Author’s note:
Hey everybody. Yes, I’m still around. And finally writing again. It’s time to start getting this story wrapped up. I know no one’s going to be reading this tonight, but happy Halloween anyway.
For those of you who have never read any of the Journey Of St. Laurent before: You are now reading an online serial pulp novel. If you didn’t start at the beginning, you may want to do so.Chapter 1: Down By The Bay. In fact, if you are new to the site, you probably want to start with the first novel, Oasis. If you want to know just as soon as I’ve posted something new, you can watch the RSS feed or follow me on Twitter.
59: Distraction & Chaos
My brain did a somersault. Holy crap, it’s Rhett. At least it was Rhett, before.
I put on the brakes to give myself a heartbeat to think. Trapped between aliens and a zombie. No time to freak out. Just keep breathing.
An alien appeared around the far side of the rock pile.
Rhett marched toward me.
The alien raised its weapon and pointed it toward the virus-controlled Rhett.
I instinctively took aim at the guard.
The alien fired. A chunk of flesh sizzled off the back of Rhett’s thigh.
I squeezed the firing handle thing and must have missed my target by a good three feet. It didn’t help that the stupid extraterrestrial gun recoiled in the wrong direction.
It didn’t matter that I missed. The green coward threw itself into reverse and scampered for cover.
Rhett spun and lurched toward the retreating guard.
I never did decide exactly why I wanted Rhett to survive a little longer. Maybe I had a lingering bit of camaraderie for the big guy and didn’t want him shot up, even though I knew he was technically dead. Maybe I was just being selfish and wanted his walking corpse to distract the aliens from me as long as possible. Either way, the correct course of action was clear.
If he stays in the open like this, they’ll put him down in no time. If I can just get him to follow me again, I could lead him back out of the little clearing.
I restarted my run, aiming to pass just out of reach behind Rhett.
More of the harsh alien shouting echoed around me. The whole pack would be on top of me any second.
I swung the long alien gun and struck Rhett in the back.
He whipped around and took a surprisingly fast swipe at me.
I didn’t wait to see if he was going to chase me or return to his pursuit of the alien guard. Instead I headed for cover.
That’s about the best I can do.
More flashes of alien gunfire lit the room behind me. The high ceiling seemed lower and lower as the giant room filled with smoke.
A pained alien scream cut above the rest of the shouting.
Hopefully that’s one of those jerks getting bitten.
All the crates at this end of the cavern were either coated with or turned into rubble by falling debris. I wondered what the army had used to level and seal the entrance like this.
I crawled, crouched and scrambled my way toward the collapsed end of the room, doing everything I could to stay in the shadows. The further I proceeded, the less light I had to navigate.
Another scream of pain echoed in chorus with the shouts of command and anger. It was music to my ears.
I swung wide and headed general direction of the entrance I hadn’t used. It was my best shot of getting out of here.
By now, errant plasma had lit at least a dozen crates on fire. The smoke ceiling edged lower and lower. It wouldn’t be long before visibility dropped to nil. And of course there was also that little problem of all the breathable oxygen getting used up by the flames.
Another minute or two of sneaking around and I saw five of the alien-hover-death-avocado-drones. All pointed toward the entrance rather than the room interior.
Two motionless forms lay prostrate in the center of the doorway. I decided they had been the scouts that the survivalist camp had sent to check out the second old mine entrance.
I knew there’d be no way to slip past the hovering drones, so I braced the alien rifle against the corner of a crate.
This is the most awkward gun I have ever fired. I wondered if it wasn’t some sort of re-purposed mining tool. They should have spent less time trying to scare governments into submission and more time studying us.
I took a couple of deep breaths and decided on a retreat path if my little assault didn’t go so good. With that in mind, I did my best to aim at the closest drone. Come on, self. Control your breathing. I squeezed the handle-trigger-thing.
A shower of sparks flew as the plasma tore into the side of a metallic sentry.
I squeezed the trigger again and again.
The four other drones spun around and returned fire.
Burst after burst of plasma and shrapnel and sparks lit the space between me and escape. Three drones in all collapsed to the ground.
The other two kept firing, drilling hole after hole in my cover.
I noticed the front end of my gun getting white hot. The sight made my stomach turn. I don’t think it’s supposed to do that.
The two remaining drones drifted apart and then advanced at me.
I spun and ran back toward the other fray, keeping as many crates between me and the drones as possible.
Little projectiles whizzed through the air all around me. Fires and lanterns around the room cast little light. Dancing shadows blanketed the floor. The room, while immense, shrunk significantly when I was crossing it at a dead run.
I stubbed my toe about every third step in my frenzy to escape. Before I could formulate any sort of plan, I tripped, fell, and skidded on my knees and elbows into the little clearing near the big rock pile.
The green-skinned crowd had chosen that very spot to rally. At least eight or nine of them stood in the center of the space.
I didn’t think. I didn’t have time. A primal scream gurgled up from my toes, accelerated up my spine and exploded out my mouth like I was some sort of bloodthirsty lunatic. I steeled my grip on the rifle, launched myself to my feet and charged the guards.
Most of the aliens just stood there wide-eyed and dumbfounded. A couple had the presence of mind to fumble with their weapons.
One second later the drones popped onto the scene.
I dove into the center of the shocked crowd.
The drones kept firing after me.
The aliens freaked out. Some ran and a couple returned fire. They must have thought that I had hijacked the hovering nasties.
From the corner of my eye I saw Rhett step back into the clearing.
I concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other as fast as I could.
A hand reached out, slapped me on the back, and grabbed hold of my makeshift bandages.
I dropped my center of mass a bit, twisted, and pushed against the floor as hard as I could. Must keep moving.
The hand pulled back on my bandages.
I spun to the right and then jerked to the left.
The alien who had a hold of me lost its balance but didn’t let go.
The fabric split and tore away from the wound on my side. I grimaced at the pain.
My assailant fell face first onto the dirty floor.
And then I was free and moving again.
Random plasma bursts and alien screams filled the air. The hovering sentries went crazy, spraying their little metal missiles at anything moving.
I rounded the rock pile and headed back in what I hoped was London’s direction.
The aliens behind me were too confused and freaked out to chase me. Smoky haze had reached down to eye level. This is going to be my only chance to get us out of here.
I couldn’t run any more even if I had wanted to. My knees ached. My lungs screamed for oxygen. Still, I couldn’t let myself stop.
Up ahead, I could make out the doorway London and I had used.
Almost there.
I rounded a stack of crates to see the back side of an alien about halfway between where London had run and me. It was lurching as it walked. That probably meant it was a zombie.
I lifted the bizarre gun, took a deep breath, and squeezed the mechanism.
A flash of plasma tore into the center of the alien’s upper back.
The lanky form stood motionless for a moment, then crumpled to its knees before finally collapsing onto its face. Just beyond the fallen alien lay a still body obscured by hazy smoke.
Is that- I jumped over the corpse and got a better look. London!
The redhead was sprawled on her back with her head jammed up against a crate at a funny angle. She had obviously fallen backwards, and the impact split her scalp wide open. Blood from the head wound lay puddled and coagulated on the floor. There were no further visible injuries.
When you’re in emergency medicine and you’re with a patient, there is often no time for displays of emotion. If you want the patient to survive, you have to quickly but methodically check for all life-threatening injuries then begin treatment immediately. Once you’ve done all you can and either the patient stabilizes or someone relieves you – that’s when you can step back and let yourself feel the gush of fear, anger, sorrow, or loss. If you lose it before then, you’re not much help to anyone.
I guess you could say by now I was way off my peak nursing game. There was no holding back the emotion.
Tears clouded my eyes. The corners of my mouth pulled down into a grimace. My whole body shook. No, no, no! Don’t be dead. Don’t be dead. Don’t be dead. I dropped the alien gun, fell to my knees, and checked for vitals.
Keep Reading! Chapter 60 is here.
