Hunted, Page 3

doesn’t match our approach vector. There’s no way there could be anything from the wreck there.”

  Stephanie continued to peer into the distance, but there was nothing except endless sand. Then suddenly she saw it again. A glint, and it was gone. Could it be a reflection from binoculars? She hopped down from the mound, landing in a crouch, and opened her mouth to speak.

  They felt the explosion before they heard it. The ground heaved, throwing them down, Jensen’s face contorting in pain. The horizon behind them flared into white. Then it darkened as a huge cloud of sand rose into the sky, consuming it, clouding out the sun. Then came the wind, howling, tearing at them, ripping their clothes with wave after wave of jagged sand.

  Stephanie covered her head with her hands and screwed her eyes tightly closed. Then as suddenly as it had begun, it was over.

  They climbed to their feet, dusting themselves off, shaking sand from hair and clothes. Jensen spat, saliva and blood instantly absorbed by the desert. For a moment, no one spoke.

  “I’m sorry,” said Knutsen. It was not clear if he was addressing the shuttle, his crew or their passenger. Stephanie laid a hand on his arm.

  “Pål, before the explosion . . .” she paused to formulate the right words in her head. “I saw something. It looked to me like someone was using binoculars out there.”

  Captain Knutsen twisted his mouth in a wry grimace and shook his head. “Couldn’t be. There’s no way a rescue party would be here so soon.”

  Stephanie held his gaze, her brown eyes holding his blue. “I know. That’s what worries me.”

  He turned to look in the direction where she had seen the flash of light. “You don’t think . . .”

  “I don’t know what to think. But something is coming this way.”

  Jensen looked at them, his gaze alternating from one to the other. He seemed to be having problems breathing but he managed to spit out a single word.

  “What?”

  Stephanie bit her bottom lip. “If it’s not a rescue, then either they’re indigenous, or it’s them. From the Argoss. The mutants.”

  Jensen laughed nervously, until he realized she wasn’t joking. “You can’t be serious!”

  Knutsen nodded. “Makes sense. There were shuttles missing from the hull of the Argoss. We just assumed they were destroyed or lost during the journey. Maybe those things used them to make landfall.”

  Stephanie unslung her multigun, holding it in combat ready position. “If that’s true, then we need to get as far away from them as possible. I don’t plan to die on this rock.”

  Knutsen spat sand and wiped his mouth. “Agreed. Let’s move out.”

  They set off, walking as quickly as they could in the shifting sand. Changing direction to the west, they used whatever rocks they could find for cover, trying to make it as hard as possible to be seen by whatever was coming. Thankfully, it appeared that there would be little chance of anyone following their footprints, as the wind started to pick up again and they were soon erased.

  Jensen stumbled and Knutsen moved to help, wrapping one of the man’s arms over his shoulder. Supporting half his weight, Knutsen urged him on.

  The day ended abruptly as the sun sank below the horizon. Darkness was not absolute, as the evening sky was awash with stars. Palsenz’ own tiny moon appeared as a bright dot, moving over the surface of the night.

  Exhaustion brought the group to a halt soon enough, and they huddled in the lee of an overhanging rock that was not quite a cave, though it did provide some protection from the wind.

  Stephanie rolled a head-sized rock into the half circle of their shelter. Then she fired her multigun with a low power setting at it. She held a continuous beam on the stone until it began to glow white-hot.

  That done, they shared some rations and sat back, the heat radiating from the rock suffusing them with more than just its warmth. It comforted them, made them feel somehow less vulnerable.

  Jensen carefully maneuvered himself into a supine position. His breathing was ragged, and he had a waxy complexion to this skin. Stephanie put two fingers on his neck.

  “Relax. I just want to check your pulse.”

  Jensen gave the barest of nods. His pulse was fast. She did not need to time it to know he was experiencing problems. Plus he felt hot. There was a thermometer in the medkit and she fished it out, pressing it against his neck. A moment later it beeped. 103 degrees. He was burning up.

  She poked about in the medkit bag and found a strip of pills marked ‘General Antibiotic.’ She examined the instructions, then popped two out. She passed Jensen a bottle of water and the pills.

  “We’ll need to keep a watch during the night,” said Knutsen.

  Jensen struggled to raise himself, but Stephanie pushed him back down. “No. Not you. You’re on meds, have a damaged lung and a fever. We’ll manage.”

  Knutsen nodded approvingly. “Steph, I’m pretty wiped. Can you take the first two hours, then wake me?”

  “Absolutely. Don’t worry. I’ll keep the rock hot.”