Runners: Escape Prison World or Die (Empire of Time Series) by John Argo

Page 27.

"Out," Kion said sharply, aiming the gun. Piri did the same, beside him.

"You touch a com or a weapon, you'll be dead before your hand gets there."

The three men raised their hands. Piri ducked from one to the other, tearing off their collar com buttons. He frisked each man's overalls for weapons and other communications devices. He abstracted a nice pocket chronograph from one man.

"Out!" Kion said. He and Piri covered the three merks as they trundled down the gangway. "You will live in one piece if you don't try anything stupid."

"We're just happy to bail out alive," one man said.

"Thank you," said a second.

"Good luck," said the third. "We hate the Swarm as much as you do."

"Fat load of shit," Piri snarled, threatening the last speaker with a gunshot. "Then why are you working for them?"

"Don’t waste our time with any stupid stories," Kion told them. "Just keep moving. Get away from the boat." So saying, he pressed an amber button overhead in a door control panel, and the gangway retracted. The skimmer wall slid shut.

"Okay," Piri said, "I hope this is like driving the headquarters bread truck, because otherwise we'll still be sitting here this evening." Piri grandiosely sat in the pilot's seat. His expression suggested joy at how far he'd come since cooking macab pies in the armpit of Aerag-15 just yesterday.

Kion said: "With luck, those five geeks will be running around waving their arms for a few hours until their fellow muckbags find them. If we figure all this out, we can be a day's journey south of here."

"Should be easy," Piri said. "Those guys are hardly geniuses. The people who built these skimmers probably dumbed them down so humanians could work them without falling out of the sky or running into hilltops."

"Right," Kion muttered. He began studying the controls. Could he make this work before other skimmers arrived and demanded a security cross-check?

"You know how to fly this thing?" Kion asked Piri, who occupied the pilot seat.

In the sand below, all six merks had assembled. They looked dumbfounded and distressed at the loss of their skimmer.

Kion used voice command on a manual, look-up control, which let go a burst of artillery. Bluish-white kill packets raked the ground, raising puffs of fused sand slivers and dust. It was good to be on the other end for a change. The merks scrambled for dear life. It felt good to let them live. They would kill without a second thought if the tables were turned. It was good to feel superior to them. Losers.

"I can figure it out," said Piri as he sat in the pilot's chair on the central flight deck.

"Can't be too complicated," Kion said, "if fools were able to fly this thing." He slid into the co-pilot's seat and buckled in.

The craft lurched.

"Whoah!" Kion said, hanging on to the arm rests.

"I got it, I got it, I got it," Piri said. He clenched his tongue between his teeth. His face looked tense. "I can do this. Hang on. Hang on. Oh Fud, hang on."

The cabin light weakened to softer greenish and amber lights as the engines began to whirr underneath them, and then opened throttle-wide in a resounding blast. It was an old, cast-off military craft used by Sekurita and their underlings, as an alternative to the scrap heap, but it still had plenty of power.

The craft started to rattle violently.

"Do it, do it, do it," Kion yelled while gripping his seat.

Things fell off shelves. The interior vibrated and rattled loudly.

"I am doing it, mudddafuddah. Keep your pants on."

"You're scared shitless. Look at you. You got me scared. You're revving the engines while keeping the brakes on. Let go, and ease off on the throttle."

Piri made quick changes among the levers at his knees, and the round yawing wheel with its appendages at gut level. Abruptly, the ship stopped shuddering and rose lightly. Things stopped falling off of shelves.

Cliffs loomed ahead as the craft picked up speed. "Oh my gods, we're gonna die."

"Keep your own pants on," Kion said. "You bird-brain. This thing is programmed not to let an idiot drive it into a mountain."

"Hey boss," Piri retorted. "You wanna pilot this fuddin' thing yourself?"

"Stop talking, and quit pushing all the buttons at the same time."

The craft began to steady somewhat, after making one or two violent lurches.

"I think I found the autonav," Piri said. He sat back, and let the craft steady itself. "It's better if I don't fight it. Hang on, I'm learning."

"Help us!" Kion prayed to the spirit he was sure must be lurking in the ship's avionics.

Thank you for reading. If you love it, tell your friends. Please post a favorable review at Amazon, Good Reads, and other online resources. If you want to thank the author, you may also buy a copy for the low price of a cup of coffee. It's called Read-a-Latte: similar (or lower) price as a latte at your favorite coffeeshop, but the book lasts forever while the beverage is quickly gone. Thank you (JTC).

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