Escape From Asylonia, page 30
part #1 of The New War Series
'You guys ready?'
'Oh yeah, brah. I’m looking forward to seeing how Earth’s been getting on without me.’
'Not that great, Sol. Trust me, man.’
'Either way, take me home please, Davey.'
'Yes, Sir.'
David closed his eyes a third time. Wing Commander Attreus reappeared to salute the pilot. David saluted back and slammed his foot against the deck. His father disappeared again.
The ship reversed, backed up until it was almost vertical, and stopped. With one last glance of approval from the General, David Attreus pressed tugged the joystick, punched the accelerator, and took them out of the dark ocean.
LXXXIX.
They rose to the clouds through a shower of enemy fire, avoiding the heaviest impact thanks to the sheer velocity of their ascent to the heavens.
'Oh, holy jezus!’ Sol yelled with a delirious mix of fear and excitement, as the force plastered him to his seat.
Next to him, Rochelle gave a delighted-yet-nervous shriek, calling David's name as she reached out to grab him by the shoulders and found nothing but air.
The pack of Askarians, Temüjin, and Asylonian police officers gave chase. David went on undeterred, conscious of them without affording them too much attention. Some came close and were taken out by the thrusts of the escaping ship, others pounced from above and were bulldozed out of the way as though made of dust. Others still fired on, their bullets splashing into the watery grave below. Still they came, a never ending line of enemy ships, closing in, rising upwards beyond the clouds.
They careered towards the ledge of the atmosphere, where the darkness of space and the bright sun of Asylonia collided in an ocean of purples and blues, glimmering with spacedust.
David felt the fear fill his throat. His heart clobbered at his chest. Sweat seeped from his forehead and the palms of his hands, loosening his grip on the yoke. The ship lurched and tumbled.
'General, they've got us surrounded, we’re not gonna make it. I don’t think I can do this.’
General Noah Fallon opened his mouth. A violent cough came in place of words. From out of a red, swollen face, his eyes locked on the pilot. His arms swayed madly for position. When they found one that worked, the General crawled unsteadily from his seat and staggered around the cockpit, his knuckles scratching unwillingly against the control bank, his elbows jarring against the seats. All the while he glared at David through bulging eyes.
'Keep...on...going,’ he ordered.
Rochelle reached out to grab the General, but again found nothing but air.
'Noah, sit down!'
'C'mon old man, you'll get us all killed!' Sol yelled as he too made an unsuccessful attempt on Noah’s arm.
The General staggered on, crawling up the ship towards the gun cabin. David pushed on. The enemy ships pushed in. Noah fell against the gun. A hail of bullets rocked the ship. Noah hooked his fingers around the gun to steady himself. Out front, David gritted his teeth, gave his head a quick, vigorous shake, and continued the ascent. A high-pitched note played endlessly in his ears over the low rumble of the ship’s engine ,and the sonic roar of surrounding wind.
Noah's fingers fell upon the trigger. His veins throbbed against flush red skin, slick with sweat. His limbs grew strained, and his mouth bayed with pain and adrenaline. It was a sound matched only by the ferocious cry from the pilot, one of fear, aggression, and determination. On he went, watching in amazement as a volley of fire slashed across the bow of aTemüjin ship, causing it to spin into an attacking police car which, in turn, hurtled back into another. Noah pumped more wildfire at their attackers, knocking two Askarian ships clean out of the sky. David's deep, guttural growl grew into a yelp, a cheer, a hysterical laugh.
'You got them! Son of a bitch, General, you got them, Sir!'
In the back, Noah's sweaty palm slipped from the gun and he slid down the ship, his body bouncing from one side to the next, like a pinball of tired bones and bruised flesh.
'Arghuhahh,’ he cried, jabbing his fists above him, looking for something to grab onto and finding nothing. David went on with the ascent, his path no longer obstructed by opposing ships.
Sol sprung from his seat and held out a solid arm, grabbing Noah by the scruff of the collar, and dragging the General's body against his own.
'How many times I gotta save your ass?' he cracked.
His voice came strained with the effort of helping Noah back to his seat, and yet friendly for exactly the same reason.
'One last time for old time's sake, huh?' Noah grinned apologetically.
'It better be one last time,' Sol grinned.
General Noah Fallon collapsed in his seat, the physical toll of throwing himself at the ship's guns finishing off what the drugs pumped into his system by Rochelle had started.
'Don't worry, pal. I tell you one thing for sure, I ain't planning on going back to all that shit ever again. God damn, even my worst day sober was a thousand times better than my best day drunk off my ass. No, I’m done. Get me out of here, please Lieutenant.'
'Yes Sir, I'll try my best,' David said. 'I'll...'
His words trailed off. Rochelle reached out for her spot on his shoulder.
'What’s the...' He began.
Then he saw Rochelle and followed her line of vision. She was looking up, beyond him, into the fields of space and stars before them.
'...Oh.'
Noah looked up too, then Sol. The four of them stared into the bright white and blue flames of the electrical storm surrounding the planet. It flashed its teeth and spat out at them, storming forth to meet them.
Noah broke into a coughing fit, holding it back just long enough to look David in the eye and speak.
'Do or die, Lieutenant. This is it, do or die.’
David Attreus stayed on course. With one hand wrapped around the joystick, he reached out for Noah with the other and squeezed his trembling fist.
‘Do or die, he repeated. ‘Now or never, man.’
He took his fingers from Noah and pushed them towards Rochelle. She took his hand in her own and squeezed.
'You can do this, David.' she told him.
He believed her. He found he believed her more than he had ever believed Sherri Attreus when she had told him he could not.
'Damn right I can!' He replied, loud and confident.
Swept up in the moment, Sol punched the air.
'Alright, brah!'
The electrical storm thrashed out at the emptiness of the air, taking nothingness into its mouth, and regurgitating it as callous lightning. It swallowed the ship in a deep cloud of light. Blue flashes of electricity hooked themselves into the stolen Temüjin ship, jerking her around. The lightning became strings around the battlecruiser, the nucleus of the storm taking on the role of puppet master. David's knuckles turned white through the strength of his grip on the joystick, losing his struggle to keep the ship steady. The storm grabbed the battlecruiser in its magnificent claws and flipped her upside down. Inverted, The battlecruiser went shooting through the eye of the storm. Her crew of four were slammed recklessly against the walls, and against each other.
David watched limbs flying overhead. Rochelle's skull struck the deck, then her stunned and lifeless body bounced about the cockpit and slapped against the opposite edge. Sol reached out to grab her, only to meet with the same fate. Noah stayed exactly where he was, slumped upside down and barely conscious in his seat. Once again David found himself at the mercy of the storm, toyed and played with. He tensed every muscle in his body to hold himself in place. Fighting with the joystick, he looked down at his hands to avoid the strobes of painful light gleaming at the visor.
At last, the storm showed signs of boredom. It raged on, intent to do so until infinity’s end, but had grown apathetic towards a ship which showed no hope of putting up a decent fight. With one last lick of a lightning tongue, it spat the battlecruiser from its electric mouth.
David growled, angry and triumphant. The veins of his neck throbbed. Tears rushed from his eyes as he wrestled the battlecruiser out of a spin, and into an upright position. The jaws of the storm closed behind them. The enormous silence of space welcomed them in its eerie embrace. David slowed the ship to a gradual halt until she hung there above the endless emptiness. A vile coughing fit dragged Noah back to life and pinned him to his seat.
‘Good job, kid,’ he managed to mumble before falling back into a semi-conscious coma.
David felt Sol’s giant hand whack his shoulder.
'Way to go, Davey. I knew you could do it,’ the wrestler said, groggily.
'Yes, me too, David. Thank you.’
Rochelle's South African accent ignited a fresh light in David. He turned in his seat and saw her, looking back at him with one eye open, and her lips slanted into a smile. He crawled towards Rochelle. She fell into him and he held her close.
'Thank God you're alright, ‘Chelle.’
Rochelle pressed her lips against his cheek and pointed to the pilot chair.
'I’m fine, David,’ she yawned. ‘It’s time we were getting home though.’
He kissed her back and climbed into his seat. His muscles relaxed. His heart subdued to a subtle beat. The hard part was over. From here it was plain sailing back to Earth. He sat up straight and reached for the joystick.
'Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. This is your pilot, David, speaking. I'd like to take a moment to thank you for flying Air Attreus today. We'll be carrying out our final checks in just a moment, after which we’re ready for take off. The air out there is moderate, and shouldn’t cause us too many problems on our flight to Planet Earth. So sit back, relax, and enjoy the flight.’
The final checks were made. The ship had survived the storm with only cosmetic damage. His fuel levels were good. Everything was in place. It was time to plot a course and go home. He looked at their coordinates and felt his heart sink into his stomach.
'Shit.'
XC.
Sol bolted forward in his seat.
'Don't go saying that now, Davey. What's the...'
David brought his arm back across Sol’s chest.
'Just sit back, Sol. Please? I’ve got this under control.’
He drew back on the joystick, slammed his foot into pedals the shape of amphibian feet, and took off with haste.
'But I don't...' Sol began in protest.
'You will, man. You will.’
And he did. They all did.
Madromedelia’s dense atmosphere swarmed around them in a sea of brilliant reds and glittering orange flames. Streaks of hot pink whipped back and forth, signposting the nearby planet of Atillia. David punched at the keyboard beneath one of the visicreens, zooming in on a world as familiar to his memory as Earth. As if on cue, an Atillian Stealth Warrior came into view. The warrior charged at them in a blur of metallic red and silver, the fuel pack strapped to his spine shooting scarlet flames into the atmosphere, and his guns raging with a passionate lust for death.
David beat his fist against the joystick and stared dead ahead, face to face with a real, live Stealth Warrior.
'Come on then,' he said coldly. ‘Let’s dance, dirt bag.’
He was no longer in deep space, with his reality invaded by a creature from the land of his fantasy. He was back home already. He was playing Jetfighter II: Battle of Atillia, blasting his way through his favourite video game, and destroying Atillian Stealth Warriors left, right and centre.
He was ready. He had taken down many pixelated warriors in his time. The real thing posed only a minor threat compared to the slew of aggressors he had encountered over the last several days. The warrior fired at the hull of the battlecruiser. The ship shunted forward. The Atillian pounced after it, but David thrust the joystick, and sent the tail end of the Temüjin Ship into his opponent, knocking the fuel pack from its armour. The creature hovered helplessly. David went after it. He felt nothing but the faintest tinge of satisfaction as the battlecruiser ran over the prone Steal Warrior.
Slowing to a hover, he rubbed his hands together in triumph.
'Eat dirt, slime ball.’
He put his foot down and pressed on. The satisfied silence in the ship was broken only by the soft bursts of breath from Rochelle as she fell into a gentle sleep. Sol nodded off too, his ruptured snoring a blaring counterpoint to hers.
Noah Fallon arched back his seat, glancing over at Rochelle. She was safe. The doctor was safe and would be returned home to Earth. It had taken three years, and some incredible kid to do it, but his mission was finally complete.
With Asylonia now nothing more than a small dot on the horizon and a bad memory, the General fell into the first peaceful, nightmare-free sleep he had enjoyed in three years.
David Attreus remained wide awake. He flew on home to Earth, hoping that they were not too late, praying that there was still time to turn things around in The New War.
TO BE CONTINUED...
David, Rochelle, Noah and Sol will return in:
THE NEW WAR - PART 2: HELL ON EARTH
Be the first to hear about The New War - Part 2, learn more about the author and access exclusive content by visiting:
WWW.THENEWWARBOOKS.COM
Christopher Skoyles is a writer and therapist who divides his time between his physical home in the North of England and his spiritual home on some far-flung continent. The New War - Escape from Asylonia is his first novel.
Other books by Christopher Skoyles include:
Ghosts in the Cosmos - A Collection of Poetry
Available from Amazon at
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Christopher Skoyles, Escape From Asylonia
