Revenge: (Space Outlaw 3) Read online

  "Listen, I shouldn't even be on this stupid trip, you hear? If it wasn't for certain circumstances, I wouldn't even be here."

  "Circumstances? Where did you learn that big word?" Saoirse asked.

  "It don't matter--"

  "Move," said Phoenix, pushing Plowstow forward.

  The halls of the docking station flashed red with warning lights, creating an eerie glow. Long shadows stretched in front of the trio. Phoenix kept looking over his shoulder but saw nothing out of place.

  Tingles ran up and down his spine, and he stole a quick glance over his shoulder, shaking his head. Something was wrong. He didn't know what, but he could feel it crawling around inside his guts on six hairy legs.

  "Can't believe that we ran into Rustem," Plowstow said, rounding a corner. "Who would have--"

  Before the last words left Plowstow's mouth, Phoenix yanked him and Saoirse backwards. Plasma fire scorched the wall where Plowstow had been a moment before.

  "Ah, Mr Jones! How did you know, how did you know I would be waiting?" rang a voice from the shadows.

  "I could hear the cogs working in that metal head of yours, Rustem, old buddy, old pal."

  A chuckle pierced the gloom. Phoenix pressed his finger to his lips before pulling Plowstow and Saoirse close to him.

  "First things first, Plowstow, you stink. Second, do either of you have a mirror or something reflective?" Phoenix whispered.

  Plowstow clicked his fingers and reached into the crotch of his trousers, where he began to root around, as if he were digging for gold.

  "Err, Plowstow, I'm not too sure that's gonna work."

  "Hold on," Plowstow said, his tongue poking out while he continued to search. "This should do."

  Phoenix took the item in question between two fingers and held it up. It was a gemstone-studded compact mirror that any lady of leisure would die to own.

  "Plowstow, I hate to say it, but I don't think this matches your skin tone. Maybe you should try something less...sparkly," Phoenix said, walking to the corner. Taking a firm grip on the handle, he positioned the mirror so he could see round the corner. He got a brief glimpse of Rustem, and a large number of men gathered around him, before the mirror was blasted from his hands.

  "Now, now, Mr Jones. No peeking," said Rustem.

  Phoenix returned fire and was happy to hear screams where his shots had hit their targets. Moving away from the corner, he returned to Plowstow and Saoirse.

  "He's got maybe twenty to twenty-five men around him--I didn't get a good enough look. They are blocking the exit we need."

  "We can't---"

  A bone-shattering slam from behind them made them all glance at the metal shutters. Certain parts now glowed so red that it was painful to stare at them directly. Another shunt from the bots on the other side moved the buckled door a inch or two inwards.

  "We can't stay here. That metal shutter is about to break in half," said Plowstow.

  "And we can't proceed forward," said Saoirse.

  "They have us at a pinch point. Hmm. Saoirse, erect a shield at our backs. Plowstow, do the same at our front. Just before the corner. Looks like we'll have to sit and wait this one out. Heard anything back from L?" Phoenix asked.

  Saoirse shook her head before she went and did as he asked.

  "Rustem! You still there, metal head?"

  "Where else would I be, Mr Jones? Where else would I be?"

  "I gotta know one thing--it's something that's been playing on my mind. Why are you here? I don't mean in the 'how babies are made' sense. I mean, you can't be working for Holger anymore. So why go through all this?" Phoenix asked, inching as close as he could to the corner.

  "Pride and honour, Mr Jones. Pride and honour."

  "Huh. I wouldn't have taken you for that sort of man."

  Phoenix grabbed a small disc from Plowstow--one part flash-bang, one part shrapnel grenade. Tossing it round the corner, he followed it up with a hail of plasma fire.

  "Get down!" someone screamed.

  It was too late; the screams from the other end of the corridor signalled that it had done its job. The moans from their unseen wounded enemies seemed amplified as they kept pace with the flashing red overhead lights.

  "What sort of man did you take me for?" Rustem asked.

  "One motivated by greed, power, control. The need to endanger everything and everyone to gain what they want."

  "Take one or two ingredients out of the pot, and you and I could almost be the same man," Rustem laughed.

  Phoenix peeked round the corner and pulled back as a hail of fire came his way. Pushing his back flat against the cold wall, he chuckled quietly to himself. Maybe we are two peas in a pod.

  "I would tell those men to get back, if I were you, metal head."

  "Why? You're trapped, outnumbered, and outgunned. Either I kill you or the weapon bots do. Either way, I get what I want--your death," said Rustem.

  "All this...just so you can kill me? I'm honoured, Rustem. Truly I am."

  "How can the great Bell Man allow an unknown Earth-man to take him down? To injure him? All in the space of a few minutes, everything I have worked for vanished--in a blink of an eye. Reputation is everything, in this business, Mr Jones."

  Phoenix could hear footsteps coming his way. The foreplay seemed to be over. The enemy planned to rush their defences, damn the cost. Phoenix took one more small disc from Plowstow, who indicated that it was their last one. Whipping it round the corner, Phoenix made his way back to the group as Plowstow erected his shield.

  "My shields are up," said Saoirse.

  "So are mine," echoed Plowstow.

  Phoenix glanced over his shoulder and could see that the shutters would give way at any moment. Things didn't look good. Bending down on one knee, he closed his eyes and thought of home. He thought of Oliver and Olivia--their smiles, their laughter, the way they smelled.

  The image of them calmed his mind and heart to the chaos around him. It placed him in a miniature bubble. Breathing in slowly, he popped his ears.

  Both Saoirse and Plowstow had assembled their bolt-action assault rifles. Another waited on the floor for Phoenix. He picked it up and allowed the reassuring weight to settle in his hands. Placing the rifle butt in the crook of his shoulder, he nodded to them both.

  "Saoirse, as you're the best shot out of the three of us, you guard our backs. Plowstow and I will deal with Rustem at the front. Although this looks grim, we'll make it out of this alive."

  "You sure?" Plowstow asked with a raised eyebrow.

  "Err... Yes... No... I have faith that this won't be our last stand," said Phoenix.

  "More assuring words have never been spoken," Saoirse said, turning in position.

  "Hey! It's been a long day."

  The footsteps were close now; they sounded like war drums calling their troops to battle. There can't be that many! There weren't that many when I last looked. Was I wrong?

  Calm, Phoenix. Calm.

  They were getting closer. The footsteps were now mixed in with war cries. Shouts and expletives bounced from wall to wall. The sound appeared to be coming from above them, behind them.

  There was an almighty crash.

  "The shutters have been breached! Incoming! Incoming! Incoming!"

  28

  Shit!

  Phoenix knew that he wanted to turn around, wanted to fire at the enemy at his back, but he had placed his trust in Saoirse, and he wouldn't doubt that now. The screech of metal crushing against metal felt like nails being dragged against his eardrums. The plasma and bolt guns fired by the weapons bots echoed along the contained space of the hall. The flashes from their guns mixing with the red light from the warning sirens made the area feel like an underground rave.

  Phoenix felt rather than heard Saoirse's rifle go off as the sound punched him in his chest.

  Pay attention. Here they come.

  The battle cries had grown in volume and intensity the nearer Rustem's men got. Phoenix looked across at Plowstow
and gave the Orcian a nod before adjusting his grip on his rifle.

  "Don't fire until I do!" he told Plowstow.

  He looked down the sight of the weapon, held his breath, and waited. As a hand appeared round the corner, followed by its owner, Phoenix still held his breath. Another body came into view, then another, and another, and another.

  "Phoenix!" said Plowstow.

  Still, Phoenix waited. He counted five now, all running side by side. All blocking the way for the others to pass. They were close, so close that he could almost smell them. Time slowed down, and Phoenix saw the spittle fly from the lips of his enemy while they charged and screamed. He saw the misshapen body armour, with rips and holes, leaving flesh exposed.

  "Phoenix!"

  He saw weapons pointed his way, but the trigger fingers had not yet been pulled back.

  "Phoenix!"

  He fired his weapon, taking out four with head shots while Plowstow took out the fifth. Another row behind them received the same treatment as their fallen brethren. Bodies littered the hallway, making it harder for the emery to get to them. Shots began to come their way, lighting up the defence shield in front of them.

  Phoenix spotted a hand, holding what looked like a grenade, pulled back and ready to throw. He shot the grenade in the owner's hand, causing an explosion that blew hot air their way. Owner and grenade created red and black scorch marks along the walls of the hall.

  The screams of the dying were silenced as their crew-mates stepped over them and charged on without any mercy. Their pace was beginning to slow, as Rustem's men now had to step over their dying and wounded without being shot. It made the job easier for Phoenix and Plowstow, who just had to pick their shots.

  Head shots splattered the wall behind their enemy. Chest shots caved in the armour around each wound, forcing it into the enemies' bodies.

  More men piled into the area before them, and more bodies were added to the pile on the floor. The mess of mangled flesh and armour had now created a choke point that worked in the trio's favour. Blood seeped from the pile and covered the floor, making any foothold next to impossible.

  As men worked their way over and slipped onto their backs, Phoenix almost felt bad for shooting them. Almost.

  As the flow of men coming their way slowed to a halt, Phoenix glanced over his shoulder. "Saoirse, how you holding up?"

  "The situation is under control."

  "They appear to be stopping, Phoenix," said Plowstow.

  Phoenix turned his attention back around, and it did appear that no more bodies were forthcoming.

  "Rustem! That was too easy. I thought you wanted payback? Sending a bunch of hopeless goons my way for slaughter is hardy teaching me a lesson, is it? This message is for anyone who works for Rustem and is still alive! Stay where you are and no one else will get hurt. Better yet, give us Rustem's ugly ass, and this will all be over," said Phoenix.

  "Mr Jones, Mr Jones, that was just the warm-up. The main show starts now," said Rustem.

  Phoenix raised an eyebrow as two square white boxes were thrown before the pile of bodies, where they rested motionless. They started to slowly rock from side to side, unfolding before Phoenix's very eyes.

  They looked like Lego pieces breaking apart and expanding into something bigger. The boxes grew outward and upward, growing eight legs which resembled a spider's, then forming a humanoid torso.

  Phoenix began to fire on the two robots without a second thought. The rounds from his rifle pinged off their frames, causing minimal damage. They grew larger and larger until they stood six feet tall. They each had four arms; two had wicked-looking curved blades attached at the end of them and the other two supported assault rifles that reminded Phoenix of Gatling guns.

  "Oh...shit!" said Plowstow.

  "Is there a problem?" asked Saoirse.

  "Err...no. Just...things may get a little crazy," said Phoenix.

  "Why?" Saoirse asked, turning around. "Oh, shit!"

  "It's not all that bad," Phoenix said weakly.

  "Those are military grade humanoid weapon bots," said Saoirse.

  "You just cover our rear, and we'll deal with this," said Phoenix.

  Both weapon bots stood to full attention and turned their heads slowly in the trio's direction. Red eyes glowed and flickered as they locked onto their targets. One bot swung his bladed arm back and forth, creating a swishing noise that sent tingles down Phoenix's spine.

  "Oh, shit," said Plowstow.

  "Aim for the joints in their armour!" Saoirse said over her shoulder.

  Phoenix and Plowstow both opened fire on the bots, aiming for the joints that connected their limbs. Phoenix got a hit on the blade arm of one, which tore it from its socket. This seemed to do nothing but agitate the bots, as they pointed their weapons and opened fire.

  The shield protecting the trio became a sea of red dots as bullets impacted upon it. The flashes from the bots' guns were blinding as they slowly advanced.

  "Shields are taking a pounding! We're down to sixty percent," said Plowstow.

  Phoenix shook his head and aimed for the neck of one of the bots. As he hit his target, its head snapped back, exposing its wires. The wound did nothing but slow it down, as it still came forward with a dogged robotic determination.

  "Shields down to forty percent!"

  "Do we have any bombs?" Phoenix asked.

  "This is the last one--make it count," Saoirse said, handing him a couple of jet-black balls.

  Phoenix took both in his hands and tossed them. Bringing his gun to bear in one fluid movement, he waited till the right moment and fired at both of them. The explosion knocked him and Plowstow flat on their backs.

  Smoke filled the hall, stinging their eyes and making Phoenix's nose run. A slight ringing in his ears wasn't helped by the double vision that made everything appear as though he were viewing his surroundings through overlapping glass.

  The heat from the explosion still wafted his way, and he could feel the sweat dripping down his back.

  "Did we get them?" Plowstow asked.

  When the smoke cleared, all they could see was a clear hallway. Robotic parts littered the floor. Phoenix got up from where he knelt and gave himself a nod.

  "I think we took care of--"

  Red dots flared up along the shields, causing Phoenix to duck. Where the...

  "Above you!" yelled Saoirse.

  The last remaining bot had embedded all six legs deep into the ceiling. Half its face was hanging off, exposing the wires underneath, and oil leaked from its open casing. It had lost three arms, but it still had one gun left.

  "Shields at ten percent!"

  Fuck.

  "Phoenix, what are we going to do?" asked Saoirse.

  "Aim everything you have at--"

  Phoenix saw Rustem and a handful of men making their way towards them. Rustem had a grin on his face as he pointed his weapon and opened fire.

  They were getting hit from all sides. Even if they took out one target, they wouldn't be able to deal with the other.

  "Fuck! Shields down to two percent," yelled Plowstow.

  "Give them everything you have," screamed Phoenix.

  The shields flickered and died, and Phoenix looked at both Saoirse and Plowstow and gave them a smile.

  An explosion tore a hole in the wall ahead of them, taking them all by surprise. Bits of metal and debris showered the hall. As the vacuum of space sucked everyone out into the abyss, the only thought that crossed Phoenix's mind was What now?

  29

  Phoenix was sucked through the hole in the wall before he could even blink. He tried to grab hold of something but failed, and he was slammed against wall after wall before being spat out into the darkness of space.

  Disorientated and confused, he clawed at his throat before he realised he could breathe. Taking one big gulp after another, he allowed the oxygen to calm his nerves. As he spun round and round, he tried to right himself but it was of no use. He felt a smooth dome when he reached up w
ith his hands and it thudded as he tapped against the material. A helmet! He looked at his hands and saw that they were covered with the black fabric of the combat gear he was wearing.

  "Well, isn't that something."

  As he spun away from the docking arm, he saw from the outside where the hole had been made. Who or what had caused it he didn't have a clue, but what he did know was that he had been offered a few more minutes of life. He didn't know how much air the suit had, but he was guessing that he would run out sooner or later.

  Plowstow and Saoirse!

  Where had they gotten to? Phoenix moved around as best as he could, looking around him. Debris from the wreckage floated past him, along with the remaining humanoid weapon bot. It still moved its remaining arm, but it was unable to do much as it floated harmlessly past.

  Dead bodies and severed limbs tumbled past. The unblinking stares of the dead questioned Phoenix's role in their demise. He looked each and every one in the face, not taking their death for granted but not allowing it to affect him as it would most. It had been either him or them, and he would make the same choices again without hesitation. Life was cruel like that sometimes.

  Still there was no sign of his crew-mates. He had faith that they had made it out, like he had. They were strong, determined, sly. Saoirse would bully Death until he allowed her to live, and Plowstow would cheat Death for everything he had.

  Phoenix stared at the stars around him and allowed his mind to settle. Purples and blues in the distance mixing with red created art only gods could imagine. They twisted and twirled in a hypnotising display of brilliance.

  A bloated face appeared before him, jerking him out of his daydream. The corpse seemed to still be alive, and its arms swung towards Phoenix. Darkened skin was stretched to the breaking point, and Phoenix tried to decipher who it was. "Rus... Rustem?"

  Rustem's face had ballooned to the point it was unrecognisable as he floated on past. Phoenix was surprised that Rustem hadn't died instantly.