Infected: Sand Fall, #1

By Neil Mosspark

Captain Adam Hill barely survives when his spaceship is dragged far off course by a mysterious force and crash-lands on a remote desert planet. Injured and infected by an alien parasite native to the world, he must find other survivors.

Somewhere across the blowing sands, dozens of the cryogenically frozen crew have been scattered. Each in danger of being prey to the violent inhabitants of the planet. Among them Tricia Young, the crew's doctor, and the only one who may be able to keep Adam alive.

As he searches the sand-covered planet, it becomes clear that they are all far from safe. If the burning sun, scouring storms or lack of water does not finish the dwindling group, the apex predators just might.

Adam and Tricia must find each other to survive, or die.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Neil Mosspark
• Release date: Apr 21, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386616474

Neil Mosspark

I was born in British Columbia, Canada and grew up in the rockies before traveling to see the world. I’ve been writing Science Fiction and Fantasy for more than a decade, but only recently have decided to share my work through eBooks. Currently I have a backlog of novels that I am editing and publishing on various platforms. I write the type of Science Fiction and Fantasy that I enjoy reading. Most of my work takes place in the same ‘universe’ with subtle crossovers that allow fans of my work to pick up on the nuances, while new readers don’t have to play catch up. Please feel free to leave a review, I always love hearing from readers. If you want to chat, you can find me on twitter @NeilMosspark or email [e-mail].   Thanks for reading!

Book preview

Chapter 1

Blaring alarms echoed within the foggy emptiness of Adam Hill’s skull. They resonated all the way to the back of his brain, where his thoughts sought to remain dormant. The sound was so far away. He pried open his eyes and focused on the world outside. Where was he?

A sharp pain erupted in his left forearm, but in the lethargic soup he was mentally wading through it didn’t seem to matter much. By the time he turned to locate the source of the pain, reality had rocketed into harsh focus.

The distant sound became a banshee wail. His heart began hammering against his chest wall; blood flushed to his face, warming him as though he were on fire. Inside the upright glass and metal coffin where he lay, the world began to vibrate and shake.

Adam began to feel concerned as the fog of sleep fully dissipated. He blinked away the cryosleep and rubbed his eyes before searching for the internal screen. The initial numbers and graphs seemed meaningless as they continuously flickered from power surges. He tried to make sense of the chaos and the alarms ringing beyond the glass barrier, which was only a short distance from his face.

According to the screen, there had been some sort of failure: a Code 2.

Code 2? What’s a Code 2? His mind scraped at the checklists he had memorized long ago. Shutting his eyes tightly for a moment, he attempted to dredge them up. They had seemed so unimportant back then.

What was a Code 2?

Frustrated, he realized he couldn’t deal with it in here. He took a few deep controlled breaths in an attempt to fight against the adrenaline-induced anxiety. He pushed the feeling deep down into his gut and, with a shaking hand, reached for the release of the cryogenic chamber lid.

The door slid up and away, allowing the cold, dry air of the ship to wash over him. The emergency klaxon now wailed at full volume, assaulting his ears. He shivered as goose bumps rose on his naked skin. The heaters had not been activated yet. It was obvious to him that something had gone very wrong only moments ago.

Across the aisle his co-pilot, Amanda King, also stood naked behind the glass of her own identical cryotube set in the semi-reclined position. She was a robust woman of average height. Although she was stockier than most women, she usually carried herself with an athletic grace that only now seemed lacking. Her eyes lolled around stupidly until she noticed him. As she shook her head, he could see the preprogramed stimulant activate, causing her motions to slowly become more oriented and controlled. Upon seeing Adam, she opened her cryotube as well.

Amanda! What’s going on? he barked, releasing the harness from his naked form and stepping onto the floor below. As the sole of his foot came in contact with the cold metal grating he could feel it vibrating. The entire ship was shaking like a washing machine cleaning a brick on spin cycle.

Something is seriously wrong, he thought. He struggled to hear Amanda’s voice above the sound of the alarms.

It’s a Code 2, she replied, releasing her harness immodestly and stepping down to the floor next to him.

I know, but what does that mean? He traipsed towards the front of the ship. He could see the cockpit from where he stood. There would be answers once he reached the controls.

Pressure suit first! She grabbed his arm and pointed to the storage compartment next to the pod. There were extras in the back, but this one was designed for him. Complete with a custom medical pack, it was ready to administer drugs or repair damage. Each had been calibrated long ago by those who had sent them on this task.

Right...right... What’s a Code 2? I can’t remember; my head’s all funny. He unlatched the compartment cover and dragged out the folded suit. His hands were shaking, and he swore under his breath as he opened and closed his fingers. The movement seemed to help dispel the tightness in the joints. His fine motor skills, however, had gone out the window.

I feel drugged up too, Amanda said. Must be the cryosleep. I think we got dosed with something to instantly wake us up. It’s going to be a hard comedown later.... She stepped into the legs of her own suit and began zipping it up. Umm... Code 2. I think that means we are way off course. It’s related to the quantum drive. I remember something about calculation issues. Yeah! It’s a miscalculation of the slip drive! We’ve dropped out.

Adam finished pulling his suit over his hips and thrust his arms through the sleeves into the soft gloves. His hands found the fastener and zipped it up. Makes sense. Might account for why we’re shaking so much., He took a deep breath and turned the suit on. He could feel it adjust to the shape of his body and begin to warm. The change in the size of the suit from the time he had previously worn it indicated he had lost mass. Was he in fact smaller now?

How long have we been sleeping? he laughed, running his hands over the constricted material of his abdomen. He paused only for a moment before resuming his journey toward the cockpit.

Amanda, too, chuckled as she turned on her suit and felt it constrict to her own now significantly smaller size.

We should fly cryo more often! She laughed out loud and proceeded to follow Adam. They stepped carefully, each of them keeping a hand on the surrounding bulkhead as they progressed. The shaking was beginning to increase. They managed to enter the cockpit together.

Find out where we are, he ordered as he slid into the pilot’s seat on the left. His hands danced across the controls in a practiced pattern as he performed the power-up checklist. As the monitors rippled to life, he toggled the blast shields covering the windows to open. A ribbon of bright light burned into the room, expanding as the shields retracted.

No! No! That’s not good, she stated quietly as she worked her way through the process.

He calmly continued to work his way through his own emergency checklist; panicking now would only exacerbate their situation. Keep a cool head, Amanda. We just have to get the ship back on track. We are probably just out of the envelope, and can—

A horrendous bang occurred, and the console lights flickered for a second before going out. The hum of the cooling fans quelled, the console lights dimmed, and even the soft background noise of the life support came to a complete stop. Save for the roaring and shaking of the ship, and a growing howl, there was a deadly silence from the internal systems.

Dammit! she said with panic in her voice. We’ve lost power; it’s probably the power surges. She strapped herself into the seat before continuing her tasks.

Once belted into place, she reached up and opened a panel above her head and yanked hard on the interior lever. The thick handle moved slightly and then hesitated for a moment before becoming immobile. Adam reached up, placed his hand on the lever next to hers, and they pulled together. The resistance disappeared, and the handle completed its arc, closing the circuit.

Lights flared back into existence, and the cool breeze offered by the life support returned.

Both sighed for a second, looking at each other. Adam was the first to look away.

That was the core, wasn’t it? he said.

She nodded. Yup. Sure was. Now we’re screwed—royally, totally, completely screwed. Her voice was surreal—calm and resolute.

In your next review... he said as he reached up to toggle the autopilot off, ...I’m going to have to dock you points on your ‘flight deck professionalism.’

She laughed. You get our asses out of this, and I’ll bring the beer at the next ‘review.’

His shaky hands wrapped around the control yoke. Sounds like a deal to me.

Adam’s hands flitted across the console, shunting the remaining power to the control systems. Let’s see where we are. Open the main blast shield. The forward cameras are down.

Amanda reached above her and toggled the system controlling the shield. The hydraulics groaned as the thick composite slab protecting the forward windows of the ship began to slide backwards.

An orange glow flickered and grew into a blazing wave of fire dancing across the glass at high speed. Adam knew that the autopilot was not capable of dealing with a re-entry.

Switching to manual control in three, two, one— His hand wrapped around the control stick and eased it back.

Adam compensated for the off-kilter approach, shifting the mass of the ship with subtle changes as he pulled back and rolled, instructing the ship to alter its course. The tons of metal behind them groaned and shuddered before finally calming.

How much power do we have left? Adam asked as he checked their altitude. The mechanism was notoriously incorrect on these ships. They were designed for space travel and had minimal re-entry capability. It was a design afterthought for emergencies. Now, in their time of need, he hoped it would be accurate.

That power outage was definitely the core, she stated. It’s been ejected. We’re only running on what’s left in the plasma coils—eight percent and falling fast. There might be a leak somewhere too. Maybe we’ve got a damaged engine.

Could be anything at this point, he said as he adjusted the controls again.

The orange glow began to fade until it flickered out completely and was replaced by an orange sky. Adam was disappointed; he had hoped to see stars rather than atmosphere. At least there wasn’t as much shaking, he thought to himself. We’ve got a few kilometers of altitude left. I’ve fixed our approach angle. We’re not going to break atmosphere, but we might be able to land.

Amanda concerned herself with the readings. We’re still coming in too fast.

We’re in the atmosphere now; give me aero brakes. Let’s see if we can take advantage of this thinner air up here. I don’t want to lose any more of the ship than we already have.

Amanda reached forward against her harness to execute the order. They could feel the ship shudder as it slowed. Panels on the exterior of the ship opened, pushing against the air that was flowing past. Hydraulics groaned as they forced their way up against the roaring pressure.

We’ve got the shake back again, he stated. Controls seem sluggish. There’s some starboard drag; we’ve got a bit of a funny—

There was another bang and the ship dropped suddenly, like a puppet with its strings cut. They both could feel their stomachs rise into their throats.

Amanda pressed her right hand against the wall while her left hand gripped the chair, What now? Her eyes read over the ship’s damage reports.

There was a long silence.

What? What is it? he asked. 

Uh . . . I think we lost the hull pressure on the starboard side . . . a huge section of it is gone and were bleeding fuel. We’re down to two percent.

He considered this for a moment. We don’t have enough to land.

Parachutes? she stated skeptically.

Yeah, fire them off; let’s get some drag to slow us.

She reached for the controls above her, unlocked the panel, and pressed down hard on the double buttons. There was a pause. The ship jerked for a second and then continued its rattling fall.

She looked at him. They tore away. Her voice began to rise with concern.

There was a long pause as they mentally scrambled for options.

Could we shunt juice from the cargo? she asked hesitantly.

He contemplated the thought for a second and then thought about what they were carrying.

The thirty-six people in cryochambers were all sleeping through this quietly and calmly. They were expecting to wake on a new planet, ready to begin a new life.

His chest felt tight as he realized Tricia was back there too.

They had grown close during the last few months they had spent together training for departure. Adam tried to recall if he had ever felt like that about anyone. He had expected it to end before the launch, but it didn’t. She had asked him to come with her, to make it a one-way trip. He never told her his answer.

A choking feeling of sorrow welled up in him. Adam had gotten her on this trip, but now he wished he hadn’t. He didn’t want her to be hurt.

The only blessing would be that she would be saved the horror of being aware of their dire circumstance.

What about stealing some power from the life rafts? Amanda said solemnly.

He shook his head. No . . . we can’t do that to them. I’m not going to risk everyone’s life. Adam scrutinized the readings on the console.

We could eject them, though. The pods are self-contained. They’re programmed to land on their own if ejected. The ship was laid out for that.

Once we drop the sections, we lose any power we are siphoning. There’s not going to be a lot left for us, she stated grimly. The worry in her voice was evident.

I think it would be best if you move to the rear, he said as he turned to look at her. I’ve got this . . . The look on his face was calm and understanding. Someone had to remain to fly the ship.

They both knew that whatever happened next was inevitable. Her hand drifted silently to her harness, fingering the latch contemplatively. He could see her hardened face welling up with tears as she was caught in the moral decision he had already made.

You need my help? she asked, her hand lingering on the buckle. She didn’t want to abandon him.

I have this, he laughed, trying to convey reassurance that it was all right to leave. It’s not my first crash.

She blinked, taking her hand away from the harness to wipe her eyes. No...no...I’m staying. You need my help. Her voice was calm and resolved.

He nodded, smiling softly. Amanda was an excellent co-pilot. During the last five years of working together, he had never seen her flustered more than now, and she knew the consequences. He was more impressed by her now than ever before.

Unlocking bolts! she stated, forcing the strength back into her voice as she reached up to arm the system. Systems isolated!

He fought with the controls as the ship listed hard. Five-second intervals. We don’t need them bouncing off each other as they . . . he was going to say