Bovine Bloodbath Read online

  "Man, what we gonna do then. I want to write this down cause when you found us, that was a good job, wasn't it man?"

  Dawes nodded.

  "It was pretty good."

  "Pretty good? It was damn good," Carver told the guard. "Maybe you could take us inside and we could get one."

  He turned to Dawes.

  "How does that sound to you? You think this guard could help us get on the base and get a pen so you can write that report?"

  It dawned on Dawes then and he nodded vigorously.

  "That sounds like it might work."

  "What you say Reg? You wanna take us to get a pen so we can let the General know what a good job you're doing out here?"

  "In there."

  "And in there."

  Carver grabbed Reg around the shoulder.

  "Which way we going to go?"

  Reg led them to a golf cart on a path that stretched through the dunes. It was hidden from the road, a five foot section of black asphalt that ran toward the fence and around the perimeter.

  "Hop in," he said and waited for Carver to climb in the passenger seat and Dawes to perch on the rear facing bench.

  He punched the pedal to the electric cart and it took off quietly, only the sound of the rubber wheels on the blacktop.

  He drove the cart to the fence line, a look of concentration etched on his young face. He turned away from the guard shack and kept rolling to a second break in the fence. The path become a road that connected with the runway.

  Carver could spy the Star X rocket in the distance.

  "That that Star X thing?"

  Reg nodded.

  "They had to scrub the first launch and wait for weather, so it's getting ready to go anytime."

  "I heard that," said Carver. "That thing can go up at anytime?"

  "Technically," said the guard. "But there's a system rolling in from Tampa so they scrubbed for today and are waiting for tomorrow."

  Carver glanced over his shoulder at Dawes.

  "Told you."

  "Told him what?" asked Reg.

  "That it should go in the report. Ya'll doing a good job around here. The General is going to like it."

  Reg sat up straighter in the seat and held out his chin.

  "Where you taking us for that pen Reg?"

  "Guard office."

  "Hold up a minute. Can you get us in closer to look at that Rocket?"

  Reg shot him a look from the corner of his eye.

  "I don't know-"

  "Look Reg, the General wants a full report, don't he?"

  "He does," Dawes agreed from the back.

  "And I want to give the General what he wants. Do you want to give the General what he wants Reg? You ever pissed off a General before?"

  "I haven't no."

  "Well I have, haven't I?"

  "He has. Pissed him off big time."

  "And it ain't pretty Reg. The General's kinda got a temper, you know what I'm saying."

  "So does my Captain."

  "Yeah, but a General is higher than a Captain, ain't it?"

  Carver waited for Dawes to chime in, and when he didn't, slapped his shoulder.

  "Ain't it!"

  Dawes shrugged.

  But Reg thought he was talking to him.

  "It is."

  "See, what'd I say. Which is worse Reg? A pissed off General or pissed off Captain?"

  "General."

  "That's what I'm saying. I don't want to piss him off. You don't want to piss him off. Let's just make the report like the General likes it and no one is going to get pissed, okay?"

  "Yes Sir."

  Carver shot a grin to Dawes.

  "He called me Sir. Much respect Reg."

  "Yes Sir."

  Reg steered the cart toward the launch pad.

  As they approached, they could see technicians hustling around, double checking hose connections, inspecting the payload container.

  "That the one with the people thing on the front."

  "The cockpit?"

  "Yeah, that's it."

  "It is. They're supposed to carry a load of four tourists up to ISS."

  "See," Carver crowed. "I told you I read that."

  "I didn't believe you could read."

  "Man, I got this."

  "Got what?" asked Reg.

  "A mental picture," said Carver. "Take us all the way up there."

  "I shouldn't."

  "Think about the General Reg."

  He did.

  And decided the wrath of some guy he didn't see was a less immediate threat than the truck barreling across the tarmac toward them.

  He stopped the cart.

  "Why you stopping?"

  "More guards."

  "I see them," said Carver. "We need to keep moving."

  "They're going to stop us anyway."

  "No, they ain't. You stopped us. Now they're going to catch us."

  "Catch us? Who are you guys?"

  Dawes leaned up and shoved Reg out of the driver's seat. The guard sprawled on the concrete as Carver budged over behind the wheel.

  "Go! Go!" Dawes screamed as he rolled over into the front seat.

  "Hey!" Reg shouted and chased after them.

  But the cart was slightly faster and outpaced his running.

  It couldn't outrun the truck though.

  The guards in the white pick up slowed to let Reg hop in the bed, then squealed as they peeled out after the golf cart.

  "Floor it!"

  "I'm going as fast as it can."

  "You're not very good at a high speed chase."

  "You want to drive?"

  "Yeah, move over."

  "Man I ain't got nowhere to move."

  He yanked the wheel and slid the cart in a long sideways slide that stopped at the open end of a freight elevator at the bottom of the launch pad.

  The two men spilled out onto the grate floor.

  Dawes scrambled up and hit the only button on the panel.

  An alarm shrieked.

  "They coming!" Carver warned. "Why ain't we moving."

  "I hit the button."

  "Hit it again!"

  He did.

  Nothing happened.

  "Did they lock us out?"

  Carver jumped up and grabbed a safety gate. He slammed it closed and the elevator lurched up.

  "OSHA rules, man."

  They watched the truck roll to a stop below and spill out three guards, plus Reg from the back. Their former escort pointed and waved, but from this high up, they couldn't make out the words.

  "Reg looks pissed," said Dawes.

  "You would be too if he knocked you on your ass out of the cart."

  "I panicked. We got there didn't we!"

  "We're not there yet."

  They watched as the floors passed outside of the gate, each level dedicated to a part of reusable rocket that was going to shoot the module into orbit and return to land safely on the pad.

  The techs were scrambling to emergency chutes and leaving the tower in a mad dash.

  "Where do you think they're going?"

  "They probably think we're terrorists or something."

  "Should we tell them?"

  "Man they ain't going to listen to us. Would you listen to a couple of guys that busted in on your rocket."

  "I guess not."

  "Damn straight you wouldn't. At least they ain't shooting at us."

  "Probably afraid they'll hit the ship."

  "Oh yeah."

  The elevator ground to a stop and the gate automatically opened. The top walkway was empty.

  Carver and Dawes ran across the metal scaffolding with pounding footsteps.

  "You know how to open this thing?"

  "Do I look like a scientist to you?"

  A blaring alarm sounded across the tarmac as more trucks raced across the launch pad toward them.

  Carver stopped at a covered work station and lifted the lid.

  His fingers pounded on the keys.

&n
bsp; "Do you need a password?" asked Dawes.

  "It just started right up."

  "Do you know what you're doing?"

  "Man, I don't know."

  He worked on a two finger hunt and peck, tongue sticking out of the side of his mouth.

  "They're coming. What are you doing? You a computer programmer now?"

  "Look man, my brother makes games."

  "Did he show you how to make them?"

  Click. Click. Click.

  "No man, I don't know how to make no computers. But I do know how to do this."

  He held up one finger and pressed a key.

  The rockets rumbled to life under them.

  "You know if it takes off while we're out here."

  "Hang on man, I got this."

  Carver grinned and made a melodramatic finger punch again.

  The door hissed open.

  "How did you do that?"

  "I got skills man."

  Dawes tried to peek around the edge of the work station. Carver blocked his view with his body.

  "Stop playing man, let's get on in there."

  "Let me see," Dawes struggled to move him to one side.

  "Stop pushing me man."

  "Then stop playing."

  "I'm just trying to see what you did."

  "I reprogramed it man. We need to go, people are still coming."

  Dawes pointed.

  "No, they're not."

  The trucks were racing away now and techs ran across the tarmac like ants abandoning an anthill.

  "They're getting out of here man. That's because we need to too."

  Dawes slipped past him and saw the screen. It was a simple graphic with a key overlay, an image of the rocket with instructions for the start up sequence for each section.

  "It's a drawing," he said. "An idiot's guide to flying a rocket."

  "Then it should be simple for you," Carver grumbled.

  He ran across the walkway and climbed into the cockpit. Dawes shook his head and followed.

  The fit was tight, but more luxurious than their previous trip in a rocket. This ship was designed to transport people who paid for the pleasure, so the seats were thicker, the webbing of the belts plush.

  "Damn," said Carver as he settled into the pilot's seat. "They got it nice up in here."

  Carver tried to close the hatch but it wouldn't budge.

  "This isn't going to work."

  "Man sit down. I told you I got this."

  He started pressing buttons on the console.

  The alarms outside got louder.

  "I don't think that's it," Dawes covered his ears.

  "Man, I got this!" Carver screamed.

  He tapped harder, faster.

  The hatch flipped closed and Dawes felt his ears pop as the seals engaged.

  "Got it!"

  Dawes slid across the cockpit and landed in one of the seats. He fumbled with the straps and locked himself in

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  “I ain’t never stole nothing in my life. Stop looking at me like that man. Just because I’m black you automatically think I’m a thief.”

  “Yeah, kinda. I mean most kids steal something. Piece of gum. Soda. Something.”

  “My momma would have whipped my ass if I did that. And when she was done, she would have sent me to my Grandmamma’s. That old woman don’t play. She would have made me go pick out a switch.”

  “My papaw did that,” said Dawes. “He was very particular.”

  “Yeah, if you picked the wrong one, she’d make you go back out and get another.”

  “Guess we have that in common.”

  “That and kicking alien ass. We’re the only two people in the world that did that.”

  Carver puffed his chest up.

  It felt good to admit it, to be good at something, and fighting aliens was a small club.

  “Three,” corrected Dawes.

  He watched Carver deflate a little.

  “Oh yeah, her. She did help.”

  “She saved our bacon.”

  “Yours maybe. I had mine under control.”

  “That’s not how I remember it.”

  “Well you remembering it wrong. Stop playing. We gonna do this or what?”

  “It’s going to be worse than a switch if we get caught.”

  “Then I’ve got an idea.”

  “Another way?”

  “Don’t get caught.”

  Carver pressed the button and the fully automated Star X rocket lifted off from the launch pad.

  No one could hear them scream over the roar of the rockets

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  "You know this is our third rocket ship today," said Dawes as they strapped in yet again.

  "Man, no wonder that General keeps picking us to do this impossible shit. How many other people you think can do this?"

  "How many would want to?"

  "Ain't that the damn truth," Carver said with a thoughtful look on his face.

  "What's that beeping?"

  "Maybe that blinking light."

  "You think I should press it?"

  Dawes put his hands behind his head and leaned back into the cushion of his seat.

  "You're driving."

  "Flying."

  "Dude, whatever. You're in charge."

  "I heard you man. Write that shit down, because I don't want you to forget it."

  Carver jammed the button with the tip of his finger.

  A holographic image appeared floating above the console. It was as clear as if the aliens were in the ship with them and

  Dawes flinched.

  "Damn, I don't know if I'm going to get used to that."

  "Man, can you imagine what they could do with this on the X-box? We need to get this to them and then get some stock, you know. Get paid."

  "Moo," said the image.

  "Yeah yeah, Moo you too. We can't understand your bull-shit"

  "It would be his you shit."

  "Man, shut up."

  "Moo."

  "You stand in the presence of his royal highness, the Admira-bull Tornado."

  Carver peeked at Dawes.

  "Royal? He a King Cow?"

  "Cows are girls. Bulls are boys."

  "King Bull? Cow sounds better."

  "Tell him."

  "Moo," Carver said to the holograph.

  "Watch the way you speak to the Admira-bull," a woman next to him said.

  "What did I say? Who's that?"

  "Your questions will be answered human."

  "Why she talking like that?"

  "Moo," said the bull. The medals on his chest jingled.

  "I am Helen, daughter of Farmer Ted, servant to the Herd."

  "Herd?" asked Dawes.

  "Moo."

  "That's going to get on my nerves," said Dawes.

  "You ain't kidding."

  "What ya'll want?"

  "Surrender humans."

  "Surrender what? Earth? We can't speak for earth. Can we?"

  Carver shook his head.

  "We can speak for us, but I don't think we can for anyone else."

  "Prepare to be dominated."

  "Hey baby girl, you coming on to me?"

  "I don't think she was talking to you."

  "Well she wasn't talking to you."

  "She could have been."