The Circadia Chronicles: Omnibus: The Complete Colonization Sci-Fi Series by Heather Heckadon (portable ebook reader .txt) 📕

“Don’t play coy with me, you twits! I know, you didn’t think you’d get caught, but guess what? Here we are. Just fess up now, and we can get this over with. We don’t need to sit out here all night and play ‘who done it.’ Just tell me if you know something, or fess up. That’s it. I don’t have the patience for this shit.”

Everyone sat silent until I heard a man’s voice from the back of our group. “What happened to Jack?” he asked. His voice resonated in the still air. Met with silence, I felt a chill run down my spine. Why wasn’t Leslie answering? “Where is he?” the man asked again.

“Where is my husband?” Sierra growled.

“That’s it! I’ve had Enough!” Leslie screamed. “You!” he yelled, as he pointed to the man in the back of the group, “Get up here, now.”

“Why?” the man asked.

“It wasn’t a question. Now.”

The man slowly stood and weaved his way through the sitting people in the group in front of him. Standing at the edge of the group, Leslie egged him to come closer by nodding his head.

The man stepped forward until he was a foot from Leslie and stared back at him.

“Now, apologize,” Leslie said.

“For asking where my friend is?”

“You heard me, now.”

“What did you do?” the man asked. “What did you do that you won’t tell us? Must be pretty bad, huh? Just ‘cause he didn’t like how you ruined everything? How you took over and think you can rule us like we’re your peasants? No. No, I’m not going to apologize to you.” The man spit on Leslie’s shirt and stared him down.

Leslie wiped the grime from his shirt in disgust and flung it towards the ground. When his glare returned to the man, it was one of rage. “You will apologize or you will suffer the consequences,” Leslie said in a plain tone.

“Like Jack?” The intense stare down between the two beckoned for action. Standing only inches from each other now, Leslie took a large step back. The man’s eyebrows narrowed, confused as to why Leslie was already backing away or backing down. He had obviously expected more from him.

“Smith?” Leslie said.

I turned from the two of them just in time to catch Smith standing, pulling a black pistol from his pants, and pointing the gun at the man before firing. Bang. The light flashed from the barrel, and my ears rang. The man dropped to the dirt, dead. Leslie stood away from the man, his face turned from the carnage and covered in blood. He looked towards the group. “Someone else wanna be next?” he asked.

Silence hung in the air except for the muffled sobs. “That’s what I thought. I told you. I don’t have the patience or the stomach for this. Just tell me who took the soft phone, and this can all be over.” He made no effort to wipe the splatter of blood from his face, like he knew it added drama to his request. Typical Leslie. We all sat quiet. I honestly believed no one had any idea of the whereabouts of the communication device.

“Maybe you lost it,” Sierra said. Her jaw worked back and forth, and tears streamed down her face. Her voice was defiant against the quiet. “Maybe your dumbass lost it.”

“Excuse me?” His tone dared her to make another sound. He stepped forward as if he would punch her himself, but I knew better.

“You heard me, you just don’t like when someone calls you out on your shit, right?” She had nothing left to lose. Her husband was missing, everything she had created on Circadia had been in vain, and she was a slave. She was daring him to kill her, to make her another martyr.

“If you wanna be next, that’s your decision. Get up here,” he said, tilting his head as he stepped back, inviting her up. His smile was enough to tell me that this wasn’t going to end well for her. He was enjoying being the center of attention, the so-called bad-ass. But ‘bad-ass’ was the furthest thing from Leslie; he was a coward, ordering another to do his bidding for him. Power was everything though, and he had enough of it to lead an army and then some. How he ever came to have this kind of pull over people, I didn’t understand.

Sierra stood and bravely walked over to stand toe to toe with him. He took a long step back as he had done before and looked away. “Smith,” he said.

I squeezed my eyes shut. I didn’t want to see what was about to happen. Sierra was my friend, and Smith was going to kill her. Waiting, squeezing my eyes shut, crying into my hands, I felt all the stages of grief. Please don’t kill her, I thought. Take me instead. Why does she have to die? She won’t die. Someone will stop this. This isn’t happening. Please, don’t. The words in my head plagued me. Over and over they repeated, demanding to be heard. I sobbed, and my heartbeat pounded in my ears like an entire tribe of drums. When I couldn’t take any more, when I thought I was going to pass out, suddenly there was quiet, and I came to realize the silence didn’t only exist in my head.

I glanced up to see Sierra still standing there with Smith still pointing his gun at her. It was like time was frozen. Tears fell from Smith’s eyes like he was struggling with the idea of killing her.

“What are you waiting for?” Leslie asked. “You know what to do,” he demanded.

Smith shook his head with shocked and reddened eyes. “I’m not sure that I do...”

“What?” Leslie asked.

“I don’t know that I know what to do...” Smith said in a daze. “I’m not sure I know what to do...”

“Smith! Fucking shoot her, now!” he yelled.

Smith rose the gun back up, aiming directly for her head, shaking while gripping the gun. His finger slowly