Read Paradise 21 Online

Authors: Aubrie Dionne

Paradise 21 (3 page)

BOOK: Paradise 21
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The readings didn’t make sense. Perhaps the landing had damaged the scanner. The device registered several life-forms approaching, the first only meters away.

Aries poked her head out of her makeshift cover and saw only endless dunes of sand shifting under the gusting wind. She consulted the device again and got the same readings, only now the fluorescent dots crowded closer, surrounding her in a circle. The blinking lights on the screen were spaced with perfect symmetry. She gulped down bile. Whoever they were, they were hunting her and closing in.

She searched the hazy horizon and saw nothing. Crazily, she thought of ghosts, specters from a failed colonization attempt, but of course, ghosts wouldn’t register as breathing life-forms on her scanner. Fingers shaking, she packed up her sleeping bag and the device. She cursed herself for not bringing any weapons. Why had she thought the only bad guys were on her ship?

At least she had her pocketknife, something she often used to rewire circuit boards. She switched open the blade and held it out in front of her. It felt like a miniscule defense compared to such a vast land.

“Hello?” Her voice broke on the word, and fear twisted its way up her spine. “Is anyone out there?”

The wind ripped through Aries, sending another wave of grit into her face. Before she could clear her eyes, the sand exploded around her, as if bombs erupted at her feet. Human-shaped beings leaped from holes in the ground. They wore layers of rough hides on their bodies and wrapped around their heads. Carved bones with slits covered their eyes. They towered over her, pointing spears at her neck and ribs.

Aries clutched the knife. The blade shook in her grasp. “I mean you no harm.”

The creatures jabbed their spears at her nose.

“I’m just trying to get away from my ship…”

One creature stepped forward. Two stubby horns protruded from the animal hide around his head. He hissed, a primitive, insect-like sound cutting through Aries’ inner ear. Her hope for intellectual communication dwindled. She gazed into the bones covering their eyes, half of her not wanting to know what kind of eyes stared at her, but the slits were too narrow to see through.

The others echoed the apparent leader’s hiss as if in affirmation of their intended quarry, and adrenaline shot through her limbs. Iridescent scales covered their bodies, shimmering vermillion in the sun. The urge to run bubbled up inside her as she eyed the sharp tips of their spears. Three-pronged claws grasped the weapons. One of them lunged, and she backed right into another. It threw its skinny arms around her and squeezed.

Aries dropped her knife. She thrashed and screamed, kicking her legs, but the creature only held her tighter. The others, however, rather than attacking her, rummaged through her pack, so Aries gave up her energy-sapping struggle. Fighting would achieve nothing, only make her too tired to run if the chance came up. They pillaged her belongings and tossed aside important survival gear like trash. So much planning…spilled into the sand. One creature stepped on her only water locating device, cracking the screen and kicking sand over the circuits. Another ripped her sleeping bag open. Feathers fell to the ground, white on orange sand, as if the creatures had shot a bird from the heavens. Their comrades danced on top of the discarded items and thrust their spears in the air in excitement.

“Stop, you lizard bastards!” Now she would die of hunger and thirst in the middle of a desert, her perfectly packed bag stolen by primitive lizard men. Maybe Tria had had it easy.

The creatures didn’t let her go. They signaled to each other in strange swings of their heads and tugged her forward. Aries struggled as she watched the first few disappear into the tunnels underneath the sand. The rest dragged her with them.

“No, no, no.” She felt like she was stuck in some twisted bedtime story with a moral to scare small children:
never run away from home
.

A high-pitched squeal erupted from the dunes behind them. The creatures froze, then hissed in unison, but this time there was urgency to the sound, a sense of alarm. Twisting their necks at an impossible angle, they peered behind Aries to the dunes. Aries followed their gaze. She focused her eyes until her head hurt. The desert moved on the horizon, a ripple in an ocean of crimson-orange waves.

Not wanting to find out what was causing that disturbance on the horizon, Aires took advantage of the distraction and elbowed the creature holding her. He flew backward, landing on his tail in the sand. Although his wiry body consisted of lean muscle, she outweighed him, so the power of the impact left him stunned. She braced herself for another fight, but his comrades scurried into the tunnels.

She looked around for her pack, but they’d taken it. Before she could decide whether to follow them to steal it back, the ground opened next to the fallen creature. A mound of glittering scales unfurled before her like a giant spring. Choking on a stench that reminded her of the waste depository, she stared as a worm the size of a ventilator shaft rose above her head, casting an ominous shadow on the land.

The lizard creature clawed the earth in an attempt to get away, but the worm lunged, opening its mouth. Ridges of serrated teeth lined the pink, muscular opening. Its mouth clamped down on the lizard-creature’s torso. The worm lifted its head, bringing him upward to the sky. The lizard man waved his thin arms and dropped his spear before the jaws loosened and the worm swallowed him whole.

Aries watched, transfixed. The bristles protruding from each scale on the worm’s long throat flexed as the lizard man’s body traveled down.

Run, you fool.

Her legs shook and buckled underneath her. Aries scrambled down a drift of sand. She tumbled, head over boots, and rolled down a steep incline. Sand was everywhere, in her mouth, in her hair, and she couldn’t tell which direction she’d come from. Behind her, she heard the now-familiar squeal of the sandworm, so she scrambled ahead, sprinting blindly in the opposite direction of the call. The sun beat down on her, mocking her feeble plight as she spent her last ounce of energy.

Gazing fearfully over her shoulder, Aries searched the sand mounds for movement, but the landscape remained placid. Why wasn’t the worm following her? Was it taking a shortcut underneath her feet?

She wasn’t going to take any chances. Aries regained her feet and staggered until the sand dunes ran together in an endless tide, until she collapsed, disoriented and dehydrated. She opened her mouth to gasp in air, and her lips cracked, letting trickles of blood seep into the sand. As she closed her eyes, precious beads of sweat evaporated instantly from her forehead.

At least I died free.

Chapter Three
Striker

Striker shielded his eyes and crouched near the sand, listening to the wind. As the only human on this godforsaken planet, he’d learned in the past five years to rely on his other senses when the sandstorms obscured his vision. He sniffed the tangy scent of minerals in the air. A spring of underground water rippled through a vein in the earth. Reaching into his backpack with calloused hands, he drew out a long metal stick and thrust it into the ground. He waited, perfectly still, while the rod sank down and the wind whipped his long, black cloak behind him.

When he pulled out the rod, moist sand crusted the tip. He wiped the end on his palm and smoothed the granules between his fingertips. After a moment’s consideration, he untied the wrap around his mouth and tested the taste of the wet sand on his tongue.

Today the stars were on his side. Placing his backpack down, he began to untie the knot holding his shovel.

A call sounded across the dunes like the wail of a suffering banshee, rousing him from his fortune.
Sandworm
.

“Damn. Not now.” Weighing his options, he calculated the proximity and direction of the sandworm. It wouldn’t be worth the risk to stay and dig.

He squinted at the horizon. Large packs of raiders attracted sandworms. He wondered what had drawn their attention, but curiosity in this case could mean death in a sandworm’s stomach.

Turning away, he collected his belongings and prepared for the hike home. He’d slid halfway down the dune when a familiar sound sailed on the wind. He froze in mid-step, the sand collapsing around his high boots. Not much fazed him these days, but this call stirred emotions he’d long buried. It was a sound he hadn’t heard in years: a human scream.

“Damn it to hell.” He had no choice. Humans were damned scarce in the universe, unable to live on most planets. They’d wrecked old Earth centuries ago and had existed ever since in space, floating around in giant colony ships or clustered on the few hospitable rocks they’d stumbled across. To hear another human’s voice on this desert planet was more than he could have hoped to encounter. Pulling his hood around his face, he grabbed his water-seeking rod, clutching it with both hands as a weapon, and bolted in the direction of the scream.

He could hear the hiss of the raiders on the other side of the dune, wheezing like a dozen steam pipes. Swallowing his disgust, he crawled up the incline of rippling sand until he peered over the ridge. There was a sandworm, all right. A big one. Raiders were fleeing like ants into their tunnels. The scene was everything Striker should be running from, with one unavoidable reason to stay: a young woman, staring up at the hairy beast like a princess in an evil fairy tale.

He couldn’t yell to her, because he knew better than to distract a sandworm while it devoured a meal. Before he could think of another way to get her attention, the woman suddenly sprang into motion, sprinting away. As she disappeared over the adjacent ridge, Striker followed, making sure to give the sandworm a large berth.

His caution wasn’t enough. The pounding of his boots in the sand roused the beast from its digestion. It stiffened as if it felt the vibrations, raising its head and turning toward Striker. He froze in place, squeezing his palms around his metal rod.

“Come on, you sucker.” He’d never come this close to one before, but he had a plan. He always had a plan.

The worm plunged into the sand. It charged at him like a shark cutting through water, the sand shifting above its path in heaping mounds.

There was no sense in running. Not now. He’d seen the worms overpower the raiders, and their skinny lizard legs could sprint far faster than any man’s. He held up the rod and waited.

Just as he’d expected, the worm reemerged four feet away, bursting through the sand with its jaws open, ready to swallow its prey whole. The beasts had excellent distance judgment but weren’t one hundred percent accurate. As it snapped its jaws shut on nothing but air, Striker drew his arm backward, then threw the rod at its hide.

To his satisfaction, the pointed end of the stick pierced the outer layer. He’d only seen them from afar and had been guessing at the thickness of the hairy skin. He ran toward the worm, grasped the end of the rod, and pushed it in harder, applying his weight.

The worm flailed in the sky above his head, letting out a high-pitched screech. The rod stayed lodged in its throat as Striker let go, falling to the sand as the beast teetered over him. He rolled on his side and came to his feet as the worm lunged in the direction of his attack, its open mouth gulping for air.

He dived toward it and pulled out his rod, calculating another strike. The sandworm retreated, disappearing into the hole. Before he could attack again, it tunneled through the deep sand, stirring up dust and leaving a foul stench in its wake.

Striker shook his head and let the adrenalin ride through his body until it dispersed. It felt good to finally stab one of the monsters. Triumph soared in his chest, yet he reminded himself he might not be as lucky next time.

Had the young woman made it out in time? He hoped the raiders hadn’t caught her. If they’d found her, there’d be no hope of rescue. At least not by his one-man show.

Securing the metal rod to his pack, he raced in the direction he’d last seen her.


Barliss’ anger radiated off his body like rays from a newborn sun. Underneath his lieutenant’s hat, the gel on his sleek, blond hair practically melted. He clenched his teeth together until his jaw hurt and watched out of the main sight panel on the bridge as the
New Dawn
entered the atmosphere of Sahara 354.

His fiancée’s attentions had all been a charade. He, of all people, should have known. There’d been so many mornings of coy smiles over coffee and afternoon walks on the starboard viewing decks. She’d played the game like an expert craftsman, so well she’d led them all to believe she was the model Lifer, the woman others looked up to, and the perfect future mate.

Barliss felt cheated. He hadn’t spent years of doing favors and manipulating the system for a runaway bride. She was a key part of his plans for his future, and he wasn’t going to let her get away.

Barliss’ collar buzzed. He cleared his throat and pressed his lapel pin. “Yes.”

“We’ve located the last coordinates of the escape pod, sir. The commander is preparing the search and rescue crews. He’s put you in charge of the first landing party.”

“Excellent. I’ll be down on the landing decks shortly.”

Barliss moved to shut off the communication but the subordinate’s voice came on again, full of kindness and sympathy. “And, sir, I like to offer my deepest apologies. I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding.”

BOOK: Paradise 21
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