NOVEL NEXT Chapter Eleven: License To Kill
Day 17
Science Wing
United Space Systems Vessel California
19:36 hours
Teresa and Bess make their way around darkened corridors. Bess is armed with a metal bar taken from the engineering level. Teresa carries her grandfather’s .38 pistol, in addition to a metal pipe. The pistol is tucked into the front of Teresa’s pants for easy retrieval. She wields the pipe in front of her like a machete.
The ship’s lights and power have been off since approximately thirty minutes after Teresa pulled the alarm in the laboratory. Not long after the alarm sounded, the first known Judas roach escaped containment and killed a civilian contractor. However, Teresa is certain that the warning given prior to the power outage pertains to the blacked out holding tanks in her lab. Several specimens were already loose from the lab. Hell does not fully encompass the mayhem that followed. Slaughter, carnage, and more carnage. At the claws and jaws of mankind’s most prolific and resilient foe, the cockroach.
Every few meters, Teresa and Bess come across a recently constructed organic structure. Structures put in place by the escaped Judas specimens. At one particularly blocked junction in the corridor, Teresa and Bess are forced to rip their way out using the metal bars.
If what Dr. Boyd suspects is true, it has been nearly seventy-two hours, and several generations, since the first full-grown Judas Bug broke containment. By now, there are likely dozens of the creatures roaming the ship. Distant screams pierce the darkness from time to time—warning the two frightened women that the predators have claimed yet another victim. Bess, who is behind Teresa, grabs her boss’ arm to get her to stop walking.
“Didn’t you hear that?” Bess says, a shiver coursing her spine. “I don’t think we should go that way.”
At the same instant, something crashes to the floor behind them. Bess jumps with fright, clutching the metal bar in her hand even tighter. Teresa glances back briefly, but returns her attention to the front—their destination.
“We don’t have any other choice,” Teresa says resignedly. “We observed evidence of the Judas Breed back the other way as well. We need to find other people. There’s strength in numbers. Maybe we can join up with a few of the colonial marines that are on board? At least, they’ll have guns. Just stay close. Okay, Bess? Stay close.”
Bess nods her head but stays quiet. The silence is broken by an announcement over the ship’s loudspeaker.
“Attention! All passengers and ship personnel. Collision with planet’s surface in t-minus twenty-two minutes. Ship will enter the planet’s atmosphere in t-minus eighteen minutes. Attention! All passengers and ship personnel. Collision with planet’s surface in t-minus twenty-two minutes. Ship will enter the planet’s atmosphere in t-minus eighteen minutes. Please make your way to the nearest crash station to commence final preparations for a crash landing.”
The announcement continues on a loop. Teresa grips Bess’ trembling hand and pulls the younger woman forward.
“Come on, Bess!” Teresa whispers. “We have to go.”
Before they get more than three meters, there is a loud scurrying noise above them. Teresa looks up just in time to catch a glimpse of a large adult Judas bug. The insect now wears the misshapen face of a man. Teresa lets out a loud gasp as she recognizes the face of the ship’s lead cook.
“Oh god—,” Teresa utters, and then Bess is pulled from her grasp.
“Nooooo!” Bess screams, as she is yanked upward, and struggles against the attacking insect.
Teresa aims the pistol at the bug, but realizes that Bess’ body is blocking all vital areas of the hybrid mimic. As if mocking Teresa, the Judas roach grips Bess’ middle in two elongated forelegs. Bess struggles even more, her screams becoming more and more frantic. In one motion, the Judas bug rips Bess completely in half.
Teresa stifles a gasp, as she is sprayed with what used to be Bess’ innards and blood. Now there is no obstruction. Teresa fires all of her bullets into the offending monster. The insect squeals as it crashes to the floor atop Bess’ ruined body. Teresa quickly turns to run. She heads for the nearest crash station. She hopes she won’t run into any more resistance along the way.
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Halfway to the crash station, Teresa trips over an obstacle and goes sprawling. Recoiling from the gore splashed on nearly every inch of the floor around her, Teresa spies something which gives her some measure of hope. On the floor lies the arm of a deceased colonial marine. The marine’s arm still clutches the standard issue Orville rifle he was firing before his untimely demise.
Scrambling behind Teresa spurs her to action. She grabs the marine’s arm, and rifle, from the floor. Squeezing the marine’s trigger finger, which is held in place by advanced rigor mortis, Teresa fires off a spray of rounds in the direction the noise came from. She is overjoyed at the resulting screech which follows. On target. The sound does not repeat.
Teresa is satisfied that the bug has effectively been neutralized. She removes the marine’s fingers from the rifle, breaking every digit on the dead hand to get the job done. It sickens her to hear each bone crack, but carrying the marine’s dead arm around doesn’t exactly appeal to her either. Dropping the arm, and wishing the marine godspeed, Teresa resumes her run to the crash pods.
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When Teresa finally reaches the crash station, her heart sinks. All but one pod is occupied—by dead civilians, colonial marines, and ship’s personnel.
Holding the rifle snug to her shoulder, Teresa creeps forward. She passes by each crash pod, peering into the dead faces of the people strapped into the crash chairs. None of the people strapped down had managed to lower the safety glass partitions which surround each chair. One man, a civilian, is missing his head and upper torso. Another civilian, a woman, seems to have been stabbed numerous times by the deadly forelegs of an adult Judas. The first marine was stabbed directly in the mouth—probably while in the midst of screaming or hollering a command. Not much is left of his lower face.
Teresa shivers as she makes her way to the last crash pod. She moves the Orville rifle back and forth, keeping her finger near the trigger. She also glances up at the ceiling to make sure that she has not missed anything. Once she is certain she is alone, Teresa sits down and quickly straps in. An adult Judas lumbers around the corner just as she reaches up to shut the pod’s glass containment bubble.
Dropping her hands from the edge of the rim, Teresa levels the rifle. The Judas spies her and flaps its wings—hurrying in her direction. Teresa fires off a blast and misses. She fires again. This time, she clips the Judas’ left wing and it spins partially away. Teresa knows that the noise generated from this firefight will draw more bugs. She fires again—intent on finishing the Judas off. Her shot strikes its target. The insect's head, a mockery of human physiology, explodes with a wet meaty crack.
Not waiting for another Judas to ambush her, Teresa lowers the glass containment bubble. She sits absolutely still and waits for any other bugs to make their appearance. Only one insect enters the area, but it appears uninterested. Teresa suspects the containment bubble has obscured her scent and that the insect cannot see her through the opaque glass. She remains completely still.
The Judas is thrown against the opposite wall when the California smashes into the planet’s surface. Teresa bounces around in the containment bubble but is otherwise fine. She loses consciousness a moment after the ship crash lands. Stress, and the shock of seeing her lab assistant torn in half, at last takes it toll.