Offworld (33 page)

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Authors: Robin Parrish

Tags: #Christian, #Astronauts, #General, #Christian fiction, #Science Fiction, #Suspense, #Fiction, #Religious, #Futuristic

BOOK: Offworld
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Whatever else he may have been, Roston wasn't a man at his limit.
Yet. So Chris hoped negotiation might still be an option.

"Very well," Roston said.

A moment passed and Terry was pulled from one of the jeeps
and stood on the side of the bridge as instructed. Roston was next
to Terry, and Roston was a good head taller than Terry. But then,
most men were. He also noted that Terry's hands were bound in
front with zip-ties.

"Terry?" said Chris through the radio.

"Chris," Terry replied.

Chris glanced at Trisha, who closed her eyes briefly before snapping them back open.

"How are you?" Chris asked.

"Same as ever."

"Still infuriating all the right people?" Chris asked, keeping a close
eye on Roston's movements.

"You know me," replied Terry.

"You don't look any worse than you did after that day we spent
at Tholus Summit," Chris said, referring to a day the two of them had
taken the rover out to a remote location on Mars.

"That should do," said Roston, taking back the radio. "Now come out
where I can see you, Captain, or this conversation has no future."

Chris stepped out from behind the railcar and into plain view.
He turned off the radio, clipped it to his belt, and grasped his gun
with both hands.

"I want a trade," he shouted, loud enough for Roston to hear.

Immediately, two dozen men lined the edge of the bridge, weapons brought to bear on the railroad tracks where Chris stood.

"Make sure your people stay up there where I can see them, Colonel," Chris shouted, "or your missing men will never be found."

"You'd be impressed at how efficient my soldiers are at finding
things," Roston shouted back in reply.

"You could comb the surface of the whole planet and come up
"
empty-handed, I promise you."

I believe you, Captain. All right then, a trade. Kessler for the
location of my men. But after you have him back, I want your word
that you will take him and go. Leave Texas, get as far away from
Houston as you possibly can."

Chris hesitated. "You already know I won't agree to that."

Roston's expression darkened. But rather than be angry, he
appeared exasperated, impatient. "Has it not occurred to you that I
might be trying to help you? That it's in the interests of the safety of
you and your crew to stay away?"

All right," Chris replied. "I'll consider it. But I want your word
that you won't follow us or try to subdue us again."

"You have it," said Roston without hesitation. "We'll keep our
distance. But I can't make the same promise if you come looking
for us."

"Then we've reached a stalemate, again." Chris' eyes shifted for
a split second to something beneath the bridge, before returning his
gaze to Roston and his men.

Roston, for his part, nodded at a nearby soldier, whom Chris
noticed for the first time was the only one up there, aside from Roston, who wasn't wearing a ski mask. He didn't stand out in any other
way that Chris could see in the early afternoon light. He'd have to
get closer to make out details.

At Roston's nod, the soldier raised a single arm and began pointing in various directions. The men atop the bridge split instantly and
took their cues, running to take up new positions, some of them
creeping closer to the edges of the railroad basin.

Roston spoke up again. "I'm afraid keeping you away is worth
more to me than getting my men back. You're leaving me little choice
here, Captain. I can't let you get any closer to Houston."

Chris swallowed. "Either way, I'm getting Terry back. Now!"

At Chris' signal, several things happened at once.

Owen, from a remote location not too far away, began firing
his rifle with trained precision, creating chaos as a spray of bullets
chipped cement off the side barrier of the bridge that stood between
Roston and Burke.

There was lots of shouting from Roston and his men, as Terry
stepped up onto that same barrier the very second the bullets stopped,
and took a mad leap over the edge.

As Terry fell, a black jeep burst forward from beneath the bridge,
straddling the second railroad track. Terry's legs clomped hard onto
the roof of the jeep and he grabbed the front edge with his bound
hands, holding tight.

Mae was at the wheel, and it showed; the car veered wildly from
one side of the tracks to the other at breakneck speed, and she seemed
to be having trouble remembering where to find the brake pedal.

As Owen peppered the bridge with more gunshots, Chris dove
across to the opposite side of the tracks, narrowly avoiding being hit
by Mae. She found the brakes just long enough for him to get in the
passenger's seat as Trisha ran to get in the back. Terry slid down and
snaked through the other rear passenger window, never touching the
ground. Mae was already driving again by the time he was seated.

"Put your foot all the way down!" Chris hollered at Mae.

She complied and the jeep lurched violently.

Chris turned to see that they were not being followed; Roston's
men were scrambling to get back in their vehicles and give chase. It
would be another minute or more before they were able to navigate
down to the train tracks, and by then their single vehicle would be
out of sight.

Mae whipped the jeep to the left as they approached the school,
and it climbed the soft hill until she slammed on the brakes again
under an overgrowth of tall trees. The second jeep waited there.

"Nice driving," Terry remarked as Trisha cut him free of his
bonds.

Mae still held tightly to the steering wheel, as if she might die if
she turned loose. She didn't look back at him, but said, "First time."

"No kidding?" Terry joked, smiling.

Chris spoke into the radio one last time. "Your men are in the
women's restroom at the Wal-Mart adjacent to Parkdale Mall." The
mall was a few miles to the north off Highway 287, not far from the
fairgrounds. It was also in the opposite direction of Burke's intended
route out of town.

"Well played, Captain," came Roston's cool reply "I underestimated
you. It won't happen again."

"Whatever you're doing," Chris said, "whatever this is about I'm
going to stop you."

Chris switched off the radio before anything else could be said.

"Move it, everyone," Chris barked, then added in a softer tone,
"Mae ... you can let go."

Stiff and slow, she turned loose of the wheel and stumbled out of
the car, the shell-shocked look on her face not disappearing.

"Where's Beech?" Terry asked.

"Hiding," Trisha replied. "We'll pick him up on our way out of
town."

Everything seemed to freeze for a moment as Chris and Terry came
face-to-face outside of the jeep. Chris frowned, crossing his arms.

"So .. " Chris stared at him, a stern look on his face.

Terry looked back, half frowning, his hands in his pockets and
his eyes not quite meeting Chris'. "Yeah," he said.

Chris held his harsh gaze a moment longer, then reluctantly softened. "Okay, then."

Terry smiled and looked up, his body relaxing. "Okay."

Trisha marched between them, rolling her eyes and shaking her
head. "Boys .. .

"I'm just glad you had the presence of mind to know what I meant
by Tholus Summit," said Chris.

"Took me a second, but I got there," replied Terry, grinning.

Chris took the driver's seat of the jeep, and the others moved
to follow.

But Mae appeared behind Terry and whacked him across the
back of his head. "Dumbhead!" she shouted.

Terry rubbed his head as she marched away to the other jeep.
"Yeah,Iknow, Iam .."

"Enough fooling around," said Chris. "It'll be night in a few hours,
and Roston's men will be here any minute. We need to find someplace to bed down-"

Just as the words were leaving his lips, their surroundings seemed
to blink.

Chris fell through nothing, through something like gray storm clouds. It was like free-falling into a bottomless pit; there was nothing
beneath him that he could see, and he descended for what felt like
five full minutes. It was freezing cold, and dampness hung heavy in
the air as he dropped. He waved his arms about, hoping that something would appear that he could grab onto. But as he fell farther
and farther, there was no end in sight.

"Help!" he allowed himself to shout. He refused to scream in fear
or panic. But if any of the others were experiencing the same thing
he was, maybe they weren't far away.

The silent reply was a deafening roar of wind, rushing past his
ears as he flew downward through the clouds.

There was another blink and he was sitting in the driver's seat of
the jeep again. But he was shivering from the cold he'd experienced,
and his T-shirt clung to his skin, the moisture from the clouds having
soaked through it.

Directly in front of the two jeeps was the spinning dark mass
they called the void and it had shrunk. Now it was just a little bigger
than the jeep. The four of them watched in stunned silence until it
disappeared without a sound.

 
FOURTEEN

Evening in Anahuac, Texas, was sticky and uncomfortable.

The tiny township rested at the southern tip of Lake Anahuac,
which was more than four times the size of the town itself. It was a
detour from their Highway 10 route to Houston-not so far it took
them terribly out of their way, but obscure enough to allow them to
stop and catch their collective breath. They couldn't afford to stay
more than the night, Chris told them, but even he was tired. Houston
would he their destination first thing in the morning.

Without power in the small town, the night sky was alive with
thousands of stars and a dazzlingly white moon, brighter than they'd
ever seen it from Earth.

Houston was less than fifty miles away, and the bright beacon of
light lit up the sky like a perfectly columned spotlight shining clown
from an orbiting spaceship. But unlike a normal spotlight, it lost no
strength as it traveled. As high and far as they could see, it was just
as strong as it was low on the horizon. They knew from Roston's
words that it had to be coming from within Houston proper, though it was impossible to be any more specific without a closer look. Even
zooming in with Owen's satellite imagery didn't help; the light was
simply too intense, blocking out most of the town with its brilliant
radiance.

They selected a ranch on the north end of town, right on the edge
of a lake. A large farmhouse would provide shelter for sleep, while the
barn would give them a place to hide their two stolen jeeps, in case
Roston and his men were tracking them through satellite imagery.
Approaching the farm was like stepping into the past; it boasted few
of the modern technologies they were accustomed to.

The minute they'd parked inside the barn, Chris instructed Trisha
to go inside and get some rest. She gratefully, and wordlessly, obliged.
He'd never seen her so at pains to hide her exhaustion and stiffness.
She looked like she'd been squashed beneath a tank.

Terry got out of the other jeep and set off for the lake's shoreline,
only a few dozen yards away. Mae stopped him, and Chris thought
he heard her mumble something about being glad Terry was back,
before she turned and followed Trisha inside the house.

Owen and Chris stood inside the barn, waiting as the others
dispersed. Hay bales propelled their distinct scent up Chris' nose,
and he wanted to leave the barn like everyone else. But he waited,
wanting to ask Owen for one last thing before he turned in.

"We need to make sure there are no tracking devices on these
things." Chris nodded toward the jeeps. `'And since you know better
than any of us what to look for ..."

"I'll check them over," said Owen, "and take an inventory of
whatever supplies they contain." He looked Chris up and clown,
thoughtfully. "You did well back there, Chris."

Chris was surprised at the compliment. "Thanks."

"Burt don't underestimate Roston," Owen continued. "He let us
go without giving much of a chase. My impression is that he's got a
keen mind and an intimate understanding of battlefield mechanics.
I believe he's testing you, feeling you out."

"I'll keep it in mind," Chris replied, and then froze mid-thought.
He regarded his friend. "Beech, you don't know this guy, do you?"

"I've heard his name a few times. I'm vaguely aware of his reputation, and I know he's well respected among the military. But I don't
know anything about him personally."

Chris hesitated. "You're not holding out on me, are you?"

Owen stood up to his full height. "That's a mistake I won't repeat,
Commander. You have my word; you know everything about Roston
that I know."

Chris softened. All right. Let me know if you find anything on
the jeeps and then try to get some rest. Tomorrow's going to be an
awfully big day."

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