Rex Easly--The Wilde Side

[Garrett Jax]

Chapter One

The first of the five senses to come back to Rex Easly was sound. Almost involuntarily, his mind began to sort and identify the cacophony of noises that assaulted him. Automated alarms sounded a pre-recorded message alerting passengers to quickly, yet calmly, find the nearest escape pod. Unfamiliar footsteps marched back and forth, some with a determined purpose, others sounding as if they were dragging heavy loads across a metal grated surface. Then there were the screams—Painful, fear-inspiring cries from a woman he didn’t recognize. Several footsteps rushed toward the woman. The sound of a gun echoed, and the screams stopped with a final shriek.

The next sense to reach him was touch, or, to be more specific, pain. Sharp, intense pain, all over his body. Instinctually, he began a physical checklist to assess his condition. He could breathe, but not without difficulty. His limbs were sound except for his left arm, which he couldn’t feel. Probably broken, he thought. If the pain was any indicator, purplish black bruises would blossom upon his form, from head to toe.

Taste and smell were lost to him. He couldn’t breathe through his nose at all. He discovered that he was lying face down in a pool of some sticky fluid. Blood. Most likely, his own.

He tried to trace his thoughts as to how he got here. Flashes of memory would come forward and then quickly retreat like elusive shadows. Finally, his mind grabbed hold of something. An attack. His ship was attacked. By whom? He went farther back in time. A vacation. His retirement from the Bretonia Police. He remembered he wanted no fanfare, no parties, no award ceremonies. He just left. He boarded the first Luxury Liner out of New London and made his way to Planet Caracao. On the way there something happened. Gunfire, alarms, panic and death. They were boarded. Explosions were everywhere. He made his way to the bridge, when a bulkhead collapsed. He struggled to recall more, but failed.

Footsteps approached. Panic began to surface as his senses sharpened. The footsteps stopped and he could hear their voices behind him.

“Is he dead?” A woman’s voice, calm and serene.

A man answered. “No. He is still alive.”

“That’s a relief,” she exclaimed. “Grab some men and remove that bulkhead, we need to get him off this ship before it blows.”

Immediately, several pairs of footsteps rushed over to him, and with a heave, the bulkhead was lifted. With the steel beam off his back, Rex began to gasp for air. Frantic struggles to get as much oxygen in his lungs, left him with almost none. He began to hyperventilate. Panic transformed into a full-blown anxiety attack, leaving him in danger of asphyxiation.
A soft hand touched his back. “It’s alright,” the woman said, reassuringly. “Take slow deep breaths and try to relax. You are going to make it.”

The woman’s voice brought comfort to Rex and he immediately slowed his breathing. Long, slow breaths allowed him to fight down the panic that his injuries and lack of air brought on. He wondered who these people were. Were they his attackers? If they were, why were they rescuing him? He tried to turn over on his back and groaned. His broken left arm raged at him as it was forced to move with him. He managed only to turn his head.

At last, his sense of sight came to him as he opened his eyes and beheld the man and woman. They knelt there beside him, concern on their faces. The woman looked young, barely an adult. Her eyes, however, bespoke a wisdom that was beyond her years. The man was much older, a soldier of some rank. Despite his commanding presence, he appeared to defer all authority to the young woman.

A distant explosion on the ship was heard.

Commands were issued and men in military uniforms began preparing to leave the ship. Two of them approached carrying a stretcher. One of the men injected something into his arm and almost immediately his pain lessened. The woman appeared at his side as the men picked him up. She smiled at him. Her eyes told him that everything was alright now. He was safe. Reassured, he let the medicine have its way with him and he fell asleep.

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