The Retrieval Read online

  This is a work of fiction. The events and characters described herein are imaginary and are not intended to refer to specific places or living persons. The opinions expressed in this manuscript are solely the opinions of the author and do not represent the opinions or thoughts of the publisher. The author has represented and warranted full ownership and/or legal right to publish all the materials in this book.

  Precipice: The Retrieval

  Book Two

  All Rights Reserved.

  Copyright © 2013 Kevin J. Howard

  v2.0

  Cover Photo © 2013 JupiterImages Corporation. All rights reserved - used with permission.

  This book may not be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in whole or in part by any means, including graphic, electronic, or mechanical without the express written consent of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Outskirts Press, Inc.

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  Outskirts Press and the “OP” logo are trademarks belonging to Outskirts Press, Inc.

  PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

  This book is dedicated to my wife and editor Melissa Howard of FlatPointEditing Services, not just for her amazing editing but for being an amazing wife. Also to my good friends Justin Van Uden, Michael Medve, Matt Hunt, and Gene Youngblood; true characters, every one of them.

  1

  There was a moment of silence as they let Andrews’ death sink in. How they’d just killed the man that had murdered over three-hundred innocent lives, and then waited for Travis and his men to finish the job. He had waited in the train station to ambush them without any honor, eager to take care of one last problem before he and his goons could start their perfect world. His world was built off sexually assaulting Christina, otherwise condemning her to a fate worse than death. So no, Andrews most definitely deserved to be sucked out into the Valles Marineris, to have his eyes explode from his head. He deserved much worse, but they were on a time crunch.

  Travis turned from the window, not wanting to look down at the large empty hangar. He could picture the men he’d worked beside for the last year as they clawed at the door. They stepped over each other like caged animals as the overhead lights went from yellow to red. A shiver shot down his spine. He turned from such savage imagery and faced his unit. Seven little Indians left. Five highly-trained military officers, one scientist, and the last of the Martian security force stood together with the common goal of getting the hell off this red rock. To get themselves back home.

  “Now that that business is done, let’s get this show moving. Time is of the essence. I want Morgan and Alvin to contact the second facility. Check on Dr. Hoffman and those HR cats, and fill them in. They may bitch and moan, company property and all that, but they need to know what’s going on. Now, TJ, Jerome, and Dr. Zatzkin why don’t you go to the cafeteria and load up on food.”

  “Forrest.”

  “What?”

  “My name, it’s Forrest.” Dr. Forrest Zatzkin smiled. “I think we’re beyond professional handles at this point.”

  “Okay, Forrest. Welcome to the club.”

  Forrest gave a nod and headed off, following TJ and Jerome down the stairwell to the cafeteria.

  “What about us?” Christina stood from her chair.

  “I need you to rest. Sean and I are going to have a look at this ship.”

  “Boys club huh?” Christina gave them the middle finger and a playful wink before sitting back down. “I’ll just watch you work from up here.”

  “We’re going to need the ship’s access codes and guidance chips.” Sean turned to the control boards and grabbed the ship’s data logs. “I can access the ship, but I’m not going to guarantee we’ll be able to make it to Earth. This mother flies automatically, following a guidance beacon from TransWorld. I doubt it’s been manually flown in some time.”

  “Let’s find out for sure.” Travis motioned toward the stairs.

  Travis followed Sean down into the hangar, looking up at the massive ship. Sean stopped behind the ship and entered a code into a panel beside the lower cargo hold. He hit the green enter button, stepped back, and nodded with satisfaction as the large cargo door slowly lowered to the ground. There was a loud mechanical whine as the door settled to a stop. Sean hurried up the ramp, reviewing the data specs on the ship.

  “How much can this bird carry?” Travis asked as he looked up at the cavernous cargo bay.

  “Fifteen-thousand tons of supplies, maybe more, and three-thousand passengers, give or take. The air tanks are more than adequate, but there’s no food storage and very limited living quarters. It’s going to be a rough thirty days.”

  “Well hopefully we’ll only have to make the trip once then. But before we do, we’ll have to unload all this shit. We need all the space we can possibly spare.”

  There were hundreds of boxes; large crates stacked one on top of the other. Things the scientific facility had intended to send back to Earth: damaged or outdated equipment, experiments, and mountains of data. All of this was now worthless. Once it had been so important. Millions of dollars were spent to study the effects of this and that in the Martian atmosphere, but now there was no one left to give a damn. All of their precious time was now just a waste of space. For now, at least, it provided a good visual backdrop to how much they could bring back. Sean and Travis just squeezed through the boxes, both taken back by the available space on the other side, which seemed to stretch out for a hundred yards. Sean opened the thick, steel door at the end of the cargo hull, headed up a spiral staircase, and entered the secondary cargo bay which was primarily used for passenger transport. There were thousands of seats set up in neat little rows, facing forward as if set up for a press conference. An odd sensation overcame him; something that stopped him in his tracks. Sean turned and looked at the empty seats, so many of them.

  “Sean?”

  “Yeah, let’s get up to the cockpit.”

  Sean turned around and noticed a single flight of stairs. He climbed them and headed down a long hallway with small rooms on either side, just cots and blankets, no frills or luxury. At the end of the hall was a kitchen, completely void of food. Beyond the kitchen was another smaller row of blue padded chairs. Seating appeared to be set up for the primary crew, scientists, and whatever V.I.P. might want to come and visit the facility upon completion. These seats were larger, thickly padded, and had all the comforts of first class travel. Sean led Travis up yet another, third set of stairs. Fifteen metal stairs that led to another thick, steel door.

  “It’s about time.” Sean entered a code into the keypad beside the door, stepping back as the door disappeared into the wall. “Now this is comfort.” Sean let a goofy grin take over his face at the sight of the large cockpit. There were only three chairs; one stationed on either side of him at the control panels, navigator, and internal systems; the third chair, set dead-center at the main control board, was the cushiest captain’s chair he’d ever seen. Like something out of a space movie he’d seen as a kid.

  “Looks a bit overwhelming.”

  “Easy for you to say, you’re not the one that has to fly the damn thing.” Sean had meant it to be a joke, but he certainly didn’t feel like laughing. He stood behind the chair and rested his hands upon the padding. It was all very intimidating. He took a slow, deep breath and sat down. The chair was actually pretty uncomfortable, considering the luxurious look it conveyed; the padding a bit thin on the seat. “Bringing the main power online.”

  Travis took a seat as the ship began to rumble, gripping the armrests and watching the control panels as they lit up. He watched the lights dance and twitch. The screens showed electric readouts and internal system diagnostics. It
was all Greek to him.

  “Ship’s internal structure is sound and intact, electrical systems operational. Oxygen and fuel levels are full. All six engines are fully functional and ready to burn. All we need now is a campfire and some marshmallows.” Sean turned in his chair, arms folded about his chest.

  “You boys are having fun I see.” Christina stood in the doorway, holding onto the doorframe for balance.

  Sean turned from Travis and extinguished his smile, letting the excitement of a possible escape slip away. He and Travis were on speaking terms due to a lack of options, but that didn’t mean they were buddies. Sean wouldn’t let his good humor take control of his judgment again. But it was hard not to give in. It felt like the good old days, back when life made sense. When he’d follow orders and do the flying. Missions had objectives, a beginning and an end. So far, this life had been filled with nothing but disappointment. Not anymore. He and Christina were back together; free to pursue the life their previous incarceration had denied them.

  “I have to get the crates taken off the ship.” Travis stood, reaching out to take hold of Christina’s hand. “You need to get your rest little darling.” Travis helped her into his seat, holding on for balance. The ship’s vibrations made it hard for him to get around.

  “I’m powering down the engine cycles. I already know they’re functional.” Sean spoke without looking over his shoulder.

  “Thanks. I’m going to get the loader. You two keep checking the ship for whatever we need to take off.”

  Travis gave a nod and left the cockpit, leaving Christina and Sean alone and unsupervised for the first time in a very, very long time. Sean felt like a schoolboy with a crush, unsure how to act, scratching at his elbow out of sheer nervousness. He pretended to be completely focused on the engine crosschecks, but he noted every breath, every subtle movement. He nearly leapt from his chair as she stood behind him, resting both hands upon his shoulders.

  “You don’t have to pretend.” Christina leaned forward and whispered into his ear. “We don’t have to be afraid anymore.”

  Sean turned in his chair to face her, looking up into the sweetest eyes he’d ever seen, so warm and inviting. She leaned forward to kiss him, falling to her knees while wincing in pain. Sean fell from his seat as he caught her. They both stayed on the ground in each other’s arms. It had been a clumsy mistake that got them there, but the end result was worth it. Christina blocked the lingering soreness from her chest and kissed him. She held his cheeks with her hands, never wanting to let go.

  2

  Four hours of hard labor, but all of it had been done with an eager smile. He felt like one of those old cartoons he used to watch as a child, whistling while swaying his head from side-to-side, driving the loader on and off the ship to make room for whatever they may need. Travis couldn’t help it. Aside from surviving an attack from their previous head of security, not to mention the death of over three-hundred innocent men, he felt pretty damn good. Did he feel guilty? Of course, but in his line of work you’re trained to keep moving. Harboring the past meant tripping over it later, and a military man can’t afford to be clumsy. Besides, every large crate he pulled off the ship, every heavy metallic step, up and down the long ramp, was one foot closer to seeing his wife and son again. To see Logan laugh and play without a five-second transmission delay, and to hold him in his arms. Every little thing he’d missed while imprisoned on the fourth planet from the sun. Bedtimes, reading stories, kissing boo-boos...coming face-to-face with hell itself didn’t dampen his spirits.

  “Hope you like mush.” Jerome yelled as he pushed a metal cart with a giant vat set dead center. He held on as best he could, while constantly having to reposition as it slid from side-to-side. “We drained the machine, so it should be more than enough if we eat two meals a day.”

  “And there’s only a few boxes left of dry goods: crackers, oatmeal cookies, and such. Plus we found a box of bubblegum and chocolate candies.” TJ set the three boxes he was carrying beside the ship. “I think those security pricks weren’t being entirely honest with our food shipments. They were hoarding the best for themselves.” TJ gave a guilty smile as Alvin and Forrest entered the room. “No offense, Alvin.”

  “None taken.”

  Alvin and Dr. Zatzkin had a tension about them, their expressions tired and heavy.

  “What’s the word from the HR folks?” Travis asked as he stepped off the ramp.

  “Silent.” Alvin sighed. “Everyone’s gone.”

  Travis didn’t much care for Dr. Hoffman, but he didn’t deserve to die. Travis walked the loader into its storage bay within the ship and shut it down, lifting the chest bar to exit the exoskeleton frame. He stepped out of the machine and joined his unit by the base of the cargo ramp. Travis bent down and picked up the three boxes of dry goods, surprised by their lightness.

  “What about the other scientists?” Travis asked over his shoulder as he walked up the ramp. He set the boxes down just inside the door, knowing they’d just dance about and get smashed during takeoff, but crackers were crackers, crumbled or whole. “Will they be okay while we’re gone? It’ll be thirty days before we get there, but it’ll take four months to get back. No need to run on full power on the return.”

  “I’ve discussed this with the others and they’ve all voted to proceed. I think they’re looking forward to the isolation. Free to do research and work toward the terraforming of the planet without any corporate agendas or hidden itineraries.”

  “Sounds like you’re looking forward to the end of the world.” Morgan gave him a playful laugh.

  “It’s just nice to have our hands untied. Too many of the experiments they demanded were completely pointless and time consuming. Their eyes were fixated on profits and not advancement.” Forrest nodded, closing his eyes to take in the possibilities. “I too am looking forward to the freedom to continue my work.”

  “Are you sure you want to come with us?” Travis could read the longing in his face, the urge to get back on that train and do what he was brought there to do, if the train wasn’t stuck on the Martian surface with three dying security officers inside. Forrest was a fish out of water amongst them, not a field man.

  “No, someone from the scientific facility needs to be present. There are so many items we need to continue on here, and there is too much room for error. Even a list would be a waste of time to someone that isn’t familiar with the experiments and needs of our equipment.” Forrest felt better about his involvement, finding reason to keep him on the path instead of hiding in his lab as he always had. Had a problem? Turn to science. Had trouble with a relationship? Turn to science. Not this time. “Luckily the TransWorld facility has a huge stockpile of all the equipment we could ever need.”

  “Thank God for small favors then. Who knows how much time we’ll have once we touchdown.” Travis had meant to stay positive, but he couldn’t sugarcoat what he didn’t have a proper understanding of. “At least we know where we’re going.”

  “What about survivors?” Jerome looked about the room. “How are we going to round them up?”

  “Yeah, maybe we should land toward a large city.”

  “That would be too dangerous, Morgan. For all we know, they could be swarming with those things. Besides, the largest city close enough to TransWorld is Richmond, and Annie says it’s damn near burnt to the ground. Now I think our safest bet is to land as close to the facility as possible. We know there are weapons, fuel, and at least some survivors there.” Travis could read the disappointment and concern on their faces. “Look, first let’s land and secure our supplies. Once we’re loaded up, we’ll scout for civilians.”

  “Rise and shine campers!” Sean stood at the back of the cargo hold, cupping his hands so his voice could carry through the cavernous storage to the men on the ramp. “Ship prep has been completed. So whenever you’re all ready.”

  3

  This was no longer a world Gene Youngblood understood. It was a dark, desolate shithole fil
led with monsters and fire, like something his grandma used to preach to him every Sunday. “Fire and brimstone shall fall from the sky”, she’d hold out her hands and wave them about. “You’ll be judged by the all mighty” she’d say to Gene, driving the sentence home with a wooden spoon to his ass. At the time she was just that, a wrinkled pain-in-the-ass he was forced to visit once a week. But now he wondered. Gene had witnessed plenty of hellfire from his house in Millbrook, standing on his porch with a shotgun and a beer. Weeks of watching the tall fuckers and their snarling dogs walking off into the woods with his neighbors. The tall, lanky ones stood over eight feet tall and their eyes glowed bright neon green. The dog-like beasts were vicious, fast, muscular, and hairless, with the quickness of a cheetah. He’d had enough. Gene had hopped in his truck and drove the many miles from his small house to Loretta’s lovely farm, plowing over a good share of those tall, lanky monsters along the road. But his rig could handle it. His baby could handle anything, and that’s why he’d made such a good living as a trucker. So he shifted into high gear and plowed through all roadblocks and debris, making his way to her house, Loretta’s house.

  It took him a good solid week to get to Loretta’s door, charging up the yard with his shotgun in hand. One of those flat-faced mother fuckers had been pounding on the front door. Gene walked right up behind it and gave it two full barrels of southern hospitality.

  “Loretta!” Gene yelled from the porch, turning back to look across the lawn. The loud bang from his .22 caliber had gathered some more of those bastards. Gene raised his shotgun and took aim. He pulled the trigger with a dead-on shot into its face. “Open up baby girl!” Gene shouted, kicking the door behind him with the bottom of his size twelve boot.

  The door opened wide and out marched Loretta, blonde hair blowing out behind her like a cape. She held a machine gun tight to her shoulder and opened fire, moving the spray of bullets across the lawn until every living critter, other than her older brother, was dead.