The Void

CHAPTER 27

Alex had gathered everyone together, and the HAWCs had their guns trained on the closing barrier of primordial fog. Alex stood side-on, trying to see through the murk and also trying to find the Russians.

“Where’ve they gone?” Sam asked.

“They’re out there somewhere. I can feel it,” Alex responded.

Monroe quickly glanced down at his wrist monitor. “Movement, boss. Multiple signatures. Going around us but staying just out of sight.”

“The Russians?” Casey asked over her shoulder.

“No, Morg, and out of our sight, but I’m betting not out of theirs,” Alex said. He couldn’t see them, but he could sense them — big bodies, moving silently. He didn’t need to see them to know what they were.

He half turned to Monroe. “How many?”

“Three, maybe four,” the young HAWC said, looking from his monitor to the mist.

Sam stood alongside Alex. “We’re too exposed here — we need cover.” He pointed. “I can hear them now.” He pointed with the muzzle of his gun this time. “Concentrating over there.”

“They’re trying to herd us away from the Orlando,” Alex said. “Morag said they disarmed Erikson before taking her.”

“She dead?” Casey turned.

Alex nodded. “These things don’t take prisoners.”

Casey bristled. “Neither do I, you fucking sons of bitches.”

Sam grunted. “I don’t like it. Out here, they have the advantage. We need time to plan our next move.”

Alex knew he was right. “HAWCs, we are leaving. Cover to the Orlando.”

The HAWCs formed up in two lines, weapons pointed outwards, and the civilians on the inside.

“What about the Russians?” Casey frowned.

“We got bigger problems.” Alex gripped his RG3. “Dial it up, let’s make some space, people — setting three.” Alex and his HAWCs moved the size of their projectile darts up to a dime-sized plug.

“On my order,” Alex yelled.

“HUA!”

“Fire!” Alex roared the word, and the HAWCs responded.

The surrounding brume billowed and whirled as the darts blasted outwards at a rate of hundreds per second. There was the sound of strikes out in the gloom, but no one was sure whether any of it was hitting the Morg, or one of the numerous tree-like blobs that seemed to be springing up everywhere.

“Move it.” Alex led them on, and the HAWCs crab-walked toward the downed shuttle.

Together they moved like a single creature shepherding the remaining civilians toward the open cockpit door of the Orlando. One after the other, Alex and Sam pushed them inside, and the HAWCs followed until just Alex remained. He took a last look around and then folded himself inside.

“Seal that door.” Alex pointed. Monroe pushed the door shut, and immediately darkness descended on them. There were still a few lights on the cockpit console, meaning some battery life remained, and perhaps something they could use.

Anne Peterson rushed to the one of the consoles. “Russ, there’s still some power.” She started to flick switches.

Russell Burrows edged in next to her. “Ripley might still be conscious.”

“Who?” Casey Franks asked.

“Uh, the Orlando’s… main computer. It’s called Ripley.” Burrows looked up. “If she’s still working, then we can run some diagnostics. Maybe even find out what happened up there.”

“Ripley, cool,” Casey snorted.

“Fingers crossed,” Anne said, rapidly flicking switches and calibrating dials. “I’m going to try to bring her back online.”

“Excellent.” Alex turned to his remaining HAWCs. “Dunsen, keep a lookout. Sam, do a quick search and see if there’s anything else we can use. Everyone else, just stay the hell out of the way.”

Alex saw Morag staring wide-eyed out into the darkness. She turned to smile weakly at him. Behind her visor her face was streaked with perspiration, making her red hair sit like a cap over her forehead.

He nodded to her. “Don’t worry, we’ll get out of here.”

“I know we will,” she said and then looked away, and he could tell she didn’t believe a word of it.