Resonant Abyss Read online

  “You might be a bad guy,” I yelled, suddenly feeling as though Ozzie and I were circling one another as we floated up into a sky filled with clouds and light, “but it’s no reason to enslave innocent lives all for the sake of your illegal mining operations.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me,” I said. “You’re a bully. A murderer. And you need to be stopped.”

  “Mr. McBride?”

  “What!”

  “I think you need to consider your answer to my next question very carefully…”

  17

  “Who the fuck are you?” Ozzie asked as he removed two pistols from behind his back.

  He pointed the weapons at my face, cocking both triggers at the same time. But the guns looked more like toys than anything I should be afraid of. In fact, the scene of this giant hulk of a man pointing children’s toys at me made me laugh—harder than I anticipated. It was a deep giggle that rose up from the center of my belly. Within seconds I was laughing so hard I was crying. My face hurt. My gut hurt. I hunched over, holding my stomach and wiping tears from my eyes.

  That’s when I heard the sound of Ozzie laughing too. I peeked up just enough to see him lower the pistols and start to belly laugh with me. The cigar in the corner of his mouth bounced as he did, which made me laugh even more. Damn thing looked so funny sitting there, flicking up and down. Gods, why was this so hilarious?

  “You’re a bully! he says,” Ozzie said, roughly repeating my accusation from seconds ago. The man was laughing nearly as hard as I was. “And you need to be stopped!”

  “Yeah,” I replied, still doubled over in gut-wrenching laughter. “You do.”

  “Oh, that’s good, McBride.” Ozzie stuffed one pistol in the back of his pants, pulled out his cigar, and wiped his eyes with the back of his forearm. “That’s real good, mate. Got me going there.”

  I felt my laughter dying down, and I was able to stand up straight again. All the energy I’d used seemed to have an effect on the haze in the room. It was thinning—but only mildly.

  “You really got me.”

  “Yeah, got me too…” I replied. I stretched by back, enjoying the last chuckles. Laughing was wonderful. I liked it. But I didn’t like Ozzie. Why were we laughing together again?

  “And you called the slaves exquisite,” he added, stuffing the second pistol behind his back, still smiling. “Never heard that one before. You really did sample a little too much of the wares, mate.”

  “I sure did.”

  “But exquisite?” He shook his head. “You weren’t far off. Some of those bitches are damned exotic. Put up a hell of a fight too. And it’s a right pity how many I kill after I have my way with ’em. But I can’t let them go on living if they hurt me back. You know what I’m saying, mate?”

  The haze was sucked out of the office in an instant. Suddenly, I could see everything—feel everything—in crisp, painful detail. I didn’t know if the myst had finally worn off or if the adrenaline surge from my temper had just canceled all the effects. Either way, I was back, and this bastard needed to be taught a lesson. The tiny voice in my head reminded me I couldn’t win against Ozzie in a fight. It was the same voice that told me not to slug the chief, and the same voice that told me not to fight with Heather. But did I listen?

  Hells, no.

  For whatever reason, I pictured Monty’s sister. I’d never met the girl. Had no idea what she looked like or how old she’d been when Ozzie raped her and slit her throat. But it didn’t matter. All that kid’s grief surged into me, filling me with a rage so deep I had to let out or it was going to kill me.

  Suddenly, like a neutron bomb under a couch, my right fist exploded out from my shoulder and crushed Ozzie’s nose. The cigar went flying as the giant man reeled from the blow. But the demon inside me had hardly been loosed. There was more… so much more.

  I delivered a left swing to the man’s ribs, sure I felt a few of them give. A right hook landed against his left cheek, cracking something—either in my hand or his jaw. But it didn’t matter. I drilled the man with my fists. Charges of stinging electricity shot up my arms as the pain tried to register in my brain—but I was moving too quickly think about it.

  Finally, Ozzie brought his guard up, blood gushing from his nose. He roared something unintelligible and then charged me. I could see his right hand move back, readying for a punch to my gut. As his fist shot forward, I twisted to the left and felt the devastating blow grazed my abdomen. He swung with his other fist, this time landing a blow on my back.

  The hit took my breath away. It dropped me to my knees, but I refused to go all the way down. I knew this was a bad position to be in. Granted, a referee would give a fighter time to stand back up in the ring. But this wasn’t a boxing match. A hammer-fist blow would be coming for my head and shoulders in a split second.

  I dropped my shoulder and rolled away from Ozzie, feeling the air move through the space I’d just occupied. My spine screamed in protest as I rolled to one knee, seeing Ozzie recover from a missed two-handed swing. Blood streamed through the air as the giant raised his head at me, shoulders low. He charged a second time, hands open and driving toward me.

  I made fists and brought them up under Ozzie’s chin, smashing his jaw shut. But it was too little to deter his momentum. He plowed into me, hands clamping down on my biceps like vices. Blood splattered against my face and my body flew backward, crashing against the office floor. We slid to a halt before Ozzie released one hand and drilled a fist toward my head. But I twisted just in time for his knuckles to crack against the ground. He swore, arm recoiling from the missed strike.

  I brought my leg up, driving my knee into the burley man’s groin—unless the bastard was a eunuch, there wasn’t a guy alive who wouldn’t drop at a forceful strike to the nether regions. But Ozzie must have guessed my intent and rolled his hips just enough to keep the full energy of my attack at bay. My leg bumbled across his thighs.

  Ozzie returned the blow with one of his own, dropping a knee into my stomach as he tried to pin me to the floor with both hands. Again, the air was knocked out of me. But growing up as a human punching bag, I’d learned to keep fighting whether or not I could breathe. Ozzie’s sudden focus on pinning me down combined with the force he’d exerted on my gut made him top-heavy. So I went with the advantage and brought both my legs up to strike him in the ass. Were it any other person, they would have been driven clear of me, head first. The blow only managed to knock Ozzie forward one step. But that was all I needed.

  I slammed my boots back on the ground and used the treads to draw my own ass toward my heels. Once out from under him, I twisted and threw myself at his backside. Ozzie sailed forward, colliding with the wall adjacent to the door. I heard something crack as my own mass added to the impact against the barrier. But the giant spun, flinging me aside, and spit a mouthful of blood onto the ground.

  “You’re dead,” he said, seething. “And I’m going to enjoy devouring your flesh.”

  “Yeah? Well you’re dead too, Oppenheimer.” I moved to withdraw my pistol from behind my back, but Ozzie withdrew one of his first.

  “Ah, ah, ah,” he said, pointing it at me.

  I abandoned the attempt and put my hands over my head.

  “So I’m dead too, am I, mate?” he asked, then chuckled. “I think you need to reexamine the facts.”

  “Sir,” came Lars’ voice over comms. “Are you alright?”

  “No!” I replied.

  “No?” questioned Ozzie. “Then I’m afraid you’re going to die an ignorant son of a bitch.”

  “Sir, can you confirm that you’re in peril?” Lars asked.

  “Yes!” I shouted.

  Ozzie winced. “Yes, you’re an ignorant—”

  “Son of a bitch,” I finished for him. “And yes, you’re going to shoot me. But before you do, I just thought you should know that they’re on the way here right now.”

  “What are you talking about, McBride?” Ozzie asked, his f
ace twisting into a crooked sneer.

  “They’re entering the atmosphere, heading straight for the dock just as soon as possible.”

  “Sir, if you are speaking to me, I am failing to make the connection—”

  Ozzie shot me a face of mock surprise. “Are they? Who? The syndicate? The families?” He scoffed.

  “They will be victorious!” I proclaimed.

  “You’re still on the myst, mate,” said Ozzie. “And it’s too bad because your sources checked out and you were going to be very wealthy. Instead, you’re just gonna make me more money.”

  “Victorious, sir?” asked Lars. “Are you telling me that you wish for Victor to head to the docking port here above the mine?”

  “Hells, yeah I am!” I declared.

  “Your gig is up, McBride—or whatever you real name is. You probably don’t even work for them.” Ozzie took a step toward me. “Do you have any idea how many times someone’s tried to take over this mine? Granted, yours has been the most convincing by far. You almost had me.”

  “It doesn’t change the fact that they’re coming,” I replied. “And there’s nothing you can do to stop it.”

  “For the last time, who?”

  “And what’s their ETA?” I asked.

  “What? Why are you asking me? You’re the one making the claims.”

  “Ten minutes, sir,” Lars replied.

  “Hold on a sec, mate.” Ozzie used his pistol to motion me to turn my head, then took another step closer. “What have we got here?” He saw my earpiece. “You’re talking to someone? But that’s…”

  “Impossible? You really should get a Lars.”

  “A what?”

  “A Lars. Could have prevented this—” I extended my arm in a quick jab so fast it snapped Ozzie’s head back. His pistol fired, shooting into the ceiling. I wrested the firearm from his hand, manipulating the mechanics of his thumb joint. The weapon clattered to the ground and Ozzie groaned, covering his mouth with his free hand. I punched him again, this time striking his throat. The man buckled, letting out a hoarse gasp. With any luck, I’d broken his windpipe. But I wasn’t so lucky. He bent and reached for his pistol.

  “I’m opening Oppenheimer’s office for you now,” Lars said. The doors had barely parted when I lunged toward them. I was still in midair, flying into the hallway, when the first bullet whizzed so close to my head that the breaking air was louder than the muzzle report. By the time I slammed into the corridor’s far wall, three more rounds had struck above my head, showering me with debris.

  “Close ’em!” I ordered Lars. “Close ’em right now!”

  Ozzie stepped toward me, firing as the doors snapped tight. Small dimples appeared in the metal as more bullets made pock marks on the other side. Then a loud thud resonated as Ozzie punched or kicked the doors, screaming at me from the other side.

  “I’m going to kill you, McBride!” Another monstrous strike shook the doors. “I’m going to eviscerate you, mate! Then eat you for supper!”

  “Hey, Rachel?” I asked over comms.

  “Go ahead, Flint.”

  “Change of plan. We gotta get everyone out. Now.”

  18

  “What do you mean we have to get everyone out now?” Rachel’s voice sounded strained. And pissed. She was clearly strained and pissed.

  I was heading back down the hallway at a full run, sliding around turns and slamming into walls. “Hmm, how can I make this more clear? Oh, I know: Ozzie is trying to kill me and whatever window we had before, well, it just got very very small.”

  “At the next intersection,” Lars said, “turn left.”

  “Shit, Flint,” Rachel said. “What’d you do?”

  “Nothing, the guy’s a—”

  “You slugged him, didn’t you,” she stated matter of factly.

  “I can confirm that, Miss Fontaine,” replied Lars.

  “Lars!” I yelled in rebuke.

  “Based solely upon audio diagnostics, the samples I have immediately preceding the deterioration of Mr. Reed’s and Mr. Oppenheimer’s discourse are punctuated with sound waves consistent with a fist striking a human skull in the nasal cavity.”

  “Can we save the science lesson for later, pal?” I asked.

  “The elevator is directly ahead, sir. And yes, we can save the lesson on acoustic analysis. Though I was merely trying to—”

  Automatic weapons fire sounded from further down the hallway.

  “Quit trying to impress Rachel and close these godsdamned elevator doors!”

  “As you wish, sir.”

  I dove through the opening as the doors closed, slamming against the car. A line of bullets stitched up the back wall and then dented the backside of the elevator doors. I reached up and hit the icon for the lowest level. A soft chime sounded and the car lurched downward.

  Suddenly, a klaxon began to sound. I didn’t need a play by play in order to know it was for me. Still, Lars felt obligated to provide a detailed explanation.

  “Sir, due to the conflict you initiated with Mr. Oppenheimer, he has initiated the mine’s Level Five security protocol which effectively renders the mine unnavigable.”

  “As in, doors shut, elevators stopped?”

  “Correct, sir.”

  “But I’m still descending.”

  “Of course, sir. As you are fond of saying, they don’t have a me.”

  “I could kiss you on the mouth right now, buddy.”

  “Not only is that physically impossible, but given your affinity for the opposite sex, it is highly improbable.”

  “But there are certain times where it’s absolutely requirable.”

  “You just made that word up, sir.”

  “I did, Lars. And I’m proud of it. Rachel, what are we looking at down there? I need to know what I’m walking into.”

  “Well…” There was a pause, followed by footsteps, like Rachel was trying to move apart from someone in order to keep talking. I could hear the klaxon coming through on her earpiece too, which meant the alert must’ve been mine-wide. “As far as I can tell, we have about five hundred souls down here.”

  “I’m sorry, Rachel. You broke up there. It sounded like you said—”

  “Five hundred,” she repeated.

  “Godsdammit.” That was way more than I thought. I was seriously starting to object to my earlier judgment call of punching Ozzie. This wasn’t going to be some minor escape effort—it was a full-scale mass evacuation. “Godsdammit!”

  “You already mentioned that, sir.”

  “Shut up, Lars!”

  “Shutting up, sir.”

  “Rachel, do you have any leads on escape routes?”

  “Interesting that you should ask,” she replied. “It seems the miners have been working on a side hustle for several decades. There’s a back tunnel that Lars picked up in his scans. Monty took me to it.”

  “I feel a big but coming on here,” I said.

  “Sir, what do big butts have to do with—”

  “Shut up, Lars! Gods!”

  “Right,” Rachel continued. “First off, it’s not exactly finished.”

  “Meaning…”

  “There’s no exit. They haven’t broken through to the surface yet.”

  “And second?”

  “It’s pretty treacherous. As in steep and narrow. One person at a time… a few sections are straight up.”

  “That’s no good,” I said.

  “I agree. The main elevator is still our best bet.”

  “And… divide by five hundred people…” I tried to do the math in my head. As luck would have it, I didn’t need to. I had an AI to do it for me, all in an obnoxious know-it-all voice that I felt like strangling at times like this.

  “Sir, five hundred passengers divided by ten—the maximum allowed in the elevator car—multiplied by a four-minute roundtrip to the surface and back equals three hours, twenty minutes.”

  “That’s no good either,” I said. “We need more options.”


  “Sir, if I may.”

  “Go ahead, Lars.”

  “Well, it’s not an option, sir. Rather, I have additional information which you may—”

  “Spit it out, buddy.”

  “The energy reading I detected earlier is growing.”

  “Can you be any more specific?” Do I really need to ask him that?

  “From the starship you discovered the artifacts in, sir.”

  “Got it. What about it?”

  “As I said, it’s growing.”

  “And that means?”

  “I’m detecting what I think might be an eventual power-surge of some kind. There seems to be an oscillating feedback loop.”

  “Like maybe a drive core meltdown?”

  “Perhaps. Though this ship appears to be so old, I am unable to determine what state its power system is in, let alone the composition of its—”

  “Let’s go with first possible scenarios, pal. That way, anything less is a disappointment we can live with.”

  “As opposed the surprises we can’t,” Rachel added.

  “Right.”

  “In that case,” Lars said, “I would propose that all your probing around down there inadvertently activated a self-destruct protocol, which—due to the vessel’s age—was delayed, but may have a payload—amplified by the mine’s compression—”

  “Spit it out, Lars!” I yelled.

  “You’re looking at a neutron explosion capable of collapsing the entire mine and possibly swallowing most of the mountain, including all the upper structures.”

  “Was that so hard?” I asked, running a hand down my face.

  “How much time do we have?” Rachel asked.

  “While I can’t be conclusive, Miss Fontaine, signs show that—”

  “Lars!” I yelled.

  “Thirty-five minutes, Miss Fontaine.”

  I repeated the number in a tone of grim acceptance.

  “There’s no way,” Rachel said. “All these people…”

  “Are going to survive,” I said. “We’re going to get them out. It’s what we do, remember?”

  “White knight.”

  I smirked. “And you’re my princess.”