Kristi Helvig - Burn Out

James addressed him. “Sir—”

“Yes, we have a plan,” I interrupted. All heads swiveled to me. James had a questioning look in his eyes, like he was still trying to warn me. I might not be able to trust the rest of them and I might later regret my decision, but part of me must have decided to trust him. The words rushed out before I could stop them. “I’m getting the guns.”

I LED JAMES DOWN THE CORRIDOR TOWARD THE RECREATION room, then beyond it to the closet. I’d forced everyone else into the front room. James and I would bring the guns up to them. I didn’t want anyone else back there with us because a) I didn’t trust them even more than I didn’t trust James and b) I hadn’t yet decided whether I was bringing all of the guns or not. I was thinking of the most deadly ones. If I left the really bad ones there, maybe James wouldn’t tell.

Scratch that. It wouldn’t work to leave some in the room. The Consulate knew Dad had completed all the weapons—Dad told me he’d shown them T.O. right before he took off. They’d come looking for it faster than you could say pistola . I’d have to take them with me, and figure out what to do with them later.

As we reached the closet, I took out a stack of towels and placed them on the floor, then waved my hand over a hidden panel in the back of the door. It had been programmed to only accept my father’s hand and mine.

“I knew it,” said James, as the back of the closet swung inward, taking the rest of the linen-filled shelves with it.

“Of course you did.” I rolled my eyes at him.

He had the decency to look embarrassed. “I didn’t know for sure. It’s just when I came to find a towel for my workout yesterday, it seemed like the logical place for a secret room to be.” He waved his arm ahead of him like a gentleman. “After you.”

“Is there anything you don’t know?” I huffed and stepped through the small entryway. Pitch blackness enveloped us.

I heard him step through the doorway behind me and I turned to find the light panel. He leaned so close I could feel his breath on my face in the darkness. He spoke in a low voice. “There’s plenty I don’t know.”

My heart pounded in my chest. The effect he had on my body was so unfair. It was probably exactly what he wanted too. That would make it easier for all of them to screw me over. I wouldn’t let it happen.

I took a step away from him. “You mean like where the light panel is?” I felt along the wall and located it. The lights clicked on, flickered a little, then held a steady glow. James stared at me, like he wanted to say something, then turned and surveyed his surroundings like a good soldier.

Several boxes were stacked in a back corner of the rectangular-shaped room, some empty and others filled with the garden variety guns like Kale and his crew had. Dad thought it was a good idea to keep some around “just in case.” He was big on “just in case” things.

Clear cases lined the four walls of the room and each one contained different weapons. Every case had its own panel lock on it. I’d be doing a lot of hand waving. Good thing it was my ribs and not my wrist that was injured.

James let out a low whistle. “These are some serious guns.”

“That’s why my dad got paid the big bucks. Until he stole them, anyway.” I followed James’ eyes to the center of the large room. He hadn’t noticed it at first. I didn’t blame him. There was an island there about waist high and three feet long. It was completely clear, so it was almost invisible if you weren’t looking right at it. It appeared to hold nothing. I knew better.

I pretended I didn’t see the question in his eyes and started at the first panel. “I’ll get this group out and we’ll take them up first. We should be able to get them all in two trips.” I gestured at the boxes in the corner. “We can pack them in those. Except for the one I’ll use on the Consulate ship.” Without waiting for a response, I waved my hand over the first lock and began removing the guns, being careful not to power them up as I touched them.

James’ voice washed over me. “What happened to your dad? Markus said he … died.”

The desire to open up to him was strong. My resolve to get answers was stronger. “I believe you still owe me the rest of your story first … about your sister.”

“Oh, yeah, that story.” He sighed and looked straight ahead at the wall. “It started when I stole the W.A.R. machine … after my family’s machine had started to break down, along with our air unit. I’d already sealed off the other rooms in the pod to maximize the oxygen saturation, so we all slept in the center room.”

His voice was steely. “I knew a W.A.R. violation could result in death but I thought my gun would be enough to protect my mom, dad, and little sister.” James turned from the imaginary spot on the wall and faced me. “They came in the middle of the night, despite the night storms, so I was caught off guard. My gun was across the room when they came in. The officers saw it and seized it, assuming it was Dad’s. My little sister clung to me, screaming, when they shot him. He died instantly.” He described how his mother’s cries ended in the sharp sounds of more gun blasts.

James’ jaw muscle twitched, the only giveaway that this story caused him pain. He clenched his fist and took a deep breath. “I begged them to spare my sister. Told them it was all my fault and she had nothing to do with it.” He punched one of the gun cases. “They said that the world didn’t need another worthless child to feed and they shot her, her arms still wrapped around me.”

My heart strained, sadness pouring into the space inside me that I tried to keep empty. Tears leaked from my eyes, and I fought the urge to hug him the way my sister used to hug me. I thought of how he tried to protect everyone by keeping them in the same room. “So the space thing …”

His voice was hard. “People are safer if they aren’t around me … or at least I’m not responsible if they die. I know it’s not rational but that’s how I feel. The only solo room on the ship was the captain’s. Kale offered it to me without me asking.” He looked back into my eyes. “Your turn.”

I hadn’t told anyone the full story, not even Markus. Yet it was only fair after everything James just told me. “Dad was told the guns were for the relocation program. In case the government ran into hostile species while exploring new planets. That was partially true, but he found out later they were also going to be used for another reason. He wouldn’t say anything other than it would be ‘against our own.’ ”

James gritted his teeth, like he had an idea what Dad was referring to. I paused, but he shook his head.

“Anyway, they tricked him into coming to a meeting in the pod city. They said they wanted to come to an agreement about the guns, that they understood his position. I think he wanted to believe it was true. That with so few people left in the world, there had to be some good in them. He was wrong.” I pulled another gun from its case and slid it toward James, not looking at him. He stacked it in the crate.

“He never came back from that trip. The story was on the GlobalNet several days later—one of the last before the entire broadcasting system collapsed. I thought it was because they all died. I didn’t know they’d found a new planet. They showed a picture of my father’s abandoned land cruiser and claimed he was found in the wastelands outside their sector. Liars. They murdered him and had the nerve to plead that any surviving relatives contact the Consulate for assistance.” I swallowed.

It was ironic that my father worried the cruiser itself would give us away, as he’d flown it back and forth from the shelter to the pod city. He’d kept it hidden as much as possible behind the cactus grove, and the Consulate would have found it had they searched long enough. In a way, I was lucky they had found Caelia when they did.