Hell's Own Read online

  Three ships. Stone had shared enough information to suggest it had been coordinated attack. If the man was right, then there was a heap load of trouble building up out in the colony, and they didn’t know if anyone else had survived. If the dome was damaged, then the loss of life--

  No, she wasn’t going to play keeper of the dead. Not unless there was no other choice.

  “Good luck.”

  “Thanks, Sergeant.” Jones flashed a smile and gathered the rest of his group together. Without words they split up, leaving the Marines and their civilians waited for word from the Gunny.

  The older man paused for two minutes, allowing the civilians to vanish down the passageway, then gestured to the left. “Tight formation. We don’t need to make any foolish mistakes here. Got it?”

  “Oorah,” the Marines replied, Cora, included, as one.

  Cora swore, and she wasn’t the only one. Rocks, pieces of wall and ceiling support blocked the passageway ahead, except for a small entrance at the top. Large enough to allow one person at a time through the debris, and only if it hadn’t closed up out of line of sight. “We’re going to have to make that opening larger if we’re all going to get through.” Especially with the equipment, they’d brought with them from Jones’ supplies.

  “Not before we check out what’s going on out there, and see if the weapons stash is blocked.” The Gunny rested one hand on her shoulder. “You up to it?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  “Good, get on it. Keep radio silence unless there’s a problem. Two clicks on the comm.”

  “Understood, Gunny.” She eyeballed the gap and stripped off any equipment not essential to her immediate survival.

  “Don’t take any unnecessary risks out there. You might leave me in a position where I have to rely on Navy over there.” His voice low, the comm set for personal communication only. “Harvard is a damn good pilot, but little full of himself. I’ve talked with him before, he’ll follow orders when he needs to, and he knows the score. We all work together, or we die.”

  “Sounds normal for Navy.” She took a moment to take in the faces of the men she was leaving behind. All men. The only other women in the bar had been patrons, but it wasn’t the first time she’d been the lone female in a team. Marines tended to be top-heavy toward men, though more women joined the navy. “Too wrapped up in themselves.”

  “What do we expect from flyboys?” The Gunny smiled.

  “Nothing but stuffed shirts, all ego, and no stamina.” She completed the standard complaint. “First to the bar, last to pay.”

  If Harvard heard them, he didn’t respond. Just as well, she didn’t want an argument. She took a long look at the men, taking in the various suits they all wore. All but the two civilians wore military grade emergency suits. Strong enough to protect them from immediate damage, but they wouldn’t take a full-on blast from an energy bolt, or a heavy flechette round. If her suit tore climbing through the gap, she’d hunt down the quartermaster who’d issued her damn supplies and remind him why the environmental gear was supposed to be better than those issued to the civilians.

  Standing around, flapping her jaw with the Gunny wasn’t getting the work done. No goodbyes, no long farewells, instead she did what was expected of her. She began the climb over the pile of debris toward the opening, a small light activated on her face mask, enough to give her a soft circle of light ahead of her and give her fair warning about potential hazards.

  Her foot slipped once, but she didn’t move a foot or hand until she had three other points of stability. A small slip would be enough to trigger a rock fall. Inch by inch she half crawled, half climbed her way toward the gap. If the men behind her were talking, it didn’t reach her comm, suggesting either silence or personal communication between two or more.

  Gunny, he’d be watching her until she was no longer in line of sight. Only then would he look away. She didn’t need to see him to know what the older man would do. She’d served with him for five years now, enough time to learn his quirks and be grateful for them. It didn’t matter if his behavior was from the core of the man, or the years spent in service, either way, it didn’t matter. He was one of the best, and she was thankful he was here instead of trapped in the colony when the attack had begun.

  Cora paused at the entrance to the gap.

  Tunnel.

  Fine, it was a blasted tunnel through who knew how deep a blockade it was. The light from her face mask only served to confirm she’d need to belly crawl through the gap and into the darkness. This wasn’t going to be easy, but backing down, asking the Gunny to send another in her place, wasn’t an option. Sure, the man might do it, but then her reputation would be shot. Not a risk she’d take. She closed her eyes for a moment, steadying her nerves. There were no other lifeforms on Pluto, not beyond the ones transported here to build the colony. No weird bugs or snakes she had to watch out for.

  Small mercies, but she was glad of them.

  Her skin crawled, heart raced as she peered into the distance. Not claustrophobic. She repeated the mantra in the back of her mind as she began the elbow, knee, elbow, knee crawl. Sharp points pressed against her suit. Enough to bruise, but not tear the military grade enviro-suit.

  The knowledge didn’t prevent the small voice of doubt or the larger one of fear competing away in the back of her mind.

  Fear didn’t mean you were a coward. It said you were human. Learning to work with fear was something you either managed, or you didn’t. Each time was a new battle, one she never knew if she would win or lose.

  To date, her wins outnumbered her losses, which was all she could ever wish for and remain human.

  Jaw clenched as she made her way slowly through the tunnel, reaching out carefully to locate any problems. She could do this, would manage it. She’d get the answers they needed and return to the group. Then the real work would begin.

  Her fingers found the small lip, which indicated where she needed to go. The exit. Or the tunnel widened. She lifted her head enough to allow the light to spill on the surroundings. Not a widening, but the end of the debris. She grinned and pulled herself through the gap.

  What relief she’d felt at the knowledge of finding the end of the tunnel vanished. The markers which would have allowed her to find the storage was covered but for the first one.

  Damn fall in had locked them out of the extra weapons they would need. Fine. They’d find a way around this. There were other storage points in the colony. Some military, some built up by civilians, such as the merc in their group. Stone. A man she didn’t trust. Something about him, the way he moved, watched her or spoke, all of it added up to tell her the man was dangerous. He’d turn his back on them the first chance he had.

  She pushed the man to the back of her mind as she made her way down the far side of the debris, brushed off her suit, and allowed herself to calm before she approached the door. A quick check of the door showed minor damage, with the power supply still intact, except for the last lock. Not ideal, but she could operate it without power. Depending on what was waiting for her on the other side of the door. If they relied on energy, odds were they wouldn’t look for the manual lock.

  Cora deactivated the light before she ran her fingers over the control panel, listening as the soft sounds told her the security protocol was still active. She paused, taking a deep breath before she reached for the manual lock. Noise, this one had the potential to be louder than the others. If they heard her, whoever they were, it would be over. Just what she needed, a band of aliens or renegades using the cover of fake aliens, waiting for her on the other side of the door.

  She pulled it open, taking care not to trigger any noise source, but eventhen the small sound scraped on her already raw nerves. When she had a gap wide enough to peer through, she listened, double checking for anything on the other side.

  Nothing.

  Not even the background noise she would expect from the colony.

  Cora shifted position, settled her mind and di
d a visual sweep before she stepped back, giving her the chance to replay what she’d seen.

  Damaged and destroyed buildings.

  Destroyed transports.

  Pieces of the dome scattered across the ground, yet the gravity remained. Whatever had happened, they hadn’t taken out the machines producing the near earth gravity the colony maintained.

  What she hadn’t seen was any sign of survivors.

  Or dead.

  Movement, had she seen that over to the left? A distant shadow? She pressed her mask against the gap. No moving, no giving a hint there was someone in the tunnel, or the tunnel existed at all. If someone looked close enough, they’d see the change in the wall, where she’d pushed the door open. Even a crack could then lead to her being spotted, but she had to take the risk.

  Her gaze narrowed as she continued to watch the remains of the colony. Buildings destroyed, little more than crumbled heaps of once-sturdy homes, stores, and offices. At this time of day, based on colony time, the youngest of the children would have been in bed, unless taken out to an event by their parents. Lights flickered here and there, only to either die as she watched or expand into life.

  How many had died?

  If they were dead, what had happened to the bodies?

  If she wanted more answers, it would mean stepping out into the remains of the colony and risk exposing herself to the dangers. Which was what she was paid to do, she reminded herself. She edged the door open another half inch, straining to hear what was going on, her senses on alert as she tried to take into account any and all vibrations beneath her feet.

  A shape caught her attention. Large, on four legs. Bigger than five people put together. The size of an elephant? Yes, that was close to the mark. She’d only seen one elephant in her lifetime. The size and number of legs were the only things the creature had in common with the grey-skinned beast from Earth. A long head, with thick tendrils hanging down from all sides of the beings face. Eyes, if they had any, couldn’t be seen. Teeth. A flash of light played off the long fangs glinting in its wide maw. The skin looked scale covered, light reflecting from not only the scales but a shimmering presence over its body, but not directly on the skin itself. She frowned, trying to understand what she was seeing.

  A suit? Environmental suit?

  Could be, but without moving close enough to get a precise reading.

  It lumbered further into view and shook its massive head, the thick cable like cords flapped around its head, but it wasn’t the odd hair which caught her attention. Behind it, dragged by a harness attached to its back and chest, was a semi-clear cube filled with shapes.

  Human shapes.

  Moving, pressed against the walls of the cage.

  Prisoners?

  She swallowed. Hard.

  Another shape walked into view. Four limbs, a strange creature with a crocodile-like shaped head. Teeth, sharp, ragged in appearance, pressed against its lips, but again there was something over its head and body. The same thin, shimmering bodysuit pulled against its form as it walked on two legs, the arms holding a substantial staff like object with handholds and nodules.

  A weapon?

  Instinct said yes.

  Alright, two different types of aliens. Was the one pulling the cage a beast of burden or an equal who used its strength to help its comrades?

  Cora shivered and pressed one hand against the inside of the door. All she had to do was close it and walk away. Take what she knew back to the men waiting for her. But she couldn’t move. Her hands didn’t obey her, legs refused to move as her heart raced. Fear traced cold fingers up and down the length of her spine as her mind adjusted to what she was seeing.

  A third alien.

  Six limbs. A triangle shaped head moving into a narrow chest and thick back legs. Like the second one, it held a long weapon, but also wore a belt with what could have been a sidearm. First one of the group she’d seen wear anything she could class as clothing. But it wasn’t the legs, or weapons which held her attention.

  Wings.

  No, she couldn’t be seeing this. She’d made a mistake, the creature couldn’t have freaking wings.

  It turned its head in her direction, small lights dancing in its three almond shaped eyes as its wings stretched out, scales glinting across their multicolored expanse.

  Oh, hell no.

  It took a step closer. Her heart threatened to burst from her chest, but still, she held position, grateful for the lack of oxygen. Nothing left to cause a ripple of hair, or clothing. No breeze, or fan moving to disrupt the air. Only stillness.

  Whatever it sought, the moment was gone as the creature turned away and joined the others.

  Sergeant Cora Bloodlaw waited until they were out of line of sight before she allowed herself a fresh breath. Her limbs trembled with the need to remain in place, the crack in the opening not enough for most humans to spot her, but they weren’t dealing with humans.

  This was the other. The unknown. And with them came dangers they had never before encountered.

  With the door closed, she edged back through the opening, taking care not to make a sound as she crawled her way back to the others, mind racing. Aliens. Freaking aliens. Damn, it was one thing to dream of first contact, another to come face to face with it like this. Aliens. Not human. Monsters.

  The other.

  Jakob hit the floor, the breath knocked from his body, vision blurred from the crack of head against the floor. His ribs burned, back ached, and hips protested from the force which had sent him to the ground. He tried to breathe, struggling to deal with the pain in his chest. Move. He couldn’t stay here forever. He’d die if he didn’t move. The suit wouldn’t protect him long term. If he were at risk, then the others would face the same danger. No one would be able to withstand the damage for long.

  Low moans, soft cries, whimpers of pain, and fear reached him through the inbuilt comm as he blinked and tried to get his body to obey him. His legs didn’t work, but he could feel them. Anything else was a blessing. He rolled onto his side and bit back a whimper. He wasn’t going to allow his body to dictate to him what he could and couldn’t do. Shake it off, wasn’t that what the coach told him when he was knocked down during a game? Not a tussle this time but survival.

  “Jakob?” A pain filled word.

  He rose, unsteady, limbs trembling. His suit. Was it damaged? No, he’d feel it, or the internal alert would ring out.

  “My suit. God, my suit.” An older woman, a wail of fear. With the dome compromised, hiding the risk which came with a damaged suit would remain foremost in the minds of the colonists. “Help me, please, help me. I need a repair kit. Another suit. I’m losing air.”

  “It’s alright, we’ll make it. Trust me, we’ll make it.” The woman’s husband? Friend? Lover? It didn’t matter. The danger remained real, one he had to face and accept if he wanted a chance to survive.

  “Gail?” He blinked, taking a precious moment to search for his friend. “Gail, answer me.” Fear clenched his belly. Had she fallen? Hurt her head? He turned, searching for a sign of her amid the dust and chaos. He wouldn’t leave her behind. “Gail?” His head swam. Small lights continued to dance across his vision as he tried to make sense of the mess. Bodies. The living and the dying pressed together, and only the dead were without fear.

  “Here.” She leaned against the wall, her breathing ragged as she straightened. She coughed, the sound carried across the personal commlink, then pressed her fingers to the headpiece, then smiled as she looked around. “That was interesting. Don’t want to go through this again.”

  “Can’t stay here. Need to get to the ground floor.” He didn’t disagree with her. The last thing he wanted to do was hang around for another shake or worse. “We’ll be safer in the tunnels.”

  “Next shake might bring the building down. Not only this one but the others in the area. We have to keep moving.”

  “I know.” He reached for her. Together. They’d make it out together. “We won’t s
tay here, and I won’t leave you behind.” His fingers tangled with hers, and he squeezed. Reassurance, but he wasn’t confident if he’d done it to soothe her nerves, or his. Either way, it didn’t matter. They would remain together and find their way to the safety of the tunnels.

  Nothing else was acceptable.

  Stone frowned. What the hell was the Gunny doing, letting Jones head for safety without them? Foolish. Jones was a decent man. Calm enough to remain in control of a bunch of terrified colonists, sure. If there was enough money in it for him. Or he shot the first one who disobeyed him. Neither a recipe for success under the current circumstances. Stone rolled his eyes but kept silent. No matter what happened, he had to get to his ship, which meant working with the jarheads for the foreseeable future. Navy might be of use if he could get the man on his own long enough to present him with the idea. Besides, once he was close enough to the bay where his vessel was hidden, he’d slip away from the group and not look back. Why would he need to? He didn’t need the idiot Marines on his tail, not with what he had stored in his cargo holds.

  His gaze flicked to the Gunny, then away. His ship should be safe, far from the center of the colony, and on the opposite side to the military-run port.

  Gunny caught his glance and inclined his head before he turned his attention elsewhere.

  Did the man trust him?

  Hell no. Not a chance, no matter what he might want to believe. He didn’t need the Gunny or his people. He needed to get the hell out of here before whoever was behind the attack decided to explore Pluto and pick off any survivors. People who attacked worlds, or small colonies like Pluto, didn’t leave survivors. They wiped them out, or they collected them for whatever they had in mind.