crash room if you won't help.”
Johnson stared at him for a moment, his eyes wide and wild with fury and terror, and he then he turned abruptly around and disappeared through the door Allan had indicated. Allan turned and glanced at Lucy and Redford.
“I'm in,” Redford said.
“You're insane,” Lucy replied, then turned and joined Johnson.
“Fine. Come on, let's do this,” Allan said, turning back to the bridge door.
He reached forward, and hesitated. A part of his mind knew that this was absolutely insane. If he went in there, he would probably die. The chances of even succeeding in sending the ship into a nosedive were very slim, let alone incapacitating or ending the killer. He realized he didn't care. It didn't make any difference.
It's not like he had anything left to live for anyway.
Allan hit the button.
The door slid open. The killer stood at the controls, working them. Beyond the front windows they could see the clear blue sky. The killer seemed not to have noticed them. Allan glanced briefly at Redford, but the man seemed consumed by anger, staring directly ahead. He raised his weapon, a rifle he must have grabbed from the starport, and opened fire before Allan could say anything. The bullets pinged off the killer's broad back, doing no damage, but served to get his attention. He turned, spied the two men intruding on his bridge and began walking.
“Come and get it you fuck !” Redford screamed, continuing to fire.
The killer seemed to be focused on him. Allan took the opening that presented and raced past the killer, dodging around him and hurrying up to the main terminal. Redford kept up the rate of fire, both from his rifle and his mouth. He ranted and raved, shrieking at the killer, raw emotion cracking his voice. Allan's hands flew over the controls, hit the override and changing the course. A thought flickered through his mind: the notion to see where the hell the killer was going, but there was no time and he abandoned the notion.
The ship abruptly shifted course and began heading towards the ground, a few hundred meters below them.
Allan turned and began running towards the exit, knowing he needed to get to the crash room. The killer had reached Redford. One massive, dark-clad armor shot out, grabbed the arm holding the rifle at the bicep and pulled.
Redford screamed as his arm came off in a spray of blood. The killer dropped the arm, reached up and grabbed the man's neck. Allan knew what would come next. He took the opportunity and ran by them, shutting and locking the door behind him, then raced down the corridor to the crash room. He opened it, spied Lucy and Johnson already locked into the protective chairs that lined the interior walls of the room.
He had just enough time to take a step, then the ship crashed.
* * * * *
“Is he dead?”
“I can't tell. He's in that fucking suit...”
“If he's dead, can we just go home?”
“Give it a rest already.”
“What happened to the other guy?”
“He's dead,” Allan said.
He stared up at the uncertain faces of Lucy and Johnson and sat up. They back up, giving him some room, as he climbed slowly to his feet. Several things hurt, his head most of all, and he seemed certain that he was bleeding from somewhere.
“How long have I been out?” Allan asked.
“About twenty minutes,” Johnson said.
“Shit...at least we're still alive. Any sign from the killer?”
“No, nothing. We haven't heard any movement but...we haven't really left the room, either,” Lucy replied.
“Why not!?”
“Because there might be a fucking unstoppable killing machine out there, you asshole!” Lucy snapped.
Allan sighed, turned and walked over to the door. He opened it up and peered out into the corridor beyond. The ship was tilted slightly at an awkward angle and the lights were flickering, those that were still functional. The door to the bridge was still closed. Allan hurried up to it and opened it up. Slowly, it slid into its
Johnson stared at him for a moment, his eyes wide and wild with fury and terror, and he then he turned abruptly around and disappeared through the door Allan had indicated. Allan turned and glanced at Lucy and Redford.
“I'm in,” Redford said.
“You're insane,” Lucy replied, then turned and joined Johnson.
“Fine. Come on, let's do this,” Allan said, turning back to the bridge door.
He reached forward, and hesitated. A part of his mind knew that this was absolutely insane. If he went in there, he would probably die. The chances of even succeeding in sending the ship into a nosedive were very slim, let alone incapacitating or ending the killer. He realized he didn't care. It didn't make any difference.
It's not like he had anything left to live for anyway.
Allan hit the button.
The door slid open. The killer stood at the controls, working them. Beyond the front windows they could see the clear blue sky. The killer seemed not to have noticed them. Allan glanced briefly at Redford, but the man seemed consumed by anger, staring directly ahead. He raised his weapon, a rifle he must have grabbed from the starport, and opened fire before Allan could say anything. The bullets pinged off the killer's broad back, doing no damage, but served to get his attention. He turned, spied the two men intruding on his bridge and began walking.
“Come and get it you fuck !” Redford screamed, continuing to fire.
The killer seemed to be focused on him. Allan took the opening that presented and raced past the killer, dodging around him and hurrying up to the main terminal. Redford kept up the rate of fire, both from his rifle and his mouth. He ranted and raved, shrieking at the killer, raw emotion cracking his voice. Allan's hands flew over the controls, hit the override and changing the course. A thought flickered through his mind: the notion to see where the hell the killer was going, but there was no time and he abandoned the notion.
The ship abruptly shifted course and began heading towards the ground, a few hundred meters below them.
Allan turned and began running towards the exit, knowing he needed to get to the crash room. The killer had reached Redford. One massive, dark-clad armor shot out, grabbed the arm holding the rifle at the bicep and pulled.
Redford screamed as his arm came off in a spray of blood. The killer dropped the arm, reached up and grabbed the man's neck. Allan knew what would come next. He took the opportunity and ran by them, shutting and locking the door behind him, then raced down the corridor to the crash room. He opened it, spied Lucy and Johnson already locked into the protective chairs that lined the interior walls of the room.
He had just enough time to take a step, then the ship crashed.
* * * * *
“Is he dead?”
“I can't tell. He's in that fucking suit...”
“If he's dead, can we just go home?”
“Give it a rest already.”
“What happened to the other guy?”
“He's dead,” Allan said.
He stared up at the uncertain faces of Lucy and Johnson and sat up. They back up, giving him some room, as he climbed slowly to his feet. Several things hurt, his head most of all, and he seemed certain that he was bleeding from somewhere.
“How long have I been out?” Allan asked.
“About twenty minutes,” Johnson said.
“Shit...at least we're still alive. Any sign from the killer?”
“No, nothing. We haven't heard any movement but...we haven't really left the room, either,” Lucy replied.
“Why not!?”
“Because there might be a fucking unstoppable killing machine out there, you asshole!” Lucy snapped.
Allan sighed, turned and walked over to the door. He opened it up and peered out into the corridor beyond. The ship was tilted slightly at an awkward angle and the lights were flickering, those that were still functional. The door to the bridge was still closed. Allan hurried up to it and opened it up. Slowly, it slid into its
Similar Books
