Hunters Ch. 01

**Writing Science Fiction was my first love at the age of 9. If it's you're cup of tea, please read; if it's something you kind of enjoy, read on. If you hate it, let me know. Either way, don't forget to vote, and if you have time, leave a comment, I actually really do read them!**

The soft pulsating red glow of the low fuel light had passed from almost pleasant to down right annoying. The engine of theMako started sputtering between Mars and the asteroid belt. For the last hour she'd been coasting along into the Consortium's territory, hauling Max and his bounty along with her. According to the computer in the mono-pod, he was still a good hour away from his destination; unless he had trouble along the way. Every blip on the radar was a mixture of hope and hopelessness; there was a chance that some of Lorien's men would come pick him up, and there was a chance that the Consortium would find him. Either way, he wasn't about to radio out to them and draw attention to himself.

It was the last blip that had appeared on the screen that was making him uncomfortable though. It had been right at the edge of the radar's range for the last 15 minutes, and it wasn't moving from directly behind theMako. He was being followed, and whoever it was wanted him to know it; and that was making him the most nervous out of the entire situation.

Max's hand flipped some toggle switches up and the pod's heads up came up, its amber flaring brightly in the absence of the pulsing fuel light. The ship's status display oscillated between weapons that the ship had on it and their ammunition. It flashed 2000 rounds for the machine gun and two magnetic missiles still left in the munitions banks. Not enough to fight on, especially with only fuel for the maneuvering thrusters, and barely enough for that. He flipped the switches and the display powered down. Another switch up and the cool blue "VOX" light turned on in the display panel.

"Hey. Whoever you are. Stop following me," Max said coolly, his harsh voice betraying his young age. He waited for a response, his fingers tapping the right control lever agitatedly. He was almost thankful he didn't have to wait long; almost, until he heard her voice.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. Out of gas cowboy?" the husky, almost sultry voice poured out of the speakers.

"I should have known it would be you," Max said slapping his forehead lightly. "It could have only been you."

Her soft laughter bubbled through the speakers, but there was no warmth in it. It only clenched Max's teeth and made his left eye twitch uncontrollably.

"Oh Max, you were expecting me?" she giggled. A small alarm started going off in Max's pod and small red flashers started going off. The words "Radar Lock" began flashing over the top of the radar screen. Max sighed deeply.

"Gillian, are you going to come get me or are you going to stay back there and shoot me?" Max said in a bored voice. He didn't like this feeling of powerlessness. More laughter sounded over his speakers and a small amber light started rapidly flashing next to his radar. "Missile" started flashing over the top of the radar instead of "Radar Lock." Max shifted quickly in his seat and fastened his safety harness.

"Just going to blow up 10 million woolong with a push of a button?" Max said, bracing himself for the incoming explosion.

"Maxy, you're not worth 10 million. You're not trying to buy your way out of this, are you?" Gillian's voice rang again, still sultry and taunting.

"Nope, just letting you know I have the Candyman in the hold," Max said

"Oh," Gillian's voice said, a touch of surprise in it. "I didn't know that. He's as good as cash, and he just bought your life. You'll have to thank him right before I shoot you myself then." Max was relieved that she wasn't just going to blow him up, but this presented a new challenge for him.

"Missile" stopped flashing over the top of the radar screen, but Max didn't see the flash of an explosion. He turned to look, and he saw the missile streak past his pod and go not more than 60 feet past theMako and explode in a flash of white light. The instrument panel of theMako flared and the explosion rocked theMako hard and to the right, throwing Max against his safety harness. TheMako began a slow spiral away from her original course and the blip on the radar closed slowly toward her.

"Just making sure you weren't playing. You really are out of fuel, aren't you. You'd be gone by now if you weren't," Gillian taunted again. "Don't go anywhere, Maxy, I'll be there to collect my money and that crate of yours soon enough."

Max unbuckled his harness and started feeling under his seat. He came back with a crumpled pack of cigarettes. He squeezed it open and saw but one paper-wrapped treat inside. A frown contorted Max's face. "Damnit," Max said softly and put the ruined pack back under his seat.

"What's wrong now Max? Something new troubling . . ." Gillian's voice came over the speakers.

"Nothing," Max said, cutting her off and flipped the VOX switch back off. "Bitch," he added quietly. He leaned back in his seat and waited for theMegalodon to pick him up. He didn't wait long.

Gillian's ship maneuvered under theMako's spiraling trajectory and maintained distance. Max ruefully punched a short code into the keypad and his landing gear came down. TheMegalodon trusted up and caught Max and his ship on the foredeck and he felt the entire craft shift downward slightly as the deck's magnetic locks engaged. The main hanger door opened slowly, the door's shells collapsing down into the main foredeck and two men came out of the hanger with heavy cables in their hands. They were attached to the rear landing gear on the Mako and with a hard jerk; Max began to be pulled inside. Inside the hanger he saw three more of Gillian's men with their black jump suits and helmets on.

The hanger door expanded upward again and the room sealed. A small light in the upper left corner of theMako's pod came on and Max knew there was atmosphere in the hanger. Lights inside the hanger itself powered on and the soldiers around him took their helmets off. Max opened the side of theMako's pod and climbed out onto the step, keeping his hands in plain view of everyone in the room. The main air lock spiraled open and a tall, redhead stepped out onto the hanger floor, one hand on her hip and the other supporting her as she leaned against the door.

"Oh Max, I wish you could see what you look like right now," she said her voice still husky.

"And how's that?" Max asked defiantly.

"Pathetic," she said and pulled a gun from her back, pointing at Max. She giggled and her five men around the Mako gave a short but hearty chuckle. Max rolled his eyes. He shifted his gaze to Gillian. She straightened her aim on him a little. "Come on down, Maxy, we can't detain you while you're up there, at least not without hurting you." Grudgingly Max jumped down and three of Gillian's men were around him instantly. Two of them produced guns of their own while a third began patting Max down. The gunmen were positioned so that if they shot and missed, the bullets would sink into theMako; a fact that was not lost on Max.

"Such well trained little lap dogs," Max mumbled just loud enough for his temptress to hear. The guard patting Max down stopped for a second and punched him in the face. Max took the blow, his head jerking violently to the side, but his body remained firmly standing. He straightened his head upon his shoulders to look into the eyes of the guard. "Do it again," he said, his eye twitching. The guard backed up a step.

"He's clean," he announced to Gillian. He backed up to a safe distance from Max, but took care not to turn his back the man before him.

"Good," Gillian said. "Lock him up," she said and turned to leave, tucking the gun back into the belt of her leather flight suit. She took a step through the door and turned her head as it was closing. "Oh, and get the Candyman out of that pile of shit," she said and the door irised completely shut behind her.

The two men not guarding Max went to the rear of the Mako and opened up the cargo hatch. The hatch itself wasn't even the size of a garbage can lid and the compartment inside wasn't much bigger than the can. Inside they saw a man, barely conscious, an oxygen mask tied to his face and a thermal blanket wrapped tightly around him. He was drug out of the hatch and dropped on the hanger floor and the hatch door was closed. The pressure seals sucked shut with a hiss and the two men carried the Candyman off through the door into the air lock into the ship.

"So what are you going to do with me then?" Max asked the man in front of him. He smiled in response.

"Me? Nothing," he said. Max heard the clank of a boot on the metal mesh decking and knew what was coming. He felt the butt of a gun smash down onto the back of his head and then was embraced by the darkness.

Max awoke to the coppery tang of dried blood in his mouth and a headache that would drop a charging rhino. He was vaguely aware that his arms were hand cuffed to something over his head and that his feet were both asleep and not quite firmly under him. He opened his eyes and a rush of pain took him, but he forced his eyes to stay open. There was a dim overhead light in the small room he was in, and he immediately recognized it. This was one of Gillian's cells: a converted utility closet with a heavy copper airline running through it. The room had barely any space at all in it, but at least it was more than he had afforded the Candyman in theMako's hold.

"Well, time to leave," Max said under his breath to himself. He stood the best he could with his sleeping feet and he began to wrench on the pipe he was cuffed to, twisting it in its fittings. Max hoped they hadn't fixed it since the last time Gillian had caught him. He suppressed a grunt and was rewarded with a quiet squeak as the pipe gave under his powerful hands. After a few turns, one end of the pipe was free. He slid his handcuffs off the end of the pipe and set to looking about the small room for something to pick the lock with. As he looked, he screwed the pipe end back into its fitting on the other side of the wall. A small pile of dust was in one corner and he managed to find a small screw and an Allen wrench entombed in dirt and dust bunnies.

"Thank Franklin Delano Roosevelt for the minimum wage," he said to himself. He picked the lock on his right cuff but kept the left side locked on his wrist. The Allen wrench and screw went into his pocket and he draped his arms back over the pipe, his left hand toward the door and his right hand behind the pipe, holding the empty cuff. "Now for a little attention getter," he mumbled to himself again and started kicking at the door. It was only after three or for decent belts that the small sliding panel that had been installed was thrown open. Max only got a quick look through the slot, but he didn't see anyone else in the hallway beyond the guard.

'Might as well take the chance,' Max thought.

"Hey! Quiet down in there. I can't kill you, but you don't need both a'yer knees, savvy?" the guard shouted gruffly in a thick Earth accent. The panel slid shut and that was exactly what Max was waiting for. He kicked the door as hard as he could along where the lock was still hopefully attached. The door caved in easily under his heavy foot and he felt it slam into the guard, his foot still carrying the door. The follow through on the kick hit the guard and Max heard him slam head first into the bulkhead on the other side of the hall. Alarms and sirens started going off. Those were new, he hadn't counted on those.

The guard started to stagger to his feet and he pawed at his hip for his gun. Max turned him around, grabbed his pistol, and threw him against the broken doorframe in one fluid motion. The guard slumped to the ground and began to breathe in raspy gurgling draws. Max looked up and down the hall with the bulkheads to his back; he knew that was the hull of the ship. There were two more doors in the hall, one to the left of his and one to the right. The hall was open to both ends and went around corners and out of sight. Max unlocked the door to the right of his, opened the slide so he could see out and jumped in. He barely got the door shut before he heard boots tromping down the decking of the ship.

"What's going on...oh Jesus Matt!" the guard yelled and moved past the view slit in Max's new door. He bent down in the hall and was out of sight. "Holy mother, he really worked you over, didn't he, buddy," he said, checking over the wounded man. Max opened the door a little and stuck the pistol out.

"I should radio in and tell Gillian that . . ." he started. He stopped when he felt the muzzle of a gun press into his jumpsuit over his kidney.

"That nothing happened and there's a glitch in the alarm system," Max finished for him quietly. The guard's hands went slowly out to his sides and Max leaned in and took his gun. "That's a good boy, you've played this game before, haven't you," Max taunted. "Why don't you stand up slowly and don't worry about your friend right now. He's just taking a little nap." The guard got to his feet slowly and carefully. He slowly turned to face Max, his face drained of color and his eyes full of panic.

"Alarms bother me. Shut it off," Max said quietly.

"I have to radio in," the guard stammered out.

"Do it."

"This is Alexanderson, false alarm, the door's malfunctioning," the guard said after touching the collar on his jump suit and speaking into it.

"Alexanderson? What the hell, you're not supposed to be . . ." a crackly voice echoed up from the neckline of Alexanderson's jump suit. The transmission was interrupted by Max's pistol firing. Max's arm moved down to point the gun at the man's hip and he squeezed off a round. Alexanderson's hip shattered, spraying little bits of bone, flesh and blood along the wall. The guard's screams filled and echoed through the hallway, and probably throughout the entire ship as he spun and slumped down. Max pistol-whipped him on the way by, his feet moving almost before the guard fell. His scream ended and he lay on the floor by Matt, unconscious and bleeding.

Max charged forward. He really wasn't sure whether he was on the port or starboard side of the ship, but he would find out soon enough. He really hoped he was heading for the bow and the hanger instead of the bridge and the engine room. He threw open the door and saw that he was wrong.

Inside, he glimpsed a man standing in front of the door, cocked back in a baseball swing with something in his hands. There were two other guards beyond him, both with guns drawn and pointed in his direction. He was on the bridge, but he didn't see any signs of Gillian anywhere. His luck, he'd be attacked from behind.

Max dropped. He ducked backwards and let himself fall, just barely fast enough to have the big man with the pipe miss his head. Max's shoulders hit the decking and he fired a shot into the big guard's boot, just under the armored kick plate. The steel toe under that wouldn't offer enough resistance to stop the bullet. The guard lost his balance from not connecting with Max and his momentum carried him around in a circle. With his freshly wounded foot, he spun almost completely around twice. Max kicked his legs back under him and kipped up off the floor. He grabbed the guard before he fell and kept him spinning until his back was to Max. Max pulled his other gun and held it to the wounded guard's chin as he was using him as a human shield, his other gun pointed at the other two guards in the room.

"Drop it," Max said to the guards. The wounded guard he was now mostly supporting dropped his pipe. It clattered to the floor and rolled halfway to the other guards. They dropped their guns and put their hands out to their sides. Max started to back out of the bridge when he heard the undeniable double click of a hammer of an automatic pistol being drawn back and felt the cold steel barrel press against the base of his skull.

"Why don't you follow suit, Maxy," Gillian's voice said calmly. He sighed heavily and dropped the big guard to the floor. He hit with a thud and began cradling his destroyed foot and moaning softly. He turned slowly, both guns still in his hands, and faced Gillian. She kept the barrel pressed against his skin, and he turned until it was resting against his nose and digging into his cheek. He looked into her sparkling ice blue eyes and felt himself almost smile. Almost. His arms went limp, and the guns feel from his relaxing hands; one hitting the guard on the floor, and the other clattering against the metal decking of the bridge. He stood there, unmoving, unblinking, and nearly not breathing for what felt like an eternity, staring into those deep blue liquid pools. A smile lit up Gillian's face and her eyes seemed to go from sparkling to glowing and she stepped closer to Max. She pressed her chest to his and stood on her tiptoes and her lips went to his ear.

"Still not killing people?" she whispered sensuously, her hot breath making Max fight back a wash of goose bumps. Max felt her move the gun from her right hand to her left. He could feel the guard on the floor twitch and start to squirm more. Gillian's tongue flicked out against Max's ear and he was unable to suppress the shiver or the goosebumps this time. She gave his earlobe a soft bite as she pulled the trigger of her pistol. Max felt the guard on the floor twitch and then lay still. "Was it as good for you as it was for me, Max?" she breathed huskily into his ear. She giggled and backed up a step. She was flush with excitement, her eyes glazed part way over, and her heart was beating so hard Max could see her jumpsuit move with its quickened rhythm. Max just stood there, starting at her, his eyes meeting and not leaving hers.

Gillian's remaining two men were standing, their mouths open and their eyes wide. They slowly looked at each other and then back to the body on the floor. After another quick glance at each other, they retrieved their weapons and resumed their positions on the bridge.

"See how easy they are to train? Besides, drones like these are so much easier and cheaper to find new than to give medical attention to. You didn't make the others have to die, did you?" Gillian asked, her eyes still glazed. She stuck the tip of her tongue out between her lips and licked them seductively.

"One will be fine in a few days. I shot the other one. I imagine you'll let him bleed to death," Max said coolly. He was beginning to flush, too, but with anger instead of excitement. Gillian giggled a little.

"Well, whatever works best for me. The Consortium will pay better than the police for you, however, and that's where we're going now. I'd worry about that rather than the guard bleeding out and dying because you shot him. Now, be a dear and put this back on," she said and tapped the empty cuff dangling from his left wrist with her pistol. Max instead twisted forward, the empty cuff flying to the end of the slide on the gun and down into the space between the hammer and the slide. He jerked forward and she pulled the trigger, clamping the cuff in place, not firing the bullet in the chamber as it should have. Another quick flip of the wrist and the gun slid to the end of the handcuff catch and off into his ready right hand. He pulled the hammer back again and spun her around into him with the gun to her liver before she even realized fully what had happened.

"Tell your men to drop their guns," Max whispered into Gillian's ear. He felt her try to twitch and Max dug the gun in, the front sight grinding against the base of her rib cage. "I can't stop until you let me," he whispered again. Gillian let out a little whimper.