Adrift, p.1
Adrift, page 1
Adrift
Season Two, Episode Three of The Sunset Chronicles
Paul Stephenson
Hollow Stone Press
Copyright © 2021 by Paul Stephenson
All rights reserved.
No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.
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Contents
Note for readers
Dedication
1. Chapter One
2. Chapter Two
3. Chapter Three
4. Chapter Four
5. Chapter Five
6. Chapter Six
7. Interlude
8. Chapter Seven
9. Chapter Eight
10. Chapter Nine
11. Chapter Ten
12. Chapter Eleven
13. Chapter Twelve
14. Chapter Thirteen
Keep Reading
Leave a Review
Author's Note
Got Blood?
About the author
Note for readers
The Sunset Chronicles is a monthly sci fi serial. Think of it like a series, much like you’d get on your favourite tv streaming service. There are seasons, split up into episodes (five per season). Each episode is designed to be read in roughly two hours, though fast readers may blast through them even quicker, and those who like to really get stuck into the story may take longer. They’re intended to be thrilling and exciting, and are released regularly each month so that you can keep up with the story even if you have a hectic schedule. And who doesn’t, these days? It’s perfect for if you want to slip some space horror into your lunch break, or if you want to binge it of an evening.
If you’ve come to this book first, please check out episode one, Last Light, which is available for free at all good digital bookstores, or at my website.
Also, although The Sunset Chronicles is a story that stretches from the ice moon of Europa to every corner of the globe, its author remains English. As such, international readers should note that spellings are of the UK variation of English, so if you see a typo, it must be because of that.
If you’re in the UK and you see a typo, it must be your imagination.
To anyone who's taken the time to tell a friend or leave a review.
Chapter One
The noise that woke Yan wasn’t the alarm whose glowing numerals she could barely see through eyes refusing to open properly.
‘What?’ she asked the person looming over her bed, shaking her awake.
Wait, why was someone looming over her bed, trying to wake her up?
Blinking, her father came into view.
‘Ba?’ she asked, groggily.
‘Shhh,’ he hissed.
Holding up his reading light, he held his finger to his lips. He still wore the pyjamas she’d brought him from his birthday nearly a decade earlier, when pyjamas were something funny you brought a man as he started getting older; before they ended up as a semi-permanent uniform. He pulled at her arm. ‘Soldiers,’ he whispered.
Everything came into focus.
Soldiers.
‘Where are they?’ she asked.
‘I woke up because I heard them outside, in the hallway. Well, I heard people moving about. I was halfway to go piss when I caught the monitor. They disabled the intruder alarm, but I could still see them.’
‘They’re outside?’
‘Can’t get through the door.’
‘Not yet.’
Reaching under her bed, Yan grasped the long blade resting in its sheaf. There were guns elsewhere in the apartment, but who knew if they’d break in before she could get to them. Besides, if bullets started to fly, she couldn’t guarantee they wouldn’t fly in the wrong direction.
‘Stay in here,’ she said, grasping the hilt of the sword and moving to her bedroom door, peering through to the rest of the apartment. She could hear them bustling about outside, readying themselves to attack.
‘It’s my home too, why can’t I help defend it?’ he hissed.
‘Because you’re an old man in his pyjamas. Stay here and stay quiet.’
She had nothing on her feet. Frowning, she looked around to see where she’d kicked her shoes off last night, but they weren’t in her room.
A booming crash reverberated through the apartment as the front door blew apart, showering the inside with splinters and smoke. Soldiers in black tactical gear poured inside, their laser pointers sweeping the smoke-filled apartment.
Pulling the door to her bedroom closed, Yan ducked down and rolled forward across the floor, coming to a halt behind a wide chair. In the reflection of the lounge’s high mirror, she watched the soldiers fanning out. Four. Five. Six. Seven….
One crossed the room toward her. Yan waited for him to draw level and sprang to her feet, pivoting as she went and driving the sword through the side of the soldier’s ribcage.
‘Contact!’ someone yelled in English. Yan used her momentum to grab the startled and stabbed man, holding him in front of her as the soldiers opened fire. The reverberations of the bullets hitting her shield almost knocked her down, but she planted a foot behind her, steadying her weight.
Reclaiming her sword from the soldier’s innards, Yan leapt to the side as the man fell to the floor as a dead weight. The second volley of fire smashed into the wall behind her, destroying the posters her father had spent years collecting. Their glass fronts shattered, showering the surrounding floor in shards of glass.
Ducking back around, she spun and leapt across the floor, over the glass, landing in the doorway of her father’s bedroom. Guessing these bastards had no idea of the layout of the apartment she ran through. At the far end was a door leading into the bathroom, one of two entrances the tiny, grotty room had. The en-suite they’d been promised turned out to be two ways into the same tiled room. They’d been pissed off then; she was delighted now.
She locked the door behind her before moving to the other, which was closed. It led back into the apartment’s main room. She listened to the soldiers moving to follow her into her father’s room.
Opening the door, she ran back into the main room, coming up behind the soldiers. She slit the throat of one before the others even spotted she was there, and buried her blade into the exposed flank of another. Both dropped to the ground, the first grasping at the blood spewing from his throat as though he could somehow keep it in. The second died instantly; she had caught his heart.
Four left. They span back around, weapons raised.
‘Hold your fire,’ one of them shouted, a man, his fist raised in a hold pattern.
‘I’m not shooting,’ Yan replied. ‘And you’re in my house.'
‘We’re not here to kill you,’ the man said. He took his helmet off with his free hand, revealing a blonde-haired white guy. American. He looked terrified.
‘Are you going to tell me why you blew my front door in?’ Yan asked, still closing the gap between them slowly, wanting to get within striking distance of her blade if she needed to.
‘Actually, we are here to kill you,' the man contradicted himself slyly. 'Sorry, I wanted to give the rest of my team the chance to come up the stairs.’
The sound of hurried boots outside echoed through the room.
The man raised his rifle, but not quick enough. Yan turned on the balls of her feet, swinging the blade round and hacking at the man’s arm, right at the soft flesh inside of his elbow. He gave a howl of pain and dropped his gun. The wail was cut off as she brought the blade up and across his throat.
Three left. For now.
The remaining soldiers stood, dumbfounded. But she had more incoming to worry about. At least if she stood by these three, the new arrivals wouldn’t open fire. She hoped.
The new soldiers fanned across in a line from her, rifles raised. Yan crouched and leapt across at the three, knocking one down against the cabinet. She grabbed one, holding the blade across their throat.
‘Put your guns down,’ she called out. ‘Or I cut his throat.’
Gunfire erupted. Yan braced, waiting for it to claim her. But the fire didn’t come from the soldiers. It came from behind them.
Their bodies fell to the floor, revealing five people stood behind, their guns smoking.
Agent Huang stepped forward, surveying the carnage that used to be Yan’s apartment. She gave a sigh. ‘Good job you’re moving out soon.’
‘Yan?’
Huang and Lin whirled round, weapons raised — to find the dishevelled figure of Yan’s father appearing at her bedroom door. His hands came up slowly as he took in the mess that was his home.
‘It’s okay, Ba,’ Yan said.
Huang and Lin lowered their weapons.
‘Why are there police in my house?’ her father asked. ‘And moving out where?’
While Huang and Lin ordered their agents to clear up the bodies from the apartment and try to make the place look a little less destroyed, Yan sat her father down, giving him a potted history of the previous six hours. She’d been dreading telling him about her newfound alliance with the police… the enemy. At least now he could see the stakes.
She finished her account, leaving nothing out. He said not a word, sat at the kitchen table, staring at the marked plastic so intently anyone might think he wasn’t listening. Yan knew better, though. Nothing got past her Ba.
He looked up, eyes filled with sadness, his face givi
‘I have no choice, Ba,’ Yan started. ‘I’m trying to earn us both our free…’
He held up his hand, his eyes fixed once again on the tabletop. She stopped and waited for him.
‘This has nothing to do with wanting to help me. I’d rather die than bring this on your head. Nor is it anything to do with you wanting to escape. You might want to think so, but did you even think to challenge for a second the threat they have over you?’
‘I don’t…’
‘Who are they?’ he asked.
‘Interpol.’
‘Exactly. You have many international warrants out for your arrest?’
‘I…’
He ignored her. ‘They have no jurisdiction here. Flashy tricks, and they know more than they should, but they hold nothing over you. Or me. How can they free us of the chains keeping me in this apartment? Again, no jurisdiction. So, what is this truly about, Yan? Glory? You think there’ll be any for the local thief they got to help them? What do you think happens at the end of this story? You go free? I do? I raised many things, Yan, but not a fool. Or, I thought not.’
Yan got up from the table and paced around the tiny space, aware of the attention of Huang and Lin. Her father watched calmly, waiting for her to respond.
‘Look,’ she started, but that avenue closed off immediately. She knew her father well enough to know she couldn’t talk him round, and even as every line of argument entered her head, she could hear his rebuttal. Damned stubborn old man. Why did he have to be right?
‘Okay,’ she said, finally. ‘So, what do you suggest we do? Even if we shake these guys, Sun’s people will not stop.’
‘I agree.’
‘So?’
‘So what?’
‘What do we do?’
‘We? I’m going to make some breakfast and wait for these people to stop fussing around our apartment. I’m going to work out where we run.’
‘Run?’
‘These people know who we are, who I am. They might not have the jurisdiction to arrest me themselves, but I’m sure they’ll be able to find someone in the local police who still cares about arresting an old dinosaur like myself. I’d say we’ve got a day to pack up what we need and move on. Leave China, try our luck somewhere else. It’s not like you don’t have marketable skills. We’ll shake any tail from Sun’s people, too.’
‘You want to run?’
‘Yes.’
She shook her head. ‘Has it ever occurred to you, father, that I might not want to live my entire life hiding with you? That I might want to enjoy some semblance of a life of my own?’
He snorted. ‘You’ve shown no sign before.’
That stung. ‘I didn’t want to burden you. I knew how much it would pain you to think you’re holding me back, but I’ve stayed in the shadows my whole life because of you. They’re offering a future where we might not have to, and you won’t even consider it.’
‘Consider it,’ he scoffed, but his gaze moved to the floor. She was getting somewhere.
‘Excuse me,’ Lin said, stepping gingerly into the kitchen. ‘If I may?’
Yan and her father made no response, but didn’t move to stop him, either. Lin lay two pads on the table, each showing a scrawl of documentation. ‘This,’ he said, ‘is a warrant of international immunity. It essentially deputizes both of you as Interpol officers. If you see here, also,’ he said, scrolling through, ‘it states here the crimes for which you, sir, are wanted for arrest, were committed at the behest of Interpol, for undercover work. You are not accountable for these crimes, and they are classified at the highest level. If any police force here in China, or anywhere else in the world, were to arrest you, they would discover the crime has been red-ringed by Interpol. It would prevent them from making an arrest, or even attempt to question you about the matter. They would not know you are in our systems as an undercover agent, and that information would never leave the agency. It’s a cast-iron guarantee, sir.’
Her father stared at the pads, one of which said much the same for Yan, absolving her of all crimes they knew about.
He shook his head. ‘I have to be a police informant?’
‘No, sir,’ Lin said. ‘An agent, but a classified one. Nobody would ever know. Once this mission is over, you would both be free, with no obligation. Except to say, future crimes would not be so red-ringed.’
‘They’re not saying you have to do anything,’ Yan said. ‘This is my job.’
‘Although…’ Yan said with a smirk.
‘Your father is a legend. His input would be very helpful,’ Huang said, her natural sardonic tendencies unable to wrestle her enthusiasm for the idea from her voice.
‘Freedom, Ba,’ Yan said. ‘Don’t you want to go outside again? See the world?’
‘What do you say, Sir?’ Lin asked.
Her father stared at the pads for the longest time and gave a sigh. ‘When do we start?’
Chapter Two
If night saw the crew working furiously on their own projects, in the hours after the captain’s briefing a malaise took hold. Nobody seemed in a particular hurry to discuss the subject of the potential pillage of this underwater kingdom — scared perhaps of what wild ideas they might hear from their fellow crew. Wyn imagined each one working on their argument to the captain if anything went against their own particular grain.
After an hour of silent contemplation, and with Wyn’s eyelids feeling ever heavier, a squawk came up from the Haven’s comms, jolting Wyn awake.
‘We’ve got a working prototype,’ Stef said, voice full of hesitation. The crew abandoned their self-scrutiny and moved through the Haven to the cargo pod.
Wyn hadn’t actually been to the cargo pod before and was taken aback. Easily four times the size of the other pods, it was a cavernous expanse of plastic compared to the rest of Haven.
‘Fucking hell, Stef,’ Barnes said, following Wyn into the pod. ‘Why do you two always get the biggest room? My med bay is the tiniest pod here. Honestly, if I ever have to treat any of you, I’ll have to do it stood in the corridor.’
‘At least you’ve got a pod,’ Wyn replied.
‘We have more stuff to store,’ Stef said, clearly in no mood to joke with Barnes. She and Li stood next to several enormous pieces of equipment, thick cables running from each of them into nothing, their ends loose on the pod floor. Upon closer inspection, they weren’t cables — they were hollow pipes.
‘I’m still going to bring my kit down here and set up in some spare space,’ Barnes said, eyes darting about as though taking measurements.
‘Any word from the captain yet?’ Wyn asked.
‘Nothing yet,’ Li said, shaking his head.
‘I think we know which way he’s going to go,’ Ermine said, lifting one of the bigger boxes with ease. ‘He wants this done the same as the rest of us.’
‘It’s not that simple, surely?’ Wyn asked. ‘We can’t rape an entire world just so we can get home quicker.’
‘It’s not about getting home quicker, sweetheart,’ Ermine continued, while Wyn continued to resist the urge to go kick him in the shins. ‘Our world is dying, and we need the cure. If the fate of billions of people means a few white fish have to die, so be it.’
‘Okay, but what about this?’ Barnes interjected. ‘Say we take what we need, yeah? We go home, cure the Mar. Big heroes. Everyone’s happy. Great. But The Mar comes back, and we need to come back and get some more of this red shit. Except, oops, we can’t because we killed the whole moon.’
‘Pretty selfish way of looking at it,’ Stef said.
‘Just trying to talk in a language Ermine would understand,’ Barnes replied. ‘Self-interest.’
‘Fuck you, Barnes.’
‘Yes, sir.’
Wyn shook her head. With nothing to do but get frustrated by her immediate superior, she ducked back out of the cargo pod. She thought of heading straight to the captain’s pod, but thought better of it — he’d likely welcome her interference at this point about as much as she’d welcome Ermine’s romantic company.
She headed for Zoe’s pod.
