Kill Shot: A Remnant of the Commonwealth, Book Two (23 page)

“They were killing us,” Aaron said. The tone of his voice was flat, monotone. If Susan
, or any of the others from his crew, had heard him speak, they wouldn’t have believed it was Aaron talking.

“Bullshit!” Will spat. “Why would they do that? We are, or were, the last hope.”

“War’s lost. Commonwealth is no more.”

Will sighed deeply at that. “And probably will never be again,” he said softly. “But orders are orders. I was supposed to bring you back alive, but I don’t think the senator will mind if you’re dead. Bringing you back is what’s important.”

“Senator? Don’t you mean collaborator?”

“I don’t much like
it myself. But the senator’s right. If we’re going to get out from under the Miram Union’s control, then we have to get them to release their stranglehold. Can’t do anything with the CW in as bad a shape as it is. And they won’t ease the restrictions on us if anybody ever found about you. Hell, right now public opinion’s on our side. How do you think that’ll change if the story about that moon gets out?”

Once again Will’s head popped out beyond the edge of the support column, but he yanked it back quick
ly. Aaron didn’t even get a shot off this time.

“It’s a shame, really. I read your file before I came here. I was impressed, and that makes what you did all the worse.” Another pause, like he was waiting on Aaron to say something. When he didn’t
, Will continued, “You and I are the same. Did you suspect that?” Another pause. There was the sound of movement and Will’s head came out from behind the pillar.

Aaron was ready and fired
, but Will looked out from a higher point than before and once again Aaron just blasted a chunk of the support away.

“Nice try,” Will called, jerking his head back again.

Aaron slumped. Exhaustion and his injuries were beginning to wear him down. For the first time he lowered the Horace. He just couldn’t hold it up the whole time.

“So, I’m going to take your body back to the senator. He won’t much like that I’m bringing him a corpse, but shit happens.
Of course, I can’t go back without your four friends. Care to tell me where they might be? I suppose that if I brought them back alive then the senator would overlook your death.”

There was a sudden intake of breath
, and Aaron raised his gun quickly.

“Shit! What did you do to Emma?”

“Who?” Aaron asked.

“The woman who was using the comm gear. Catching you completely drove it from my mind.”

“Dead,” Aaron said in that same flat, monotone voice.

Will gasped in surprise. “You fucking murderer,” he said quietly.

Something had to change and change quick. Aaron’s body was in bad shape, and his vision was going fuzzy. He didn’t have long now. Either he died, or he had to change how things were proceeding. He pushed with his legs and pain erupted from both his side and his injured leg. But he pushed through the pain and forced himself into a sitting position.

The logic of the statement made perfect sense. This Emma and the two in his hotel room had tried to kill him, and he had just defended himself. Why Will would be so shocked by it made no sense, but it did provide a possibility. Perhaps he could goad this Will into a rash action.

He raised the Horace and pointed it at the column. “Killed Terra and Quinton too,” he said.

Will gasped again
, and then he aimed his handgun around the edge of the column.

Aaron opened up with the Horace, peppering the edge of the column where Will’s gun was visible. Will screamed and pulled back.

Aaron slumped. He had managed to hit Will, but the wound was most likely not life threatening. Only Will’s left arm had been visible and, at most, he had taken several shots to the arm. The column probably took more damage than Will had. Even now, several large pieces of metal broke and fell away.

Will’s labored breathing was easy enough to hear, but Aaron tuned it out. It was possible that he had just discovered the solution to this problem. He
forced his tortured body onto his knees, and pain bloomed through his injured side. He ignored it and grabbed the metal crate that he was hiding behind and used it to pull himself up. Several involuntary grunts escaped him and he checked the column to see if Will had heard. It appeared that he had not. Aaron could see Will’s feet sticking out. He was sitting on the floor with his back to the column. For a brief moment, Aaron thought Will was dead.

“Bastard!” Will called. He was still breathing heavy and his words were more difficult to understand. “You got me, but not good enough to kill me. So, you know what we’re going to do? We’re going to sit here until you die. What do you think about that?”

Aaron’s response was to point the Horace at the middle of the damaged column and open fire. Chips of metal flew from the column as plasma blast after plasma blast hit home. After just a moment the column glowed red hot.

It took eight shots for the middle of the column to collapse, and with it, part of the roof came down.

Chapter 30

Susan shifted in her seat, trying to give herself a bit more room. The cab of the transport could easily accommodate two people. Three people could ride without feeling too cramped, but four was too much.

Russell drove and the three women were practically sitting on top of each other. Jessica sat next to Russell, and she appeared to be having a difficult time staying out of his way. These cargo transports were not easy to drive and it was complicated even more when people kept
interfering with the controls.

Susan resisted the urge to sigh. She knew that Russell was driving as fast as he could. The transport was not built for speed, and he was doing an excellent job given their circumstances.

There was one thing that was working in their favor: the spaceport roads were deserted. Reece and the others like him were patrolling the spaceport, questioning anyone on the streets.

One such group of thugs posing as security guards had stopped their transport and spent nearly five minutes questioning them. They might still be answering questions if Susan hadn’t mentioned Reece’s name. The thugs had placed a call to Reece, who confirmed he had just inspected their ship, and that had gotten Susan and the rest free. She just hoped they could avoid any more such stops.

Russell slowed down and turned right, the three women grabbing hold of anything and everything to keep from sliding into each other. There was some jostling and a few curses, but somehow they managed to stay out of Russell’s way.

Russell gunned the transport and it sped up, but only for a moment and then he started slowing down again.

Susan, busy trying to keep from grabbing Jessica and Eve in an inappropriate manner, looked up, momentarily afraid that another group of thugs was stopping them. In a way she was right, just not how she expected. Russell was slowing because they were approaching the main spaceport entrance.

Susan’s mouth dropped open as she surveyed the scene. All the bars and brothels were closed down and the streets were deserted. It looked more like an
abandoned street in a warzone than the bustling thoroughfare she remembered from a week ago. Large numbers of men in battle armor and carrying rifles stood clustered around the gates; several of them put their hands up to stop the transport. Russell obeyed quickly; they didn’t want to get shot, and the guards were a bit trigger-happy.

They came to a stop and a guard, sans helmet, looked in through the window. The sight of the four of them sitting atop each other was enough. He grinned and said, “All right, everyone out.”

It took a moment for the four of them to disentangle and climb from the transport’s cab, but they lined up quickly.

Some of the guards in the back had lowered their rifles. They weren’t pointing the rifles at Susan or her crew, but they were pointed in such a way where the guard could quickly swing the gun up and begin firing.

Susan took a deep breath, determined to not piss anyone off, even though her mind was screaming that they were wasting time.

“S
tate your ship name and landing-bay number,” the helmetless guard said. He was the closest guard and the only one not carrying a rifle.

“
We’re from the
Soaring Freedom,
in landing bay Alpha seventy-four. One of yours by the name of Reece just cleared us,” Susan said.

The guard had been looking at Russell and seemed surprised that it was Susan
who answered. “And you are?”

“Captain
Susan Bateman,” Susan said, holding her ID card out. It was one of several forged ones that Kyle’s father, Charles Morgan, had given her.

The guard took the ID card and studied it for a moment. Then he handed it to another guard. “Call Reece and verify their story.” The second guard moved off quickly, heading toward a small mobile command center.

The helmetless guard turned his attention back to Susan. “And where are you going this evening?” he asked.

“Mainly going to get supplies, but I also hoped to get a drink and try to find a few perspective crewmen,” Susan said, lying flawlessly. “My ship is a few crewmen short.”

The guard watched her, as if he expected her to have “liar” printed across her forehead, and then glanced at the other three. “Does it take four of you to get supplies and talk to spacers?”

Susan chuckled, sounding normal. “Not hardly. I’m looking for crewman,” Susan said and then beg
an motioning towards the others. “Russell is getting the supplies, Eve wants a drink, and honestly I think Jessica came just so she could get laid.”

Eve and Russell kept their faces straight, but Jessica blushed furiously.

The guard didn’t seem to have a sense of humor. “I’m afraid you’re out of luck. Most of the supply shops and outfitters have closed for the evening. I doubt you’ll find a pub or restaurant open either.”

“Seriously?” Susan asked, adding just the right amount of indignation. “Is the whole planet shutting down?”

The guard seemed just a tad offended. “A prominent member of our society was gunned down today, and the government is not stopping until his killer is brought to justice. The local businesses are doing their part to help.”

“Great,” Susan said. “That has absolutely nothing to do with us or just about everyone else on this planet.
” And she didn’t think it was justice they wanted, but more like revenge.

The guard ignored her comment and said, “I think I’ll inspect your transport.”

Susan laughed, she just couldn’t help it. She turned to look at the empty transport. Both doors stood open revealing the empty cab, and the flat cargo area was also empty. She motioned with her hands. “Go ahead. That should take about five seconds.” Despite her apparent jocular attitude, Susan’s guts were turning themselves over within her.
Oh, I hope Terry did a good job hiding that concealed cargo hold,
she kept thinking over and over.

The guard took a deep breath, apparently trying to rein in his temper.
He was spared having to glance through the open doors by the reappearance of the guard from the mobile command center.

“Well?” the helmetless guard demanded.

“Sir, Mr. Reece seemed upset that we contacted him,” the young guard said quickly.

Mr. Reece?
Susan thought.
I thought Reece was his first name. Is it his last name?

“
It would seem that Captain Bateman is telling the truth, and Mr. Reece has been called about her several times.” The young guard looked a bit sick but hurried on. “He says we are to quit bothering him and let Captain Bateman go about her business.”

The helmetless guard nodded and stood a bit straighter.

It seemed that Mr. Reece had some pull in this organization. She had thought him just a two-bit thug, but it appeared he was a very influential thug.

“Captain, you and your crew are free to continue into the city. We will inspect any cargo that you bring back and any crewmen will be questioned prior to be allowed to board your ship.”

Susan nodded. “My thanks,” she said simply, then turned and walked slowly back to the transport. She fought long and hard, and managed not to exhale in relief.

Chapter
31

Dust and debris washed over Aaron, but he barely registered them. His eyes sought out Will’s body for some sign that the man was alive or dead. Even as wooden beams cascaded down around him, Aaron ignored them. There was little he could do to avoid them anyway given his body’s current condition.

After a moment it began to get quiet. The support beams of the ceiling and some of the tiles that made up the floor of the room above him had fallen th
rough, making a large pile of debris directly where Will had been sitting. Parts of the ceiling had collapsed, while other sections just tilted downward at a dangerous angle.

Holding the Horace in his right hand, Aaron limped closer. It was difficult to see
, as the ceiling collapse had kicked up an enormous amount of dust.

A cough came from the side and Aaron aimed his gun in that direction. After a moment he struggled
closer to the source of the cough.

He found Will lying on his back,
pinned there by the weight of the massive support column. Technically, it was only the top half of the column. The bottom half still stood attached to the middle of the floor.

Will’s eyes opened and focused on Aaron. He was in bad shape. Bleeding from the nose and mouth, covered in dust, and his ri
ght arm was broken—the bone was protruding through the forearm. He coughed again. “You can’t get away,” he said in a hoarse whisper. “Not forever. Sooner or later, one of us will catch you.”

In answer, Aaron pointed the Horace at Will’s face.

Will coughed a third time and stared at the gun. “Gonna kill me?” he asked. “I might be the only other one like you—the only other cyborg alive—and you’re going to kill me?”

Perhaps Aaron would have been sentimental, perhaps he would have spared this misguided man, but that Aaron was not in control now. This Aaron was all about fulfilling the mission, or perhaps
program
was a better word. He squeezed the trigger and the Horace bucked in his hand. One shot was enough.

After holstering his gun, Aaron moved over to where Eric was strapped down. Eric appeared dusty, but otherwise unharmed.
He was still unconscious. Both eyes were black and swollen. It looked like his jaw had been broken and several teeth were gone. Several of his fingers ended not in fingernails, but in bloody tissue where his fingernails had once been.

There was a small tray sitting beside Eric’s chair. Upon the tray sat several laser needles. One was a sedative, while a second was a stimulant.

Aaron picked up the stimulant and, not even bothering to wipe the dust off, he jammed it into Eric’s arm. He pressed the stopper and injected a dosage into Eric’s arm.

It took a moment
, but Eric slowly rotated his head so that he could see. His eyelids fluttered, and he kept blinking his eyes. “Aaron?” he croaked. “You look like hell.”

The irony of the comment was lost on Aaron and he didn’t respond. Instead, he began loosening the straps. Once he had an arm loose, Eric began to help. It took another three minutes to get him loose, but then he scooted to the edge of the chair and stood up, wincing.

He looked around at the mess. “You sure did a number on the place.” His speech was slow, like he was still suffering from whatever drugs they had given him. His eyes flicked to the doorway. “Are any of the others still alive?”

“No,” Aaron answered.

Eric looked back to Aaron. “You okay? You sound funny.”

Aaron turned slightly so that his wound was visible.

“Uh-oh,” Eric said quietly. “We need to get you to Jessica.” He reached out, like he was going to take Aaron by the arm, but Aaron moved away.

“One moment,” Aaron said, nearly gasping. He hobbled closer to the center of the debris pile. The generator he’d noticed earlier was there, mostly undamaged by the ceiling collapse. A wooden beam had fallen close by and one end rested across the
top of the generator. Nearly a foot of rubble lay scattered all around the generator’s base.

He stopped beside the generator and leaned against it. A wave of nausea rolled over him; the pain was getting worse, and it was becoming impossible to ignore it. He took several deep breaths a
nd the pain slowly faded away—not completely, but enough where he could turn his attention to the generator.

H
e pushed the wooden beam away and examined the controls.

The model wasn’t new and was rather inexpensive. One of the reasons it was so cheap was that it lacked some of the more basic safety features. After a minute or so, Aaron began changing the control settings.

Eric limped over and looked over Aaron’s shoulder. “Hey! That’s dangerous. You’re setting up a feedback loop. It could explode.”

Aaron turned his head and stared. No words were necessary.

Eric looked a little embarrassed. “Sorry. I guess you want it to explode?”

Aaron turned back and made some more adjustments to the controls. When he was done
, he turned and regarded Eric.

Eric was looking from Aaron to the generator. He looked nervous. “How long do we have?” he asked.

“Five to seven minutes,” Aaron answered.

The answer seemed to catch Eric off guard. “Really? That long?”

Aaron motioned toward the door. “We have to go.”

Eric nodded and the two of them began walking toward the door. They were both in bad shape, but Eric’s torture had not included being shot, so he was in slightly better shape. He helped support Aaron as they limped, hobbled, and cursed their way from the room.

They had passed the chair where Eric had been restrained and were nearly to the hall when Eric stopped. A smile split his face and he stepped away from Aaron, nearly making Aaron fall to the ground.

“Hey, look!” Eric said cheerfully. He moved over and picked up a duffel bag that lay under a thick coat of dust. “It’s my bag.” He opened it up and looked inside, grinning. “Most of my shit’s still here, too.”

Aaron had not stopped when Eric left him, but continued his slow hobble toward the door. “Hurry!” he called in that same monotone voice.

As Aaron passed from the room into the hallway, Eric rejoined him, now carrying his duffel.

They hurried as fast as their injuries would allow down the long hallway. They passed the room where the dead woman, Emma, still lay on the floor. They paused in the doorway. Eric surveyed the scene.

“She fucking deserved it,” he said after a mome
nt, then he threw one last insult at her, “bitch.” He stared at her for a moment, and might have gone on staring at her but for Aaron.

“Hurry,” Aaron said, pulling on Eric’s arm.

Eric moved away from the door, turning to catch one more glance of the woman.

The two men walked, entwined; Aaron supporting Eric, while Eric helped support Aaron.

They stumbled down the remainder of the hall and across the empty room to the stairs. They took the stairs slowly; the pain of their injuries nearly making them fall several times. If they fell, it was doubtful they would be able to get back up.

Somehow they emerged from the stairs onto the first floor. No words were exchanged, but Aaron led them toward the front of the building.

The main door had been sealed shut, but Aaron’s Horace made quick work of it and then they emerged into the yard and headed for the street. It had been nearly four minutes since Aaron had gimmicked the generator. This whole block was going to go up in another minute or two.

They passed through a large opening in the fence when lights from an oncoming transport made them pull up short. Aaron pulled the Horace from its holster and waited.