Star Runners: Dark Space

Chapter 2

2

Crack!

Josh Morris jolted, kicking his legs out from underneath the soiled sheets. The sound of the whip mixed with the blood thumping in his ears as he stared at the ceiling. His thoughts raced through the memories conjured from the nightmare. The stench of garbage and rotting flesh. Delmar dying in the sand. The whip splitting his back as Cyclops stood above it all, his cackling laugh part of life as a Tyral Pirate prisoner. Waylon, his eyes a cold steel, providing silent support.

Reaching over his shoulder, he slid his fingers across the twisted and scarred skin—his permanent reminder the nightmare had been real.

Taking a deep breath, Josh stretched and looked around the room. Leaves cast a flurry of shadows dancing from the streetlight outside his apartment.

"I've slept enough," he said aloud, kicking off the last corner of the sheet still covering his left foot. He slid his legs onto the floor and wiped his eyes.

The red clock showed it was only 4 a.m. He'd slept a little longer than any other night this week. Rolling his head around until his neck popped, he stood and tucked his feet into the bedroom slippers Mom and Dad had given him long ago.

He shuffled through the bland apartment with white countertops, white walls, white cabinets and white appliances. Stopping at the fridge, he grabbed a ginger ale and walked to his office, pausing at the desk with his computer. Allowing his index finger to linger on the flight stick used for his current job, he continued to the balcony overlooking the parking lot spotted with used vehicles in various stages of disrepair. He pushed the sliding glass door to the side and collapsed into the plastic chair, taking a sip as he leaned his head back. A cool breeze touched his face as the beverage tingled his tongue and bubbled down his throat.

The dark blue of the early morning sky lightened the horizon, the stars still gleaming as a constant reminder of the "real" world.

He snorted, the memories of shooting down the pirate fighter over the nameless world in the Amade Cluster returning as they often had for nearly two years. The craft had come apart in a brilliant fire, splitting into bright embers as they streaked across the atmosphere. A man had been on board the fighter as it disintegrated, a human being he’d killed.

Shaking his head, he told himself the pirate would’ve killed him if given a chance, that he’d only done what he needed to do to survive and make it home. Sometimes he even fooled himself into believing the killing didn't bother him, but those days were few and far between.

Josh sat in silence, the events with the Barracudas burning into his mind. Waylon and his motley crew of smugglers had adopted him as one of their own, even going so far to call him family. They'd been under fire together, bolts zipping by their heads before they’d escaped into the asteroid field.

Waylon let Josh take Matta's ship back to Earth to warn of the attack with the promise he’d return it—a promise he had yet to fulfill.

He sighed.

The cell phone alarm went off.

Finishing the drink, he stood and hurried back to his computer. The load screen of Star Runners flickered to life, the updates showing Tridents dogfighting with Zahlian Interceptors as the game prepared to run. He remembered playing this simulation in high school when all he wanted to do was stay ahead of Austin's score. In fact, it was once his only care in the world.

Staring at the black desk illuminated by his desk lamp, Josh gripped the stick.

Time to get to work.

Josh blinked away sunspots as he viewed the vast array of artistic booths in downtown Duluth. Under a cloudless Georgia sky, dozens of artists stood behind tables full of everything from glassworks to paintings to embroidered trinkets with witty sayings. The crowd murmured as deals were conducted, punctuated by the occasional child chasing another. Dogs snarled and squared off as their owners attempted to mask their embarrassment.

He remembered coming to this Fall Festival with his parents a long time ago. Dad even bought him a pop gun with a cork in the muzzle, back when the idea of fighting battles filled him with excitement and adventure.

"You okay?" Austin Stone asked as they strolled along the row of booths.

Josh looked at his friend. "Yeah. I suppose so."

Running a hand over his hair that had finally grown slightly from his scalp, Austin nodded toward Kadyn and Ryker who had paused at a woodworker's tent. "Today's a good day," he whispered. "Thanks for coming."

Josh frowned, watching Ryker's hands tremble as they held a wooden carving of a squirrel with an acorn. "Her recovery still going okay?"

A shadow fell over Austin's face. “Let’s focus on today.”

And Josh left it alone.

Since Austin had returned from wherever the Legion had sent him, he’d spoken little about Ryker's condition other than to say she had a long road of rehabilitation ahead. Following a round of promotions, Major Jonathan Nubern had an opening in Quadrant Eight's recruitment, and Austin had fallen into the role quite nicely, turning in his quarterly prospect reports on time and presenting detailed updates during their meetings at Base Prime in California.

But there was something brewing beneath the surface of his friend's professionalism, a cold resolve Josh hadn't dared to stir. Today wouldn't be any different.

They spent the morning shopping. Kadyn bought a red pillow with the word "PEACE" stenciled in white on the surface from a lady with silver hair and large round eyes, who seemed excited with the sale. Ten other pillows with similar sayings lined her table.

Ryker offered a lopsided smile in silence, never straying too far from Austin's side. When she did speak, her voice was muffled and strained as if she’d suffered a stroke. Her body’s right side hung limp, but the fact she moved without a walker anymore was a vast improvement from when Josh first saw her at the coffee shop.

As the sun reached the midday, they bought hotdogs, soda, and popcorn. Settling under a broad umbrella near the grassy center of town, the four friends ate as the wind picked up, swaying the trees near city hall and sending a fresh pile of leaves over the playground. From the stage, a band played banjos and fiddles. Heads nodded and feet tapped to the beat.

"I've never been here before," Austin said, sipping from a large straw with red stripes. "Can't believe it."

"I've only been once." Josh glanced at Kadyn. "You?"

She shook her head, her eyes fixated on a roaring fire in a barrel used for roasting s’mores, the hotdog half-eaten in her fingertips.

He reached over and touched her hand. "Kadyn?"

Jolting back, she blurted, “Huh?"

"You okay?"

"Yeah ... it's just the fire."

As Kadyn took a drink, Josh and Austin shared a glance.

When the mercenary Phantoms had been assassinating Star Runners in the prelude to Dax Rodon's attempt to conquer Earth, Austin had taken Kadyn deep into the Georgia mountains to await extraction. The ensuing firefight and blaze created in the trees had been the source of countless hours of therapy for Kadyn and many late night conversations. Now, the sight of fire seemed to put her right back into that forest, laser bolts sizzling through the air.

She finished her hotdog and tugged at Ryker's elbow. "Wanna get closer to the music?"

"Sound good," Ryker said, rising to her feet and following Kadyn into the grass.

Austin watched them, chewing on his hotdog as he leaned back in the chair and crumpled a napkin. "She still having nightmares?”

"Aren't we all?"

Ryker clapped at the end of a banjo solo. Kadyn wrapped her arm around her friend's shoulder as they danced.

Leaning his elbows on the table, Josh tapped Austin's forearm. "Does it bother you?"

"Does what bother me?"

He leaned closer as if someone would overhear. "The … killing. Shooting down another person. Ending a life. Do you get used to it?"

"No. You don't."

After listening to another song, Austin took a deep breath and continued, “Late at night, I used to think of the fighters I've seen exploding, twisting and turning, imagining the terror in the pilot's face as they knew their end was near."

Josh held his breath, not knowing why. "So it still bothers you?"

"Not anymore." He looked back to Ryker. "I don't know exactly what they did to her up there. Maybe I don't want to know. When I get back up there, I’ll not hesitate. I'll kill every one of them I see."

A shiver shot down Josh's back as he looked over Austin's shoulder. "You ever wish we could go back to when it was all a game?"

"And lie to ourselves?" He shook his head. "No. Those who serve a government like the Zahl deserve to die. And once she's better, I'll do what I can to see they pay. The Legion needs you, too, buddy. Once you've figured out what's going on in your head, I hope you'll join me."

Josh stared at him, wondering what Austin had seen out there in his time in space. The soul was missing from his eyes, the spark gone. A hatred, pure and primal, had replaced it.

"What have we become?" Josh whispered, his eyes falling back to his napkin now twisted and hardened from hotdog grease.

Austin didn't move his eyes from his straw. "We're Star Runners."