Orion Colony Complete Series Boxed Set by J.N. Chaney (best detective novels of all time .TXT) 📕

“What?” Ricky asked. “How?”

Arun pointed a long finger to where the end of this particular Orion section rested against the mountainside.

“Because the communication section of the ship should be right there and it’s not,” Arun explained. “We’ll check quickly to see if there is anything salvageable, then we should move on. Hurry.”

We jogged the rest of the way to where this end of the broken Orion touched the ground. We passed right under the hanging bodies. I knew I was too far to see their eyes. Still, I swore they followed us.

My imagination ran wild with thoughts of hearing whispers on the edge of the wind. Maybe the dead did talk up here, but I wasn’t going to wait around to find out.

At a jog, we reached the end of the Orion in a few minutes. Arun was the only one who knew what she was looking for, while the rest of us stood watch. She handed me her blaster as she went to work digging through the remains of what had once been a mighty ship.

Part of me felt a bit dirty, like we were some kind of salvagers taking from the dead. The Orion was once proud and new; now there was nothing more than wreckage left to grow old, rust, and eventually be lost to time.

“It’s not much, but it’s all that’s left,” Arun said. “At least all I can see.”

I looked over to a small pile of equipment Arun gathered by her feet. As a mechanic used to working on cargo bay doors, vehicles, and such, I didn’t have the first idea of what was needed to make long-range communication operate.

Stacy hopped off the crawler and brought a large, empty container with her from the back of the bed. Quickly, she, Arun, and a frightful Tong placed the items inside and carried it back to the crawler.

Ricky and I followed close behind. We shared a moment where our eyes locked, then Ricky made a cringing expression. I nodded.

THUNK!

Something hard hit the side of the crawler.

THUNK! THUNK!

“Run,” Tong yelled, throwing the crate into the back of the crawler. “Run! They’ve found us!”

Mutt was going ballistic, barking at the space behind us. I ran, turning to fire blindly at whatever was attacking us.

Ricky and I both let loose with a series of red blaster fire from the ends of our weapons. I was too busy running forward to aim, much less search the area for exactly who was shooting.

Stacy jumped behind the wheel of the crawler and shifted it into reverse. Arun and Tong didn’t bother going into the front of the cab; they jumped into the back.

“Mutt, get in,” I yelled, reaching the crawler and finally turning to see who was shooting at us.

They looked smaller, like Tong, with green scaly skin and metal body parts coming from under their long cloaks.

More enemy rounds hit the steel fender and hood of the crawler. I couldn’t tell what they were using for weapons. They weren’t blasters, that was for sure.

Mutt bounded into the back of the crawler and I hopped on next.

Arun crouched behind the cab of the crawler in the bed of the vehicle. She returned fire, covering Ricky and me.

Ricky made it to the other side of the crawler. I offered a hand down as he threw his hands on the side of the bed.

“Go! Go!” Ricky shouted as I hauled him on board.

Stacy hit the accelerator, slamming us all forward as the crawler took off like a rocket in reverse.

One second, Ricky was grabbing onto me, climbing aboard. The next, he was slumped in my arms. Pain filled his eyes, and I hauled him the rest of the way aboard by the back of his jacket.

We fell in the back of the crawler together, my hand sticky with Ricky’s blood.

Enemy fire was still coming our way. Arun did her best to return rounds, but there were too many of them. Stacy could have won a medal for the way she tore backward in the crawler.

But her driving skills would have to wait to be rewarded for the time being. I rolled Ricky over on his side. His body shook so hard, it was clear he was hurt badly.

Tong crawled beside me to help. Together, we found the wound on Ricky’s left side. The projectile left a smoking hole where it hit him right under the armpit.

Tong wasted no time securing one of the blankets we’d sewed the night before. He jammed it into the wound to stop the bleeding.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Ricky winced. “I’m better than that. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, hey,” I said, rolling him onto his back so he could look up at me. “None of that. You’re going to be fine. You’re okay.”

I wasn’t a doctor. I didn’t know if any of that was true, but it was what he needed to hear. Ricky was in shock and going on and on about how sorry he was for getting shot.

Stacy tore down the path we’d come, leaving the sounds of the enemy weapons behind.

Arun fell to her knees beside Ricky. She went over to his left side, where Tong was applying pressure.

“What’s going on back there?” Stacy asked from the cab. “Is everyone all right?”

“Ricky’s been hit. Get us out of here,” I answered.

“Hold on,” Stacy said. She slammed the wheel to the right, turning us in a sharp one-hundred-eighty-degrees, then forced the crawler from reverse to drive and we were off again.

“You are going to be just fine,” Arun said, looking down at Ricky. “Ricky, you are going to make it.”

“Arun, Arun, I just want you to know that I think you’re a beautiful—a beautiful woman.” Ricky coughed up blood as he said the words. “I want you to know that I admire you not only for that, but for your spirit—”

Ricky was going to say more, but a coughing fit took him. More dark red blood fell from his mouth. His body convulsed at the action.

“Stop talking,” Arun told him. She