Scrapper's Hope

By Timothy P. Callahan

Embark on a thrilling journey with Scrapper, a tarnished former United Corp Captain, as he leads a daring salvage crew towards an irresistible fortune orbiting a gas giant. Their target—an enigmatic science vessel—beckons with promises of untold wealth and redemption.

However, upon breaching the ship's confines, they're met with a harrowing sight: a massacre has left only two survivors. Naomi, a skilled computer programmer, and Professor Litchen, the vessel's esteemed scientist, present conflicting tales of a horrifying transformation that turned their comrades into bloodthirsty creatures.

Despite mounting warnings and conflicting accounts, the allure of the ship's treasures blinds Scrapper to his instincts, compelling him to stay. But as the secrets of the survivors unravel and the vessel's mysteries deepen, regret seeps in, shrouding Scrapper's decision in haunting uncertainty.

Prepare to be gripped by this tale of suspense, betrayal, and chilling discoveries as Scrapper navigates a treacherous path, haunted by the consequences of his choice and the ominous revelations lurking within the vessel's dark corridors.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Timothy P. Callahan
• Release date: Dec 27, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223980315

Book preview

Scrapper’s Hope

by

Timothy P. Callahan

* * * * *

PUBLISHED BY:

Timothy P. Callahan

Scrapper’s Hope

Copyright © 2015 by Timothy P. Callahan

For more information, please visit www.timothypcallahan.com

Chapter one

Naomi pressed her knees tightly to her chest, taking in quick, gasping breaths. Her rapidly beating heart deafened her. She rocked back and forth, tears streaming from her eyes as she squeezed them shut. She heard the beastly howls echo in the hallways as the monsters called to each other. She bit her lip and held back a scream. ‘The closet will keep me safe, keep me safe from my friends, keep me safe from the monsters, the closet will keep me safe,’ she repeated in her head, over and over.

A small moan left her lips when she heard a cracking sound from outside. A normal ship sound, the air recycler turning on. Some other survivors? No, everyone was dead, she was the only survivor.

Outside, footsteps approached her door. She heard what sounded like voices, people talking. A male voice, then a female. The monsters’ voices were different, not human. She risked moving as she unclenched her arms from her knees. Placing both hands on the ground, she crawled slowly toward the door and placed her ear against the cold metal.

A male voice, deep and confident, yelled, What the hell is that?

Then the sound of rapid gunfire. Energy rifles went off quickly, several dozen shots fired within seconds. Naomi scampered quickly to the back of the closet and screamed while holding her hands hard against her ears, trying to drown out the sounds of the fighting.

The door to the closet flew open. A man stood there, his body in shadow, holding an energy rifle. The barrel of the gun glowed red hot. Naomi screamed and ran toward the man. She knocked the wind out of him as she ran into the hallway, nearly running over a woman who managed to grab her, spin her around, and pin her up against the wall.

Hey! Hey! the woman yelled. Hey! Snap out of it! We're friends! We're your friends!

Monsters! Naomi screamed, spittle flying out of her mouth.

You mean like that? The woman said, pointing to a dead heap of blood and fur. We found two more roaming the hallways, found lots of dead bodies too. Thought the ship was empty. Who are you?

Naomi looked around wildly, her eyes darting back and forth, as if waiting for another attack.

The man she knocked over stood and rubbed his chest. Take her back to the Jolly and have Doc look her over.

The Jolly? Naomi asked. Her rapid breathing slowed as did her heart; she began to feel safe. A calm looking woman gazed back at her with concern. A stern looking man, his arms folded across his chest, his eyes not looking right at her, looked around impatiently. They were humans, not monsters; not people pretending to be monsters, but humans. The idea that real people stood in front of her confused her troubled mind. You're not monsters?

No, dear, the woman said, loosening her grip on Naomi. We're not. We can talk about this on the Jolly.

Am I finally safe?

We won't hurt you, she replied. We want to help.

Oh god, I'm safe. No more monsters.

No more monsters.

Naomi's body relaxed and went limp.

#

Scrapper watched Trang take the strange woman away. Everyone knew the stories of people going crazy in space, imagining monsters; he’d even met a few of them, the poor deranged souls. But when his crew arrived and three women in wet and bloody fur coats attacked them, and those three women lay dead near his feet, he forced himself to reconsider how crazy those people really were.

Scrapper walked over to one of the dead bodies and with his foot turned it over. A woman looked back at him. Her dead eyes wide in rage, her lips curled in a snarl. Several of her front teeth were missing. Dark hair on her scalp grew in patches, with tiny black holes where hair should have grown. The skin on her face had folds that reminded Scrapper of a blanket on a disheveled bed. The tips of her fingers were bloody, most of the blood deposited from the pinkish area where her fingernails should be. Her body was rail thin and he easily saw her rib bones through her thin, pale skin.

He stood and looked at the other two dead bodies. His men would need to space the bodies and clean up the mess.

First though, he walked down a long hallway and found a door labeled Science Lab. On the other side of the door was a long hallway with transparent walls and doors. As Scrapper walked down the hallway, he looked inside the rooms. Pieces of broken and smashed equipment littered the floors in some of the rooms, while others looked as if they hadn’t been touched. Most of the equipment, he didn’t recognize; but the few he did that were in good shape could be sold for a lot.

He tried all the doors and found all but one unlocked. The locked door did not have a glass window and the door looked sturdier than the others. It had the look of a door which was hastily reinforced with the kind of armor plating normally found on the outside of ships. The welding looked fresh and couldn’t be more than a few days old.

He pulled a gun from his belt, and with the press of a button, set it on torch mode. He placed the gun's barrel a few inches from the door and pulled the trigger. The gun hummed and emitted a tight high-energy beam. The door’s handle melted and dripped onto the ground into molten drops that solidified instantly against the cold floor. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he slowly moved the gun around the locking mechanics. The heavy bolt finally gave way to the heat of the laser, and with a loud crack, broke away. The door opened and Scrapper took his finger off the gun's trigger.

Light from the hallway illuminated only a few feet into the room. A mild sense of surprise went thought him when the auto-lights didn’t turn on. Might have been damaged at some point. He’d have to ask his crew to check that out.

With his gun still in his hand, he switched it over to flashlight mode and pulled a trigger. He scanned the wall, scarcely able to comprehend what he saw.

Long slashes shredded the wall in foot-long increments. Gingerly, he felt along the edge of one of the gashes, then he quickly swept his light along the floor. He saw blood and he focused his light on the trail that crossed the room to the far corner. He lifted his light higher and it reflected against a pair of eyes. He jumped back, then steadied himself when he realized the person was dead—and too mutilated to be even identified as male or female. Whoever it was, looked like they had been fed through several band saws.

He stood and walked out of the room. He would send someone down there in a minute, after his heart stopped trying to escape his chest. He didn't need for anyone to hear how much a dead body startled him. He’d seen death before, more than he would like. Space was never a safe place and there would always be dead bodies.

Sir, sir, came the voice of Yelolus, his Ulliam engineer. Short, with grey wrinkled skin, the Ulliam’s stocky build was designed for power. Their long arms nearly touched the ground, which wasn't difficult, since most Ulliam never grew any taller than four feet. Their flat-faced head rested between two shoulders, giving them the look of a permanent shrug. Thousands of years of genetic engineering by a race known as the Gyssyc, produced a race which was part servant, part fierce warrior. Subservient to a fault, the race looked up to humans and used their society as a model on how to become a less inferior species. The power is under control now, there wasn't much damage at all. However, we have a problem with the ship's computer.

Is it a sentient computer?

Yes, but I can't get it to work.

Why not?

The computer’s core has been erased.

I'll see if Smiley's team can do something. How's the particle accelerator?

It's been deactivated.

Can you activate it again?

My team can, but it will take some time.

Get to that when we're ready to leave. Continue doing what you need to do to get this ship running. I want to take it back with us if we can.

I will, Yelolus said in the chipper way all Ulliam talked.

He continued to work his way up toward the bridge. He found the lift which would take him to the middle of the ship and entered. The bridge sat in the middle of the ship, and the elevator ride was short. When he reached his level, a door opened and he found four members of his crew walking around chatting. A young blond woman everyone called Smiley waved him over. Sir, come look at this.

Are we getting closer to figuring this ship out?

Yeah, we think so. The computers are still wobbly, not sure when we'll be able to unwobble them, but we're getting closer. This isn't a military ship, so the systems are not as locked down, but they have a pretty tough encryption going here. We'll knock that wall down soon.

What did you want to show me?

She pointed to a monitor. The ship’s security system. I was able to get the last hours' worth of recording off it and let me tell you, it is not pretty. I'll show you the good parts.

The two walked over to the computer and Smiley pressed a button on the computer's keyboard. The recording played. The first thing he saw was the woman they had found in the closet, running down the hallway clutching what looked like a rifle to her chest. She turned and pointed the gun at something. It was difficult to make out exactly what was chasing her. It moved like a human, running on both it’s hands and feet. A brown and black fur coat covered its back. The girl pointed her gun and fired, missing the creature, but scaring it enough to slow it down. She dropped the gun, turned, and ran out of view of the camera. The creature followed, once again running on all four limbs.

She got away. About fifteen minutes later, we arrived, Smiley said, then stopped the recording.

Scrapper rubbed his beard and sighed. What happened here, he thought. What is going on? "Get what you can from the computers. I'm sure there's terabytes of data we can sell to the right person. Take the equipment. We can work on decrypting it on the ship. I want to get out of here as soon as we can."

Afraid of the U.C. finding us?

Yeah. We have a problem with that woman being on the ship.

You sure you want to take the time for us to dismount the computers?

How long will it take?

A few days. If you give me more workers, we can turn it into a one day operation.

Once we have men free, I'll send them up here. These computers and what's in them could make us all rich enough to forget this life and move onto a new one.

Aw, Smiley said,