Читать книгу Mercenary. Scrapper. Part 2 - - Страница 5

“Scanning inconclusive.” the AI reported for the hundredth time. “I’m sorry, I cannot find Captain Serena.”

Ever since the sandstorm started, they were unable to find any signs of Serena anywhere within the vicinity. Hunter felt helpless and enraged to be stuck on a ship without any knowledge about what happened to the woman.

The man forced down the urge to kick something and jumped to his feet, grasping his hair.

“Damn it!” he growled.

“You are sleep deprived, Hunter. You should get some rest.” Lyssa said. “I’ll continue searching.”

“How can I sleep, when I don’t even know if Serena is alive or not?!”

“You should trust her more. She’s a strong and capable woman.”

“I know that! And I also know that something must have happened! Otherwise she would have checked in already.”

“You should get some rest, Hunter. The stress you are experiencing is affecting your ability to reason.”

“I’ll go have something to eat, if that will make you shut up about it.” Hunter headed out of the bridge.

“Sleep would be preferable, but you hadn’t eaten in two days, so that is also a valid form of recuperation.” the AI replied.

“Any news from the Growler?”

“Negative.”

“Let me know when they check in.”

“Of course.”

Hunter sighed heavily, understanding that the situation they were in was a harsh one. The sandstorm prevented them from finding Serena in the first few days when she disappeared, and the lack of communication ever since made it even more unbearable.

As soon as the sandstorm began dying down, Cipher offered to get to one of their informants to see if Serena contacted them. The SS Growler left the very same day, heading to the town, leaving Hunter on the location they’ve set up as a rendezvous point before Serena left for her reconnaissance mission to search for any traces of the Red Lanyards – the renegade mercenary gang that terrorised the area.

Hunter cursed himself for letting her go on her own and staying on the ship to scan and monitor for any mentions of the gang mentioned through the local net of audio frequencies. Over the days he had found nothing of the sort, scanning through radio communications – when it was possible – between cities and the few trading caravans that carried goods between them. But as soon as the storm hit, all communications seized.

The man walked into the dining area and stopped in front of the processor, wondering if he was hungry or not. Lyssa offered him a tray with some thick soup, a couple of pieces of freshly baked bread and a cup of herbal tea.

“Thank you, Lyssa.” Hunter took the tray and sat down at the table in the empty and lonely room.

“Always ready to help, Hunter.” the AI said.

The man ate without appetite, lost in his troubling thoughts about Serena. He didn’t know what else to do – other than the constant scanning and hailing, there was nothing he could really do. If he were to leave the rendezvous point, Serena might come back with no one to greet her.

He kept trying to calm himself that the reason they have lost communication was due to the heavy sandstorms that continued to whirl around. Perhaps, Serena was staying somewhere to wait out the storms?

“Hunter.” Lyssa’s voice sounded, making the man jump to his feet.

“Serena?”

“No. SS Growler is approaching. Hailing failed due to the interferences in the atmosphere.”

Hunter gritted his teeth, forcing down his anger at the whole situation.

“How close are they?” he ruffled his hair, trying to calm down again.

“Landing in fifteen seconds.”

“Why didn’t you notify me earlier?”

“I couldn’t detect a clear signal through the storm.”

“Great. Just great!” Hunter headed towards the cargo bay, where, as he thought, his friends would want to enter Lyssa to debrief.

He saw Cipher and Pher approaching the bay door just as he stepped up, opening it. The wind roared – though, not as hard as the previous days – and threw red sand inside the cargo bay. Cipher and Pher hurried up into the ship, patting themselves from the sand.

“Any news?” Cipher coughed, spitting to the floor from all the sand that he caught while running from his ship to Serena’s.

“None.” Hunter grimaced. “You?”

“Our informant hadn’t heard anything yet. But he promised to keep his eyes peeled.”

Hunter couldn’t contain his anger anymore and kicked a box with provisions:

“Fuck!”

“Look, we’ve done what we can for the moment. Right now the best thing is to sit out the storm. Perhaps, as soon as it calms, Serena would be able to send word.” Pher slapped his friend on the shoulder. “Let’s have a drink and rest a while?”

“A drink…” Hunter growled. “A fucking drink…”

He turned and walked off, heading towards the dining area and thinking how much alcohol would be able to knock him out – just for him to stop thinking about Serena’s disappearance.