NOVEL NEXT Chapter Sixteen: Safety in Numbers
Day 21
Galley Freezer
20:29 hours
Harold is seated at the table working on another incendiary device. What remains of the frozen produce has been shoved to one side of the table, having been picked through by the three human refugees.
A loud concussive explosion, followed by rapid rifle fire, causes them all to stop what they are doing. Theodore climbs from his place on the floor, the weapon he was crafting still lying there. He glances up at the ceiling.
“That was rifle fire. Those are colonial marines,” the engineer says in a choked voice.
“Yeah,” Teresa says, coming to stand beside Theodore. “And that was pretty close. Maybe on the deck above us.”
The impact of another explosion rocks the large ship and Harold grips the edge of the table. He rises to his feet and moves to where Teresa and Theodore stand almost riveted in place—both staring up at the ceiling as if expecting the colonial marines to melt through the floor.
“If those are marines? Then, who just fired on the California?” Harold yells to be heard. “Last I checked…The Judases don’t use weapons! Someone’s firing on us! Earthers maybe?”
Another explosion, and the remaining lights on the ship dim.
“Goddamn!” Theo curses. “If we lose what little power is left…We’ll never make it out of here. We’ve gotta get to communications and restore power to the ship! Then, we can pilot—”
Another hard explosion. The three humans are nearly knocked off their feet as the ship lurches and lists.
“We need to try and find those colonial marines,” Teresa says.
She grips Harold’s upper arm and looks deep into his eyes. A million different words and phrases hurtle through her mind. She mentally pushes them aside and mentions what is most important.
“We take what weapons we’ve already assembled, and we head out there," Dr. Boyd says resolutely. "And we find them. Strength in numbers. There were at least fifty marines on this ship when we crash landed. We need their firepower.”
Uncertainty fills Harold and he glances briefly at Theodore. He eventually comes around to the same conclusion.
“Yeah. More guns would help,” Harold agrees. “Maybe all the commotion will work as a distraction.”
Teresa tenderly pats Harold’s cheek. His face grows hot with bottled emotion.
“Alright. Then, let’s go!” Dr. Boyd says with a near manic smile.
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All loaded up, the three colleagues step to the freezer door and listen intently for any sign of activity on the other side. Harold grips Teresa’s elbow as he reaches for the door handle.
“You walk in the center, Dr. Boyd,” Harold says in a soft whisper.
“Dr. Boyd?” Teresa says. “I think we’re beyond that now, Harold.”
Harold smiles and squeezes Teresa’s elbow. This solicits a smile from her as well. Theodore simply rolls his eyes.
“Okay. Now, if you two lovebirds are finished? Can we go?” Theodore hisses impatiently.
“Let’s go,” Harold says.
Before anyone can have second thoughts, he yanks open the door to the freezer and motions for Theodore to go first.
“Experience before youth,” Harold says with a sarcastic sneer.
Theodore turns his mouth up in an unattractive expression. He shoots Harold a two-finger salute.
“Uh…Hmm!” he says.
With slight hesitation, the engineer steps out of the freezer. Teresa and Harold are not far behind. But far enough.
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The sound of weapons fire has not ceased since the moment the three humans first observed the firefight. In fact, the frequency of rifle blasts seems to have increased. As has the number of screams bouncing around in the darkened spaces. However, the explosions have lessened; and the voices and rifle shots appear to be a lot closer.
“They can’t be far now,” Theodore says, a touch of excitement in his voice. “Maybe only a few meters up that way. Can’t really tell with all this buggy crap everywhere. It’s making everything sound weird. The acoustics are off or something.”
Theodore repositions his flamethrower on his shoulder and hovers his finger near the buttons.
“Let’s go…,” he says and turns back toward the front.
No sooner are the words out of his mouth, a large adult Judas races down the corridor in their direction. Theodore’s eyes widen as he catches a glimpse of the almost human face worn by the beast.
“Oh sh—,” he begins to say. He never has an opportunity to finish.
The Judas catches sight of Theodore and glides in his direction. A large blast shakes the air within the corridor and the Judas is blown apart. An enlarged forearm of the adult specimen is flung into the air, by the force of the blast. The severed forearm nearly decapitates Theodore, as it embeds itself in a clump of organic matter behind them. As it is, the forearm only manages to take off half of Theodore’s head. The body, with the remaining half of a head, falls heavily to the cold floor.
Teresa screams and raises her Orville rifle. Harold yells a frantic warning.
“No! Don’t!” he cries and slams Teresa against the wall splattered with roach secretions. Another bright light illuminates the tight quarters as a blast of what looks like laser fire obliterates the wall directly behind where Teresa had previously been standing. Harold presses a hand to his lips and motions for Teresa to go deeper into the organic roach motel.
“What do you—,” Teresa hisses.
“Just move!” Harold orders. He reaches into a pocket of his work jumpsuit and then hands her his utility knife. “I recognize where we are. Just…Cut through all this crap. Keep moving that way.”
Dr. Boyd begins sawing through the organic detritus. She glances over her shoulder at Harold, who is holding both edges of the opening they crawled into.
“You recognize where we are?” Teresa says incredulously. “How can you know where we are through all of…This?”
Harold keeps his voice low and continues to peep through a small slit between the two folds of the roachy material.
“I used to be an engineer. Schematics and such are second-nature. I can tell where we are just by the number of rivets, bolts, and screws in an area of wall…Or a particular scuff on the floor.”
Harold waits until Teresa has a significant amount of material cut away before following her in.
“Keep going until you reach a bend in the corridor. About three feet after the bend…You’ll feel a grate on the right side of the wall. Once you feel that…Use my knife to loosen the screws and open it up. We can crawl through the ducting to the transport deck. There are a few spots that might be a little tight, but most should fit a person okay.”
Teresa continues to crawl forward, cutting away the organic matter as she moves along.
“Why did you stop me from firing, Harold?” Teresa calls back to Harold. She is careful not to speak too loudly. “What do you know?”
“I don’t really know anything. Just a suspicion,” Harold says, crawling quickly behind Teresa. “That blast we saw. Reminded me of a story my grandmother used to tell…About her great uncle. He disappeared during a mission for the CIA. An old Earth intelligence agency. My many greats uncle’s team was sent to determine the whereabouts of a missing operative. Only one member of his team came back. He told all these tales about alien spacecraft, advanced weaponry, and some really wicked technology. He went into a lot of detail about one of their energy cannons. That blast we saw up there. It got me thinking. Suddenly, I didn’t think it was such a good idea to go waving our weapons around. We are definitely outgunned. The lone survivor…He said, they won’t kill you if you’re unarmed.”
Teresa’s face twists into a sarcastic grimace.
“That’s real neighborly of them,” she says in a low whisper.
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Back in the corridor Harold and Teresa escaped from, a distorted silhouette strolls casually to where Theodore's mutilated form lies. Surveying the damage to Theodore's skull, the silhouette turns--shaking its head and chittering with disgust.