Asterion (21 page)

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Authors: Kenneth Morvant

Tags: #technothriller, #dystopia, #Christian, #dystopian, #nearfuture, #Science, #speculative, #Fiction, #experimentation, #Science Fiction, #genetic, #scifi, #military, #DNA, #gene, #technology, #minotaur

BOOK: Asterion
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Asterion has similar difficulties. Nothing in his DNA gives him the sweat glands necessary to perspire like humans. Only panting with his tongue, moisture evaporation through his nostrils and finding cool liquids give any relief. Asterion searches for repellant spray and gets some relief from the bugs.

Sarge stops and motions the two to be still. He listens intently through the cacophonous insect and animal noises in the swamp. He whispers, “He’s not far behind. He’s having a hard time in this heat. Cows don’t like to move too fast when it’s hot.” He motions for them to continue. Crossing the dry path, they get to a clearing at the bank of a bayou. He helps Christine in the boat and he gets on and goes to the back. Taylor unties the boat from a branch, with one foot on the front seat of the boat shoves it away from the bank with his other foot and climbs aboard. Starting the outboard, Sarge slips it in gear and they speed away.

Asterion hears the boat and searches around for a boat. Finding one large enough for his frame, he boards the boat. The owner, a short, bald, elderly round man in his shorts and tee with a twelve-gauge shotgun, confronts him. “Get out of my boat!”

Asterion spins around and the man stares at a sight he has never seen in his life. With lightning speed, Asterion grabs the shotgun out of his hands, snarls at him and says, “Keys.”

The man, shaking, reaches out with the keys. Asterion grabs them and starts the engines. “Untie me!” The man with eyes and mouth wide open removes the lines from the mooring and throws them onboard. Asterion speeds away from the dock in pursuit of his quarry. The poor shaken fellow stands in his skivvies on the dock wondering what just happened.

Asterion’s voracious appetite for information served him well. He knew a great many things, but experience is another thing.

Motoring down canals and bayous, the three navigate the waterways to get to an open lake. When they reach the end of the canal, an open expanse greets them. They dock the small boat in a slough, they help Sarge pull it up the shallow bank and hide it in the weeds.

Sarge stands up and cups his hand over his ear. He spins around straining to hear any approaching boats. He focuses on one direction. “There’s a twin-engine boat coming fast.”

He points to a mound of branches, “This way.”

They rush over and start removing the branches hiding an airboat. They climb aboard and Sarge hops in the driver’s seat and tosses earphones to them. He puts his on and starts the engine. The noise is deafening. He motions for them to sit down and hold on as he advances the throttle. The boat shudders and starts to move down the bank. Once in the water it accelerates quickly and they are skimming across the lake. The still air leaves the surface of the water slick, like a sheet of glass. Glancing behind him, Sarge sees the powerboat emerge from the canal and steer straight for them. Sarge looks at Taylor and motions with his thumb pointing backward. Taylor eases his head around the side of the boat and sees the familiar silhouette of Asterion’s head and horns above the windshield of the boat. They have a head start, but the faster boat will eventually catch up to them.

Sarge keeps an eye on their pursuer. When he closes within a quarter of a mile, he shouts to them. “It’s going to get rough. We have to hit the shallows where he can’t go if we are going to get away.” Sarge abruptly turns twenty degrees to port and they are jerked forward momentarily as the weeds slow the boat.

Asterion sees the shallow shore and turns just in time to avoid an impact. He radios in. “I need a fix on my position and tracking on the fugitives.”

Griggs motions for his communications person to focus a satellite on Asterion’s location. The GPS device on Asterion finds him easily and the soldier scans the area for other heat signatures. “I’ve found them sir.” Griggs looks at the screen and begins the arduous task of directing him down the deeper canal trying to keep pace and not lose the three.

Sarge looks back and turns to Taylor and Christine. “He can’t keep up with us.”

Taylor and Christine in unison reply, “Good!”

They charge on through the night hoping to put as much distance between them and Asterion. When Sarge feels they have enough distance between them and Asterion, he gets back on the lake and speeds down the southern shore of the lake.

Asterion, guided by the Griggs’ team makes his way out of the maze of canals and speeds towards them. He nears, but they finally reach the lake shoreline and the airboat’s advantage takes over again.

Asterion spots an airboat moored at a dock. Crashing the powerboat into the dock, he flies over the front of the boat. He injures his leg. Tearing a hole in his calf on a cleat, he howls in pain and limps to the airboat. The keys are in the ignition. He starts it up and awkwardly steers it in the general direction of the others.

Sarge looks at the fuel gauge. It is getting low. He timed it for their next fuel stop, but he is cutting it close. “When we get to the fuel dump, I need y’all to help me transfer fuel as fast as we can.”

They nod in acknowledgement. Pulling up to an inconspicuous tangle of branches and tall weeds Sarge quickly stops the engine and uses the edge to slow them to a quick, precise stop. They hop out on to the soft ground of weeds and semi-soft mud. Struggling to move, they uncover the fuel drum and start hand-pumping fuel into several cans. Taylor pumps first, Christine hands the heavy five gallon cans to Sarge who quickly pours it in the tank. Sarge switches places with Taylor who if fatiguing from the constant pulling up and down on the handle.

After a few more cans, Taylor shines a light into the tank. “The tank is topped off!”

“You and Christine hop on.” Sarge hides the drum and jumps into his seat, fires off the engine. He can see the running lights of a boat not too far in the distance.

Taylor looks over the munitions Sarge has on the boat. He finds a rocket propelled grenade launcher and smiles at Sarge.

Sarge smiles back. “A last resort if we need it. Even out here the flash and noise might bring unwelcome attention.”

Christine and Taylor look at each other and smile. They know that they have a fighting chance. Asterion on the other hand, salivates at the opportunity to put his hands on them. He loves the exhilaration of the chase as much as the finish.

Sarge finds the swamp basin and firewalls the throttle. The moss-covered oaks give way to the similarly decorated bald cypress trees common in this area. The lights shine ahead and illuminate the eyes of the inhabitants of the swamp. A mishap now would surely doom them. Alligators, poisonous snakes, garfish, snapping and alligator turtles are just some of the hazards here.

The swamp closes in on them and Sarge must proceed with caution. The cypress trees here have roots that rise like stalagmites. Some rise high above the water, but some are treacherously just below the surface. They can rip an aluminum hull and doom the occupants.

They near a large inland shipping canal and Sarge chances it in the dark. He can always dart back into the canals and marsh to elude capture. Asterion guided by Griggs is not far behind. Breaking free from the confines of the side waters, he buries the throttle and leans into the wind.

Sarge sees the familiar lights getting slowly closer. “Hang on!” He crashes through the weeds and starts skimming the wetlands. There are alligator nests in this area and he hopes that Asterion does not see them in time to avoid them. The engine roars as it tears through the landscape twisting and turning to avoid obstacles. Asterion hits a mound sending the boat airborne. He hangs on, the boat slams down on the soft ground, and he presses the pursuit. Lesson learned he keeps watch for the telltale signs of the nests.

Sarge points ahead, Taylor and Christine see the open waters of a bay near the coast. Ditching the airboat, Sarge points at a boat on the dock. “Gather the stuff. There’s our next ride!”

Taylor and Christine grab all they can and quickly get to the powerboat docked at the marina. Sarge hops in and reaches under the dash. He laughs and shows them the key. He inserts it and starts the inboard engines. Sarge is in his element. Fighting for his existence and something more important he shouts, “Hang on to them seats!” They are thrown back as the twin V8’s roar to full throttle with rooster tails shooting vertical into the air the boat rapidly gains speed.

Asterion bellows in anger at their quick getaway. Searching over the marina, he spies a racing boat. Climbing aboard he manages to open the glove compartment where the key is located. He starts the boat. Slams it in gear and throttles up. It almost sends him over the back of the seat. Hanging on, he smiles at his fortune and starts to close in on the three of them.

Sarge notices the lights trailing them. They are getting ever closer to them. He spies the running lights of shrimp boats anchored with butterfly nets taking advantage of the natural tides. The ebb and flow of the sea that drives the shrimp back and forth and into silent, waiting nets while preserving precious expensive fuel. Giving them a wide berth to avoid tangling in the nets he weaves his way through them. Exiting the group, he stays on a westerly course. They are half-way across the open waterway.

Asterion, confused by the group of fishing boats calls in to get his bearings. Griggs checks the satellite imagery, “Due west, three miles.” Asterion turns the boat abruptly and sets his course.

Soon he can see their running lights in the far distance.

Sarge sees him closing on them. He darts into a canal and weaves his way back into the canals. In the darkness, Sarge sees a floating tree but it is too late to avoid the obstacle completely. Slamming into the hull, it rides under the boat and destroys the propeller of one of the engines causing strong vibrations. Sarge shuts down the starboard engine and proceeds at a reduced speed. “Y’all alright?”

Taylor and Christine nod and they continue at best speed. Asterion is catching up fast. He begins firing the sidearm Griggs supplied him. They can hear the bullets wiz by and they hunker down in the boat. Sarge looks at Taylor. “Grab the RPG and shoot that thing!”

Taylor grabs the RPG, takes the safety off and lifts the sight. He waits until Asterion is within range. The grenade whooshes out of the tube. Asterion’s eyes grow wide at the projectile arching his way. He jerks the wheel to the left and the grenade explodes in the rear of the boat sending shrapnel into the engine compartment. Asterion, thrown forward by the blast feels the sting of chards of metal hitting his back and bellows in anger and pain. The flames from the fuel tank are getting close to him. He abandons the boat and swims to shore.

Sarge smiles, “Good job. Hopefully he’s dead.” Taylor starts to throw the spent launcher

away and Sarge stops him. “No, no. Don’t do that.”

“It’s useless now.”

“Not to me. We have to get to another airboat for some swamp skimming.” The boat is in bad

shape, but it is still faster than walking and faster than Asterion can pursue them.

Asterion radios in that he has lost them and his boat is destroyed. Griggs informs him that a patrol boat is racing through the bay with an airboat on board. “It gets swampy again. A fast boat won’t make it.”

“Hurry, they are still limping away.”

“We won’t lose them. We have constant satellite imagery on them.”

Asterion takes the time to consume the prepackaged meals prepared for him. Trent came up with the recipe. Providing concentrated nourishment, vitamins and energy boosting ingredients, they quickly kill the hunger pains he is feeling.

He starts to make his way to the meeting spot. Knee deep in the swamp he struggles against the water, mud and his injury that is still bleeding. That attracts the attention of an alligator several feet long. It rushes and bites down on Asterion’s leg. He roars in pain and slams his hand on the gator’s head. His claws extend and pierce the thick hide and he crushes its head. The jaws slacken and in anger, he rips it in half from the jaws back.

Sarge pulls the boat to the bank of the canal. Steam is rising from the engine compartment and the temperature gauges are in the red. “This is as far as this thing will take us. Gather up all we can carry. We’ll walk the levee to the boat.” They gather up some munitions, food and medicine and trudge through the thick grass keeping a close eye out for alligators and poisonous snakes.

The patrol boat approaches Asterion. The men aboard are looking at the future of warfare for the first time. Most with jaws wide open just stare at him. The Captain orders his men to hoist the airboat off the deck and onto the water. Filled with supplies and weapons it is ready to go.

The captain yells at Asterion, “We have to go, can’t remain here long.”

Asterion nods in acknowledgment. He climbs aboard the airboat and quickly inventories his supplies. Satisfied, he starts the engines and the noise fills the night. He speeds down the canal guided by Griggs.

Exhausted, sweaty and in need of food, the three arrive at a dock where the airboat is tied. Sarge raises his binoculars and scans the horizon. He sees water splash up from time to time and he tells them, “He’s alive and somehow he has gotten another boat. Hunker down!”

Sarge goes full throttle and the airboat accelerates quickly. He navigates the canals as long as he can. Not knowing if this boat can outrun Asterion’s he can’t let up. The pursuit continues well into daylight. Then the engine of their boat bangs to a halt with a cylinder blown off and a piston sticking out. The engine, pushed to the limit for such a long time comes apart.

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