Meteorite Strike by A. G. Taylor Page A

were fitted with cooling units, but they could still feel the intense sun beating down.
    â€œLet’s get this over with quick,” the commander said as they walked to the back of the truck. He pulled down the back door and they both grabbed the end of the sleeper casket, hauling it out. The unit slipped unexpectedly from their gloved hands, rolling down the side of the dune all the way to the bottom.
    â€œOuch, that’s gotta hurt,” the younger soldier said, thinking of the drugged prisoner inside the casket.
    The commander shook his head. “Well, we’re the ones who have to drag the casket back up to the truck. Major Bright said leave no evidence.”
    The other man groaned and they started down the dune, kicking up arcs of sand as they went. “Just what did this guy do to get on the wrong side of Major Bright so bad?”
    â€œMaybe he asked too many questions,” the commander said pointedly as they reached the casket. He pulled a lightweight dart-gun from his belt, as did his companion. They’d been ordered to use non-lethal force to avoid suspicions being aroused if the body was ever found.
    The commander grabbed the release handle of the casket and threw it open. What they saw inside made them both step back…
    It was empty.
    The commander crouched by the casket and examined the interior. There were signs of damage to the frame, as if someone had been kicking at the lid from the inside. Clearly, the prisoner hadn’t been given enough sedative to last the journey. Which led to the question, where was he now?
    Both soldiers looked back up the dune to the open back of the truck and then at one another.
    â€œOkay, let’s take it slowly,” the commander said.
    The other soldier nodded and they started back up the dune, dart-guns raised…
    They spotted him crouching near the back of the cab – no doubt trying to get in through the airlock. They’d been sure to lock the door, of course. Sensing their approach, the prisoner made a break for it, running wildly into the dunes. The young soldier raised his dart-gun, but the commander placed a hand on his arm.
    â€œDon’t waste your darts,” he said, watching the prisoner fleeing into the distance. “There’s nowhere for him to go – he’ll die out here within a day.”
    The other soldier lowered his gun and nodded, a little disappointed to miss the chance to shoot someone.
    â€œAll right, let’s get the casket and get back to the base,” the commander ordered. “I’m starving.”
    Five minutes later they had the evidence of their presence back in the truck. The prisoner was nowhere to be seen, so they went back through the airlock. Job done – they both agreed there was no need to tell Major Bright the details of how the prisoner had escaped…
    Hidden amid the dunes, Daniel watched the truck circle round and depart in the direction from which it had come. As it disappeared into the distance, he stood up and dropped the air filtration unit he’d removed from the back of the cab onto the sand. If his understanding of the cab system was correct from his quick analysis, the soldiers in the truck were now breathing unfiltered desert air – completely virus-contaminated.
    Daniel started to follow the tracks of the truck back towards the HIDRA base. The sun began to beat down feverishly on his back and his mouth already felt parched. He hadn’t had a drink in what seemed like days and now he faced the prospect of a walk through the desert. Daniel knew it wouldn’t be long before his body gave up to the effects of dehydration.
    He just hoped that the soldiers succumbed to the virus and that he found the truck before then…
    Inside the dome, Major Bright knocked briskly on the door of his superior’s office. Colonel Moss looked up from a stack of paperwork, his face dark.
    â€œProblem, sir?” Major Bright asked.
    Moss held up one of