seconds later, the front door burst open again as a young woman came running out screaming, her torn white dress covered in blood, presumably not her own as she seemed more than capable of sprinting across the sandy wasteland.

“Get back here you fuckin' bitch!” Miles heard Jasper yell as he came running out behind her also drenched in blood
and painfully holding his crotch. The woman ran towards the truck where Miles sat.

“Please you’ve got to save me,
PLEASE!” she screamed as she approached the truck, “please, please don’t kill me mister,” the blood soaked young woman sobbed, her dark brown eyes filled with fear. Miles looked on in horror, his face twisted in disgust at what was occurring right in front of him. Then Jasper raised his gun, there was another BANG and the passenger window turned a sickly shade of dark red. The screaming came to a sudden stop, and there was total silence. Blood and small fragments of bone trickled down the glass in front of Miles as he sat there trembling in his seat. After a few seconds, Jasper appeared at the window, wiping the blood away with his arm and gesturing for Miles to exit the cab.

“Well don't just sit there! Help me bag 'em up!” Miles took a moment to breathe and attempted to calm himself before opening the truck door and stepping outside
, his mind completely blank. He fought the urge to throw up as he saw the lifeless body of the woman on the ground, blood was quickly pooling around her and she had a large hole through the centre of her chest.

“You take care o' her, I'll get the other one!”
shouted Jasper as he ran back to the shack, holstering his weapon. Miles took a couple of deep breaths and swallowed hard, he made his way around the truck, carefully trying not to step in the blood that covered the red desert sand and took one of the large burlap sacks from the back of the pickup. Miles closed his eyes and began to contemplate exactly how to go about this. ‘Oh God, I can’t do this…’ After several seconds of stalling, Miles knelt down beside the body, held his breath, scrunched up his face and lifted the girl's feet into the sack. He exhaled and took another deep breath before beginning to slide the large bag up the rest of her lifeless body. As he pulled the sack over the dead woman’s wound, he could no longer restrain his urge to be sick and stopped for a moment to rush behind the truck and throw up. ‘Pull it together for fuck’s sake Miles!’ He finished being sick and, after regaining his composure, tied the sack closed with some rope and attempted to lift the body onto the truck. His arms were weak and he could barely even stand, he closed his eyes again, thought to himself, 'just fucking do it, Miles!' and lifted the bag with all his strength. The pickup shook from the impact as Miles threw the girl onto the bed of the truck before collapsing on the blood soaked ground of the wasteland. He looked up to the clear blue sky as he laid there exhausted, breathing heavily with a still rapidly beating heart. There was his true home, floating five hundred and fifty thousand kilometres away. The beautiful blue planet of Carthage,
that
was where he belonged, typing at a desk for eight hours a day where his biggest fear was that the coffee machine might break down again, or one of Tyler’s pranks. Ah Tyler, how silly and trivial a concern he now seemed compared to the challenges of Gyaros. It was so simple back then, you just follow the rules, go to work, pay your taxes and the Areopagus takes care of the rest, the path is clearly laid out for you since the time you're born till the day you die and all you have to do is walk that line. But Miles' path was different, it hadn't lead him to the big retirement pension or the house by a lake he'd always dreamed of. It lead him to the middle of a scolding lunar desert, drenched with the blood of an innocent woman who he had just shoved into a bag and slammed onto the back of a pickup truck. A woman, a human being, who would be used to feed the citizens of The Dustbowl, to feed Miles himself! Miles gagged at the thought but quickly recovered as Jasper returned, dragging the other body by the legs, a man this time, slightly overweight with a thick trail of blood following behind him as he was pulled through the dust. As they came closer Miles could see that much of the man's face was missing and blood was pouring from the area around his exposed brain.

“Hey Miles, gimme' a hand
with this fat son of a bitch!” shouted Jasper.  Miles forced himself to his feet and reluctantly assisted Jasper with the second corpse. After both bodies were bagged and loaded onto the pickup, Jasper threw a large green tarp over the two bloody sacks and returned casually to the driver's seat. The engine started up with a loud rattling sound and the wheels began to roll, leaving behind the gruesome murder scene. Miles' heart was still racing as he and Jasper drove back down the rough dirt road to The Dustbowl. His extremities were numb, it felt as though he were somehow floating just outside his body, witnessing everything from a third person perspective. The blood on Miles' window had turned a brownish-red and had hardened slightly, he tried not to look at it, staring straight ahead into the distance.

“Ya have fun?” Jasper
finally said after several minutes of silence, apparently enjoying the distraction from the events of yesterday. Miles thought about the question, '
fun
? How on Carthage could anyone have fun doing this?! How could anyone have fun doing
anything
on Gyaros?' Unable to speak, Miles just closed his eyes and shook his head.

“Well don't you worry
,” said Jasper with a disturbing grin, “you'll get used to it soon enough.” Jasper turned his head to Miles, “you'll always remember yer first time,” he added with a chuckle. Miles couldn't argue with that, no matter how hard he tried, he knew he would never be able to forget the past few hours.