14 Surv1v0rs

17

          Jack gripped the side of the catwalk, his knuckles turning white.  Reeves had laid it out to him—laid it out to him simple.  He had made him see the necessity of what was to be done in order for them to survive, but this—this was barbaric!  No—more than barbaric.  It was monstrous!  Watching from his position on the catwalk, he couldn't budge from his spot.  He could only feel a raw instinct overwhelming him—a sense of wrongness and terror.
          But not for himself.
          "You monster!" roared Marcus, stumbling backward and tripping to the floor.
          Connor was transfixed to his spot, halfway up the stairs, his eyes wide with incredulity.  "Wh-Wh—" he gasped, his lips trying to form speech, "—Why!"
          Reeves pointed the gun at Marcus now.  "Locking ourselves up was just an idea," he said.  "But we could do it the other way.  Of course, we thought it'd be better if you all died in your cells ... one by one.  But, it doesn't always go the way we want it."
          "We?" said Marcus, gasping. "We?"
          "Us.  Jack.  Me ... it ... " drawled Reeves, " ... we."
          "Reeves," said Marcus, climbing to his feet and stumbling backwards in his frenzied panic.  "You know they—they'll know.  When they come ... Earth ... they'll know what you did.  I mean ... you can't get away with this!  You can't!  Think about it!"
          "I am thinking about it.  And I've thought a lot.  They won't know a goddamn thing, Marcus.  Cause I'm gonna light up this sweet little paradise we've been livin in," he said.  "Only thing that'll be left are your teeth for the records.  And teeth can't tell stories ... without a head."
          That was when it went pitch black.  Connor had lunged from the stairs and hit the power switch.
          Reeves looked around to see what happened, and Marcus charged him in a fit of rage and desperation.
          Three shots went off in the dark.  A cry escaped from Marcus, who stumbled and fell.
          But Connor came out of the dark like a winged devil, screaming, and bowled into Reeves, knocking him backwards to the floor.
          Five more consecutive shots went off.
          In the stroboscopic scene, lit up by the discharges, Jack saw Marcus stagger to his feet, shouting, "I'm hit—I'm hit!" before falling to his belly, and in a desperate attempt to subdue the attacker, grabbed Reeves's kicking leg as he struggled with Connor.
          Dazed, Jack watched as the scene precipitated into madness.  For a brief moment, the impulse reigned in him to rise and intervene.  His muscles tautened, his hands gripped the railing.
I must stop this, he thought.  I must stop ... I must stop Reeves!  
          The thought came to him suddenly.  And then he knew.
          I cannot be the monster.  If I were, it would not feel monstrous to kill another human.  If I were, I would choose Reeves.
          "Get the gun!" Connor shouted, as he continued to wrestle with Reeves.
          Reeves's hands were around his neck now.
          "Marcus—please!" Connor choked.
          Jack rose to his feet, his heart striking wildly in his ears.  He picked up the screwdriver into shaking hands.
          Then, quite suddenly, the door flew open and Karl rushed in and joined in in the fray.
          Another gunshot.
          A sound of a heavy blow; Reeves shouted in pain and forced Karl from him, then sprang to his feet.
          Karl hit the power.
          When the lights came on again, Connor was standing and holding the gun in trembling hands.
          Karl was by the power switch.
          Marcus sat on the floor holding his jaw, where the bullet had just passed through his cheek and came out below his ear.
          Blood was everywhere.
          Reeves was nowhere to be seen.
          Then Connor said, trying to control his breath, "Come out, you sombitch!  Come out ... nice and slow."  His face was flushed and bloodied, and one of his eyes was shut and beginning to swell.
          There was no response.
          "He said come out!" shouted Karl.
          Hunkering behind the generator, Reeves showed his face.    
          Connor raised the gun and began to circle toward him.  "You—you sombitch—I'll blow out your frickin brains.  Come out all the way!"
          "You have my gun," said Reeves from behind the generator, receding as Connor tried to get a bead on him, "but I have something better.  Annnnnnd it goes tick ... tick ... tick!"  He held the charge up so they all could see.  "So, you see?  I hit the detonator ... and I'll see you all in hell."
          Karl looked stunned.
          Connor froze where he was.
          "Now you drop the gun," said Reeves.
          "Don't do it," said Karl, looking at Connor.  "Don't.  Do.  It."
          "Don't think I'll do it?" said Reeves.
          "You won't," said Karl.  "You're not that frickin crazy, Reeves."
          Reeves spat blood onto the floor.  His eyes were ferocious and bloodshot.  "Dareel made the mistake of thinking he knew me.  You're making the same goddamn mistake of thinking I'm the same man you knew."
          "Oh yeah?" said Karl, nervously.
          "I was infected on the Andromeda," said Reeves.  "And so was Jack."
          Karl swore.
"Jack is one of us now.  Yes.  And he's escaped.  It'll live on in him ... even after I'm dead.  I won't die.  I am part of it, now."
          Karl didn't speak.
          "So, you still think I'm bluffing?  Let's seeeeeee ... what happens when I press this button?"
          "Reeves ... you're—" started Karl, but he couldn't finish his sentence.  He was edging away.
          "All right," said Reeves.  "Seems I'll need to convince you further."  And he depressed something on the charge and held it up so that they could see.
          Numbers.
          Counting down.
          "What's that sound?"  Reeves pressed the device to his head, as though to hear it better.  "Ah ... thirty ... twenty-nine ... twenty-eight ... " reported Reeves.
          "Turn it off!" shouted Karl, the gun shaking faster and faster.  "Turn the goddamn thing off!"
          " ... twenty-seven ... twenty-six ... " chanted Reeves, as the device continued to beep.
          Karl and Connor turned and fled from the generator house.
          Marcus started for the door, but changing his mind, turned and charged Reeves instead.  But Reeves was much stronger than him, and he grabbed him, and pulled him into a robust headlock.
          "Nice try, Marcus!"
          Jack rose.  If he was going to do something, now was the time.
          The bomb continued to beep.
          Jack turned and scrambled into the ventilation shaft; he could feel the adrenaline feeding into his veins, he could even feel his pupils dilating for the dark as he scrambled into it as fast he could.  Survival was the only thing for him now.
          " ... Twenty-one ... twenty ... " continued Reeves, and laughed.
          And suddenly, the beeping stopped.
          Then Reeves's nightmarish voice prickled the interior of his ears, filling him with dread.  "Think that got their attention, Jack?  Think it did."
He's gone mad, thought Jack.  Just like Bob Marley before he blew up the ship.  And I have to get the hell out of here!
          The truck was his only way out.