Kristi Helvig: Burn Out

I watched and waited, but I didn’t hear anything. Strange. After another minute, I relaxed. How stupid do you look pointing a gun at a rock? Sweat ran in rivulets down my protective suit, as I roasted in the dark reddish light.

Screw this. I leaned down to pull up the door and go inside. That’s when I noticed them.

Several pebbles were scattered around the shelter door. Almost as if they’d been thrown by someone—

“Now!” a voice yelled.

I dove behind the boulder to my left, barely escaping the several rounds of lasers that sprayed the rock.

After a moment, the rapid fire ceased, and I peeked around the side of the stone. Not two, three, or even four, but five sunsuited figures emerged from behind the rocks in the distance. Five bright-white suits headed for my faded red one. They had their guns aimed right at my boulder. I gripped Trigger tight and swallowed hard.

I recognized the swagger of one of the suits, even though he was still some distance away.

Oh, how sweet.

Markus brought friends.

APPARENTLY MARKUS THOUGHT I WOULDN’T SHOOT AT AN old friend, even if said friend shot at me first. He was so wrong. I touched the small trigger panel and shot a stream of electric blue pulses his way. He and one of the other suits flattened themselves to the ground, crawling back toward the rock they came from. How fitting. The other three dashed back behind the second one. A chill ran through me as I realized my rock was the rock—the one where my father found my sister and mother dead. Where they’d been turned into human cinders.

“Tora, it’s me, Markus. Don’t shoot!” his voice shouted through my helmet com.

Was he kidding? “Oh, sorry, Markus. Was that supposed to be friendly fire? I must have gotten confused, with those lasers coming at me and all.”

He stood up, still holding the gun, but in a relaxed pose with his hand off the trigger. “Come on. You know what I’m here for—I’m not leaving without the guns.”

I called back. “You know they won’t work for you. Trust me; they’ll never work for you.”

“What do I care? I’m not the one that’ll be using them, but I’m getting an unbelievable payment from the ones who will be.”

“Payment big enough to erase the guilt of killing an innocent girl?” I asked, my finger on the trigger panel. The gun hummed softly in my hand.

Markus laughed and called back, “Innocent girls don’t curse the way you do. And I’m not trying to kill you, just disable you a bit; the Consulate needs you alive. But yes, they’re giving me an Unlimited Currency Chip for the guns.”

I wanted to kick myself for telling him about being the sole person who could fire them. Markus would likely kill children, if any were left, for a UCC. With so few people remaining after the massive die-offs, a move was made to change to a united global government, coined the Consulate, an international currency system, and an international language. Good thing I already spoke English or I would have been muy screwed.

Markus and I faced each other, about fifty yards of dirt between our rock fortresses. This would have been cute if we’d been six years old.

“So, my father’s guns for a UCC. Our esteemed Consulate has already declared itself the ruler of Caelia?” I guessed that not only was Markus’ desire for the weapons at the behest of the government, they’d probably financed this whole attack. They really wanted the guns.

“Something like that,” Markus said.

Everyone had currency chips implanted in their arms that denoted their net worth. If you were poor, you still got the implant but received a minuscule currency amount—the equivalent of space-age welfare. Currency Chips (CC’s) were how people obtained the W.A.R.’s when the water ran out. No currency left on your CC, no water.

I got lucky because my dad was the guy who created bioenergetic warfare. Dad didn’t have a UCC, but he was rich. He cashed in the bulk of his CC balance on all the equipment he could get from his friends in the pod cities. Luckily, he spent most of it before the Consulate realized he wasn’t giving over the guns and zeroed out his chip. I’d say they won in the end though, because Dad was dead.

“Wow, Markus, there must be so much use for it on Caelia. What are you gonna buy … an ocean? The whole planet?”

This elicited a laugh from him. “I like that idea. The whole planet. We’ll have to see about that.”

Movement caught my eye and I ducked down as another spray of blasts hit the rock.

“Crap, I missed her.” A female voice. She sounded about my age, which surprised me. A man shooting at me didn’t surprise me. Maybe that wasn’t fair to all men, but many of the male survivors had been brutes. But a girl burner? Another shot came from that direction, and I pressed the trigger panel on my gun. Blue sparks lit up the rock around them. A small chunk of the rock blasted into the air from the laser and fell to the ground nearby.

I sent the streaming blue light toward Markus before he could shoot again. He dove just in time and I sank back behind the rock. With five of them and only one of me, the odds were not in my favor. My only advantage was a kick-ass gun, but five regular guns seemed like a lot at the moment. I wished I had my favorite super-gun right now, but that bad boy was in storage.

My lungs labored for air despite the oxygen in my suit. Sweat poured down my body and dripped into my eyes, yet I couldn’t remove my helmet to wipe my face. The sun was cooking me from the inside out. I was muy caliente , and not in the good way. Damn, I was thirsty. All I wanted was to get back underground, bolt the door, and get some water, but the door was a good ten feet away. I’d have to turn my back to the group to open the door and they’d put laser holes in me faster than you could say agua .

I yelled from behind my rock. “Where’s your ship, dirtbag?”

“I didn’t bring mine … it barely made the trip last time. The one I hitched a ride in is over the ridge,” he called back. “You wanna give up yet, sweetcakes? You’re a little outnumbered in case you didn’t notice.”

“Fat chance. I’m guessing you burners will be the ones giving up.” The ridge was over a half mile behind them. That meant they must be even hotter and thirstier than I was. Maybe they’d be forced to leave soon if I could keep them at a standstill. What I wouldn’t give to get to that ship, but it wouldn’t do me much good. I couldn’t fly it myself. I’d need the dirtbag to pilot it, and I didn’t see any way that was going to happen.

I heard the sound before it registered. A roar that grew louder each second. The air kicked up around me and the red light of the sun blazed with anger. Terrific. A sun storm. I stashed the gun in my pants, dug my fingers underneath the rock, and hung on for dear life. The fierce solar winds ripped through, whipping one of the larger pebbles by my door into the side of my suit. It made sharp contact with one of my ribs, and I yelped in pain. I really hoped it wasn’t fractured—another medical issue was the last thing I needed.

My suit wove itself back together again where the rock had pierced it. At least the high-tech material would protect me from oxygen loss. I could easily die from their lasers, but I’d be breathing up until the bitter end.

The shrieking of the winds intensified and my body lifted as the gusts threatened to take me for a one-way ride. I gripped the underside of the rock tighter, fighting to hang on, my hands so sweaty I was afraid they’d slip right out of the gloves. Small rocks continued their assault, plunking the sides of my helmet. It didn’t help that I couldn’t stop coughing from the crap flying through my lousy filtration system. The muscles in my arm burned. I didn’t know how much longer I could hold on.