Page 57 of Star-Born Anomaly
He hadn’t been told this was a rescue mission.
Carver pulled his gun and fired. His shot hit nothing but air.
He blinked, then the fucker was in front of him, delivering a punch that stole his soul. Carver flew, and so did his weapon. He landed with athudand acrack,and his breath abandoned his lungs the moment he hit the ground.
A circle of blue sky rimmed his vision. His visor interface displayed data: wind speeds, temperature, and a helmet diagnostic after receiving the hit. It tracked the fucker as he neared at five kilometers an hour.
A shadow blocked the sun, then a tall form.
A disquieting sensation traveled over Carver’s body at the fucker’s perusal. He waited for another attack, his senses attuned to the other’s movements.
But then the man took a step back.
Not today.Carver’s hand shot out, and he engaged the shocker embedded in his PALM, its intensity level set to maximum.
The charge connected, and took the fucker down like a charm.
Carver lay there for one breath, then another before he rolled to his knees and stood, his eyes never leaving the prone form.Shit, that hurt.His entire body throbbed from the hit and fall.
He stared at the unconscious man. His glasses were askew, his eyes closed and jaw slack. The beginnings of radiation burns etched his cheeks a pink color.
Was he what Carver thought he was? He had short hair like a defender, and didn’t look different from any other man he’d met in his life.
Not taking any chances.Carver aimed at the man’s forehead and fired. Brain matter and blood sprayed across the ice, crimson on white.
The back of his neck prickled, and Carver lifted his head to peer toward the main building, a hovercart parked out front. If Dr. Lambdin hadn’t been changed into a Calypson, then she was probably dead.
Unwanted dread swirled in his chest. He’d signed up for a life-or-death deadline. Hopefully, the footage of the Calypson walking on Earth without a suit would be enough of a consolation prize to keep him alive.
He glanced up at the sky. He didn’t have much time before the eye of the storm passed. Might not take off and get clear of it if he wasn’t quick here.
Keeping his gun in hand, he trudged toward the outpost. He left his other gun where it fell, not wanting to waste time. It was programmed to his bio-signature anyway. No one else could use it without some major re-programming.
The closer he approached the building, the less ice covered the ground, making it easier to walk.
Kerclunk. The sound made him pause, fingers twitching. Metallic shutters descended over a large section of windows, covering them completely. He squinted. Someone was alive in there. He stalked toward the steps leading to the main entrance, then climbed them two at a time.
He pressed his hand to the door’s control, his PALM interacting with the outpost’s systems.Interesting. The building was under lockdown. Someone wanted to keep him out.
Lifting his hand away, he tapped on his PALM, then pressed it against the control panel. The contact allowed him to access the outpost’s security systems. Then, with a tap of his fingers, he overrode it using his universal codes.
Kerclank. The shutters retracted. The outer door to the decontamination zone opened.
With his weapon loose in his hand, Carver stepped inside. As soon as the doors closed behind him, a sheen of cleansing fluid covered his body, then trickled through the grating beneath his boots. Air swirled around him, the sound loud enough to mute everything else.
While the process continued, he scanned what he could see through the transparent doors. A basic hallway led in two directions. His eyes caught on a bundle of white on the ground, a UV-suit.
Carver turned his head slightly, toward where he’d left the body. He couldn’t see it from this angle, but he now questioned whether he’d killed a Calypson or someone else. The man hadn’t been armed.
Seconds ticked by, and his annoyance at the decontamination process grew. Finally, the light beside the door turned green, and the doors slid open. He stepped into the second portion of the decontamination zone.
Nothing moved on the other side of the door.
A wall compartment hissed open, waiting for him to disrobe.Not likely.He wouldn’t step into a building without protection, especially when that fucker had come from inside.
Carver pressed his hand to the panel, circumventing the process. It took too long, but the light turned green on the panel. The interior door slid open with a hiss of pressure.
Silence throbbed in contrast to the hum and hush of the decontamination process. He touched his PALM, adjusting his view to partial infrared. He scanned left, then right.
