Resurrection Planet by Lucas Cole

Author:Lucas Cole
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9781440486340
Publisher: CreateSpace
Published: 2009-12-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER XV

Camp

Not receiving any offer of help, I strap Kimbrough once again to my back. The procedure seems to fascinate and amuse the deadheads, who, because of Taggert’s bandanna, I have named the Blue Brigade. The blues make those rapid facial movements toward each other and then grin ghastly jack-o-lantern smiles at the jokes they must be making at my expense. Better to amuse them than to anger them. Taggert grunts in our direction—skipping any finesse of facial movements—and we fall into line.

“Oh-oh, don’t look now, doc, but we’re taking the high road.” The troops start up the ledge that follows the rock wall, Peter leading the way. Even Tiny Tim is ascending, showing considerable skill in the use of his makeshift crutch.

“I cannot see where we are heading,” Kimbrough says. “I can only stare at this ugly fellow behind us.”

Immediately behind us is Taggert, who, upon hearing Kimbrough’s remark, actually forces a smile—and seeing what was left of his teeth and mandible, I wish he hadn’t.

“He understands everything you and I say, doc. Just something to keep in mind.”

“Yes. No offense meant, Mr. Taggert.” But, of course there is no reply.

I slip on a loose stone, but Taggert grabs me, pulls back toward the cliff wall. The stone pitches off the narrow ledge and down to the ground a hundred feet below. We’re still ascending.

“For God’s sake, man. Watch your step.”

“Sorry, doc. But I was thinking—.”

“Can you think and climb at the same time? If not, just climb.”

“Take it easy. I was thinking. The blues, the reds. Makes me think of Old Earth rival gangs, back in Europe and America. Known by their colors. Same thing going on here; in fact, you will notice that each of these dead—uh, these men—are wearing a strip of blue fabric on their arms. Taggert’s bandanna denotes his leadership role, I’m guessing. Lieutenant, right?” I chance a look back and Taggert grunts. I take that as an affirmative.

“Yes, their colors,” Kimbrough says. “Keeps them from harming their own men in a fight with the reds.”

The cliff wall and the ledge start to bend in a new direction and the view opens up below: the reddish sand, the plateau with its scattered black rock fragments, the large quarry, the warped metal fingers protruding from the remains of Station C. In the distance, the two suns of Sybaris gleam faintly as they descend toward a band of pinkish and purple hills.

“Doc, in a second, you’ll have a fantastic view. You’ll also see what’s left of Station C.”

“Yes, the explosions.”

“Explosions? More than one.”

“The first was within the station. Killed most of the scientists outright. The other two were in the quarry itself—where most of the miners and some technicians—like Peter—were gathered to meet with Spangler. That was the worst of it. These men—those who weren’t blasted into atoms—were trapped down there in the noxious atmosphere created by the blasts for a time. The results are—well, you can see for yourself.”

The path twists again, forcing me to

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