dark, trying to see a
flicker of movement, and when it comes, I almost jump from my skin to the
ceiling as suddenly there is a blinding flash and a thunderous report of fire.
From the right, I shoot back. I hear a scream, then fire again. Skea goes to
check and puts a round through the fallen, just in case. There is one more turn
in the tight corridor before the passage to the main entrance. Nothing moves. I
am breathing fast. I hear gunfire far behind and know Helst has found someone.
I’m caught between going on and heading back, wavering uncertainly until Jem
tugs my arm and nods. So ahead it is. We keep on shuffling low as we pick our
way to the corner.
I wave a hand round the corridor and
immediately there is gunfire. I’m lucky to have kept my fingers. Someone is
down there, waiting for us. I poke the machine gun round and fire a few rounds,
hearing the echoing whine of ricochets, of bullets bouncing all over. I must
have hit something, I tell myself. Jem looks
over but nothing moves. We wait, just wondering and listening, but all I can
hear is the ring of the shots deafening me. Skea lets off a few rounds and we
wait again.
“What do you think?” Jem whispers.
“No idea,” I reply. It’s the truth: I
cannot be sure anyone is still alive up there or not. I can’t sense anything.
One of us has got to move so I decide it might as well be me. I lean carefully
round and see a huddled shape on the deck. It looks dead but, unsure, I duck
back. “One down at least,” I whisper. There are more gun shots from behind us.
“Come on,” I say, and jump round the corridor, machine gun raised and ready to
go. Again, nothing moves. Jem follows with Skea. I see something left; I fire, then
crouch down before a burning curtain of bullets erupts, and I throw myself
sideways, still firing. There is a shriek and I can just make out a stumbling figure,
the clatter of a dropped weapon, and Skea rips into them with the trigger
pulled.
Then there is silence. Except behind
me.
I crawl around and see Jem lying
there, covered in blood, and I curse. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Fuck!
I go to Jem and see that his lower jaw is blown away; his mouth is now huge and
spouting blood and teeth fragments. Blood is squirting from his chest too, and
I can see he is done for. I reach out and hold his hand. His eyes are full of
fear and puzzlement, and I try to smile and say something, but no words come
out. Still he wheezes and hisses for breath with thick, bubbling blood running
from the remains of his face. Skea goes up ahead, confirming kills and that the
outer door is shut, and all the time I hold Jem’s hand until finally he goes. There
is one more chest rise, then stillness. He is done. Fuck!
“He’s dead?” Skea askes softly when
she comes back to us. I just nod. Jem was okay – a good man. It shouldn’t be
like this, I swear to myself. It shouldn’t! There is no way Jem should be dead.
This is not fair, not at all, and I punch the floor in frustration.
Helst and Cora arrive; seeing the
mess, they shake their heads. Really, we are all dead now – one way or another
– but no one wants to go before their ready. Least of all Jem, he would have
clung on to the end of all things.
“We killed the cook,” Helst says
softly. “Didn’t mean to. He came jumping out of the storage freezer and we
popped him. Shame.” He doesn’t sound like he is that sorry, I think to myself. Illen
may have been a coward, but he could cook. “There were three of them in the
storage bay, but we got them too.”
“Okay, we have to keep this door
guarded,” Skea says. “Take the bodies to the freezer, at least we have more
food.”
“Not Jem,” Cora says.
“No, not
flicker of movement, and when it comes, I almost jump from my skin to the
ceiling as suddenly there is a blinding flash and a thunderous report of fire.
From the right, I shoot back. I hear a scream, then fire again. Skea goes to
check and puts a round through the fallen, just in case. There is one more turn
in the tight corridor before the passage to the main entrance. Nothing moves. I
am breathing fast. I hear gunfire far behind and know Helst has found someone.
I’m caught between going on and heading back, wavering uncertainly until Jem
tugs my arm and nods. So ahead it is. We keep on shuffling low as we pick our
way to the corner.
I wave a hand round the corridor and
immediately there is gunfire. I’m lucky to have kept my fingers. Someone is
down there, waiting for us. I poke the machine gun round and fire a few rounds,
hearing the echoing whine of ricochets, of bullets bouncing all over. I must
have hit something, I tell myself. Jem looks
over but nothing moves. We wait, just wondering and listening, but all I can
hear is the ring of the shots deafening me. Skea lets off a few rounds and we
wait again.
“What do you think?” Jem whispers.
“No idea,” I reply. It’s the truth: I
cannot be sure anyone is still alive up there or not. I can’t sense anything.
One of us has got to move so I decide it might as well be me. I lean carefully
round and see a huddled shape on the deck. It looks dead but, unsure, I duck
back. “One down at least,” I whisper. There are more gun shots from behind us.
“Come on,” I say, and jump round the corridor, machine gun raised and ready to
go. Again, nothing moves. Jem follows with Skea. I see something left; I fire, then
crouch down before a burning curtain of bullets erupts, and I throw myself
sideways, still firing. There is a shriek and I can just make out a stumbling figure,
the clatter of a dropped weapon, and Skea rips into them with the trigger
pulled.
Then there is silence. Except behind
me.
I crawl around and see Jem lying
there, covered in blood, and I curse. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Fuck!
I go to Jem and see that his lower jaw is blown away; his mouth is now huge and
spouting blood and teeth fragments. Blood is squirting from his chest too, and
I can see he is done for. I reach out and hold his hand. His eyes are full of
fear and puzzlement, and I try to smile and say something, but no words come
out. Still he wheezes and hisses for breath with thick, bubbling blood running
from the remains of his face. Skea goes up ahead, confirming kills and that the
outer door is shut, and all the time I hold Jem’s hand until finally he goes. There
is one more chest rise, then stillness. He is done. Fuck!
“He’s dead?” Skea askes softly when
she comes back to us. I just nod. Jem was okay – a good man. It shouldn’t be
like this, I swear to myself. It shouldn’t! There is no way Jem should be dead.
This is not fair, not at all, and I punch the floor in frustration.
Helst and Cora arrive; seeing the
mess, they shake their heads. Really, we are all dead now – one way or another
– but no one wants to go before their ready. Least of all Jem, he would have
clung on to the end of all things.
“We killed the cook,” Helst says
softly. “Didn’t mean to. He came jumping out of the storage freezer and we
popped him. Shame.” He doesn’t sound like he is that sorry, I think to myself. Illen
may have been a coward, but he could cook. “There were three of them in the
storage bay, but we got them too.”
“Okay, we have to keep this door
guarded,” Skea says. “Take the bodies to the freezer, at least we have more
food.”
“Not Jem,” Cora says.
“No, not
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