The Exiled Earthborn (22 page)

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Authors: Paul Tassi

Tags: #Fiction, #Science Fiction, #Action & Adventure, #Space Opera, #Apocalyptic & Post-Apocalyptic, #Alien Contact

BOOK: The Exiled Earthborn
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Alpha. Surely he had the coordinates to find Zeta. Had he survived the crash, Lucas was sure he would have made his way to her and was probably already devising a plan to rescue the rest of them. That’s the sort of thing he excelled at. Perhaps he was in the next clearing. Maybe the next one.

Maybe the next one.

But as he pressed onward, Lucas found no rescuers, nor pursuers. He did stumble upon a plasma cannon mount torn off the Spear and another dead Soran body, this one skewered in the branches about twenty feet in the air. After a short climb, he found it was another unrecognizable face. The corpse was a man this time, with a shaved head and long limbs. Lucas left him on his perch and turned to leave with no nearby cryochamber to salvage supplies from. A dark thought occurred to him. Could he possibly have been the only one who survived the crash?

Lucas stopped as he heard a distinct crack in the forest. Then another. And another.

He’d heard similar noises from the brush before, but this was different. These were footsteps. He scrambled up a tree across from where the dead man hung and hid behind the foliage. He minimized his breathing and lowered his heart rate as much as he was able, which was exceptionally difficult when he saw what was below him.

A squad of five Xalans moved through the jungle and into the small clearing where he’d just been standing. All wore light armor and held energy rifles, but one had a display hovering in front of him projected from his wrist. Lucas was too far away to read the symbols, but looking through Natalie’s scope he saw something he recognized immediately. A heartbeat monitor, beating to the tune of his own pulse. He readied his rifle as the creatures began looking around the forest.

One raised his head and let out a loud roar. He pointed at the body in the tree, and the rest of his squad turned to look in the direction of his finger. The creature tapped the heartbeat display and then motioned up at the carcass.

They think he’s still alive.

The squad found a way to quickly test their theory. Taking aim, they shot out the branches holding the man up with three quick bursts that caused a flutter of leathery winged creatures to fly up and out of the tree. The corpse cascaded awkwardly down the remaining branches and landed on the forest floor with a dull thud. The Xalans quickly ran up to it, guns at the ready, but the lead creature soon started shaking his head and growling as he stood over the obviously dead body. He pointed at the monitor, which was still pulsing with a live heartbeat.

So much for that.

The squad quickly realized the implication of the discovery, that another Soran lurked nearby, and started to fan out around the clearing. A few looked up and started to scour the trees, and fiddled with the scopes on their rifles.

Thermal.

Lucas couldn’t remain hidden for more than another few seconds. He’d only have one shot at this.

The first creature didn’t hear the piercing round that went directly through his skull, but the rest of his squad did. As they turned to look at their fallen comrade, Lucas was halfway to the ground. He used the creature twenty feet below to break his fall. They both hit the ground and became a tangled mess of limbs. Lucas ignored the sharp pain in his right leg and jabbed his survival knife into each of the creature’s eyes. The blinded Xalan let out a painful howl as Lucas extracted himself from his lanky form. He got off a spray of rounds that tore into a third creature still reacting to the initial shot. Before his corpse even hit the ground, Lucas rolled away behind a nearby stump, which was fortunately about six feet in diameter and provided ample cover. Plasma rounds from the two intact creatures splintered the wood all around him and he stayed as low as he was able, sliding into the muck. He could still hear the cries of the injured Xalan, now forced into combat without eyes.

Lucas looked at the pooling water around the stump, which still hadn’t receded from the downpour the night before. It gave him a reflected view that showed the two creatures were splitting up, working their way around each side of his barricade. They growled at each other in low tones, a contrast to the high-pitched squeals of their wounded counterpart.

Formulating a plan of attack in a split second like Guardian training had taught him, he whipped out to the left of the stump and cut the first creature in half with Natalie’s area-of-effect “carnage” setting. The other Xalan opened fire and one of the shots tore across Lucas’s arm, blackening his skin and making him cry out in agony. He unloaded another shotgun blast. At range, the particles spread out and merely peppered the creature. Still, it was enough to burn, and the creature flailed around with holes spattered across his chest armor and exposed arm and neck. Apparently it was too hot for a full bodysuit out in the jungle.

The creature staggered backward, still clutching his gun. Lucas flipped Natalie back into full-auto mode and marched forward, sending a spray of rounds his way that brought him first to his knees, then flat on his face. Smoke rose from the exit wounds as Lucas reached him.

Nearby, the blinded Xalan had finally located his gun. Lucas walked over to him and kicked the rifle out of his hand, and the creature let out a desperate cry. His wrist display still showed the heartbeat monitor, and the pulse was beating exceptionally fast now as Lucas was surging with adrenaline.

Blood streamed from the Xalan’s eyes, one of which still had the knife stuck in it. He lashed out blindly with his long talons, catching Lucas by surprise. A claw grazed Lucas’s cheek, but as he jumped back, further swings missed their mark by a few feet. Lucas briefly thought about attempting to question the snarling creature before him, but without Alpha’s translating abilities, there was nothing useful he could get from him. Well, almost nothing.

After the final creature lay sprawled on the ground with a smoldering hole in his forehead, Lucas unclasped his wrist display. After playing with the controls for a minute he finally found an option that read I
GNORE
C
URRENT
S
IGNATURE
. When pressed, the monitor went dead, no longer tracking his own heartbeat. He snapped it to his wrist, though it was meant to fit a far larger creature and took up most of his forearm. Quickly sifting through the rest of the bodies, he couldn’t find much that would be of use to him. Their armor was too bulky to wear, their guns too heavy to carry. The holodisplay he currently wore would have to do. He had to move, as god only knew what sort of attention that firefight had drawn from other search parties nearby. And still, the feeling that he was being watched never left him, even with all the dead around him. He sprinted off into the forest, leaving their bodies to the jungle.

Lucas’s singed arm and hurt leg were giving him trouble as he continued on, and it was another few hours before he even noticed the tiny piercing pain in his neck. He flinched when he went to scratch the area and his fingers brushed against a tiny sliver embedded in his skin. Stopping his trek, he carefully pulled it out with his thumb and forefinger. A red drop of blood was at the end of the centimeter-long protrusion. It was small and barbed and looked to be a little longer than a bee stinger, though that was exactly what it felt like. He’d waded through all manner of foreign insect swarms on his journey, but hadn’t thought much of the various bites he received. Sure, they itched, but this was different. Looking in the reflection of his survival knife, the area around where the stinger had been was dark red, almost black. Lucas pressed on it gently, drawing out another few crimson drops. He searched within himself to try and see if he could find any adverse symptoms other than a small amount of discomfort. Yes, he was fatigued and dizzy, but anyone making their way through such a hostile jungle with barely any food or water would likely feel the same. He shoved it to the back of his mind. Just another ailment he’d need treated when he finally found Alpha.
If
he found Alpha; it was getting harder and harder to believe what he was telling himself in order to stay motivated.

The rain started again, and shortly after, night fell once more, the ten-hour cycle starting anew. After two torrential downpours it was getting harder to see any smoke from the wreckage rising from the jungle, but Lucas still trusted that his gut was taking him the right direction. Still, he was growing concerned that he had yet to find anyone else from the ship alive. Worry gave way to exhaustion as his internal clock was spinning, and he propped himself precariously on a branch about thirty feet off the ground. The feeling that something was watching him had now left him, and he felt fully alone in the noisy jungle as he unwillingly drifted off to sleep.

Lucas woke with the dwarf sun rising quickly, spreading light through the mist in the air and the droplets on the leaves all around him. If it wasn’t for the looming specter of death that seemed to emanate from the forest, it might have actually been rather beautiful. The smoke from the wreckage was nonexistent now, but spherical Xalan probes strafed the skies, looking for survivors from on high. Whether they could detect him or not was anyone’s guess, but Lucas had tuned the heartbeat monitor clamped to his forearm to track both Xalan and Soran signatures, though the display had been quiet since he’d starting using it. He hoped it was actually working.

As Lucas moved through the wet brush, a dry scratching began to claw at the back of his throat. He tried to quell it with a swig from his canteen, but it did little to abate the feeling. He cleared his throat and kept trudging forward. A pair of scaled tree octopi swung through the branches a few dozen feet above him. Loud bird calls screeched nearby, though the creatures themselves were hidden from view. At least he imagined they were birds.

Lucas scratched the bump on his neck. It had expanded and the discoloration was now seeping into his collarbone. This was no bee sting. He rubbed another dab of med gel on the wound, but so far the treatment had no effect. There seemed to be a constant dull hum in his ears in addition to his newfound throat issues. He needed to find some help, and quickly.

A few more steps later faint pulses displayed on his heartbeat sensor, but he couldn’t tell if they were Soran or Xalan. He took a step forward and they disappeared. He took a step left and they were still gone. Only when he shifted right a solid three paces did the jagged lines return to the screen projected in front of him. Lucas clutched Natalie tightly and upgraded his brisk walk to a light jog in that direction, as much as it pained him. He wiped sweat from his brow as he kept glancing from the jungle ahead to the monitor. Five distinct lines had now appeared. One Soran heartbeat and four Xalans, still a good distance away. He drew upon all his remaining strength to start sprinting.

Gunshots. Lots of them. Lucas brought his pace down to a crawl. The sounds seemed to be incredibly close. He crept through the vines and ferns and tried to make out if there was anything up ahead. He couldn’t just run in there blindly, lest he catch a plasma round to the face before he even got a shot off, but it tortured him knowing a Guardian was out there fighting for their life the way he had earlier. It could be Asha for all he knew. He had to help.

But soon it became clear the person might not need his assistance after all. A Xalan heartbeat flatlined on the display while the others were racing a mile a minute. Lucas heard a few more gunshots and then another pulse went silent. He resumed running, determined to come to the aid of whoever this was, should they need it. He almost tripped over the first Xalan body, draped over a log with a long wooden spear sticking out of its neck. A few feet further and another Xalan soldier lay with a series of smoking holes across its body. Lucas bounded over a collapsed rock formation, scattering a bunch of tiny lizards living within. His heart monitor showed another flatline, along with the Soran’s heartbeat that was slowing down. Way down. Lucas burst into the clearing.

A few feet in front of him was another dead Xalan, this one without a head entirely. But the more pressing concern was a tall Xalan trooper standing with his back to Lucas, aiming his rifle at a figure whose bloodied, bare feet were visible between the creature’s legs.

Lucas didn’t even slow down as he sprayed a burst of plasma into the Xalan’s back. The creature spun around in agony, just in time to take one last shot to the head. He crumpled in a heap, and the air was sucked out of Lucas’s lungs when he saw what was lying on the ground.

It was Silo, bathed in black and red blood, propped up against a small boulder with a Xalan energy rifle a few feet out of his reach. His injuries were severe; a series of black plasma scorches peppered his thighs and torso, and deep claw marks were engraved all over his body, with a particularly nasty pair running across his face. His pulse was barely registering on Lucas’s monitor.

“Holy shit,” Lucas exclaimed breathlessly. Silo’s eyes lit up when he saw who was standing over him. Lucas quickly dropped to his knees and, with shaking hands, took out the med gel he’d collected from his pair of survival kits.

Silo made an attempt to laugh, causing blood to erupt from his mouth, which he spat out through choked breaths. He spoke, taking pauses as he attempted force out the words.

“It’s not … going to do anything,” he said weakly. “Save that for yourself, you’ll … probably need it.”

It was true. The small vials of gel were simply disappearing into the gaping holes all over his body. There wasn’t enough to stitch one of the gashes up, much less all of them.

“It’s fine … I … I just need to find someone, and they can come help,” Lucas said frantically, his hands now slippery with blood.

Silo shook his head.

“There is no one. And if there was, they couldn’t do anything for this.”

It was clear Silo couldn’t move his arms or legs, which were sprawled out uselessly around him. Lucas wasn’t eager to see what his spine looked like if the rest of him was this mangled.

“They’ll fix you. You people can fix anyone.”

“There’s no fixing dead,” Silo said with a painful chuckle. “Even we … haven’t figured that one out yet.”

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