One Fell Swoop by Allison McDonnell

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Danziger was fully immersed in his work. After all, he had a lot to accomplish in a small amount of time. And more importantly, by concentrating on the duty of gathering aerial photographs of the surrounding topography, he could more easily tune out his anxiety over foolishly disclosing the details of his relationship with Devon. However, he also had to admit, if only to himself, that he was experiencing a rather surprising sense of relief at finally having told someone.

He paused and shook his head, his eyes panning down over the ledge to the rapids located below. Perhaps filling in Magus wasn't so bad after all, he continued to try to convince himself, valiantly attempting to fight his overly pessimistic instincts and instead put a positive spin on the situation. Besides, it wasn't as if Devon and his veiled affection for one another wouldn't be glaringly apparent to the rest of the group in a few weeks anyway. What was the real harm, other than facing a one-woman firing squad over his loose lips? Sure Devon would be angry with him for a while, but she'd get over it. Eventually. Hopefully.

The visions of his enraged future girlfriend which, for reasons that he could never begin to properly comprehend, were rather pleasant images to behold in his mind, were abruptly interrupted by a burst of noise, followed almost simultaneously by a flash of light behind him. Danziger's entire body flinched and he instinctively covered his head before quickly recovering, whipping around to view the last vestiges of a flare plummeting back to earth. There was only a passing second before he heard Magus' muffled, but still clearly frightened yell.

"Danziger! I need help!"

John broke into an immediate sprint toward his friend's voice and his speed didn't falter in the slightest as he bent down to scoop up the mag-pro lying on the grass as he passed by. Although Magus was no where to be found, Danziger followed her cries for help, along with her steady stream of profanity until he came upon the large bush dripping with blackberries. And directly in front of it was a hole which he estimated at about twice the length and depth of the grave that he'd dug many months before to bury the Grendler he'd accidentally killed.

Magus could hear Danziger's approach and she cautioned, "Careful where you step. More of these traps could be anywhere."

John slowly edged forward, ensuring that he remained on solid ground as he made his way to the corner of the pit. Sure enough, at the bottom of it was Magus. And she wasn't happy at all.

John inspected her surroundings more closely and realized that the entire cavity had been jam-packed with the same prickly vines that were abundant in the region. However, these vines had been uprooted and then dried out before being expertly twisted in every direction possible. Many strands had been curled to resemble barbed wire, complete with varying lengths of razor sharp thorns protruding outward. It was glaringly apparent to both Danziger and Magus that she had become the victim of a crude hunting trap which had been constructed to capture and then hold onto its prey until it could be later retrieved by someone. Or something.

He noticed that Magus was wedged up to her elbows in the jagged materials. "You okay?" he called down to her.

The crew-woman looked up to meet his eyes, her face displaying several streaks of blood across her cheeks and chin. "Yeah, just scratched up. And royally pissed off," she scowled, shaking her head. "I'm gonna be pullin' these shanking thorns outta my skin for the next three weeks."

Wasting no time, Danziger laid flat on his stomach and extended his arm into the pit. "Can you grab my hand?"

Magus wildly yanked both of her arms, only to have them become more entangled in the bristles. "Nope, I'm stuck," she exclaimed with frustration.

She could feel her emotions starting to swell, so she closed her eyes and took several calming breaths. After regathering as much of her composure as she could under the circumstances, she reopened her eyes and began to search for possible escape options. She looked down to realize that, although her left hand was practically pinned to her side, she was able to stretch her fingers upward just enough to touch her hip.

"Hey, I can reach my knife!" she said excitedly as she carefully removed the tool from her belt.

"Good. Start cutting," came Danziger's reply from above as he restood to his full height.

It was a slow, meticulous task. Although the width of the vines themselves were thin and quite easy to slice through, cutting them away was simply not enough because the multitude of thorns remained snagged in Magus' clothing as well as embedded into her skin. Therefore, it was necessary to sever each branch every few inches and then pull the offending item away as carefully as possible; an endeavor which still left a good amount of torn fabric and droplets of blood in its wake.

While Magus painstakingly began to disengage her lower arms and the upper waist portion of her body from the vines, Danziger searched the enclosure for a possible way down. However, he quickly concluded that, because the hole was much too steep and riddled with branches, the only thing that would likely be accomplished by joining her would be his entrapment at her side.

The mechanic's eyes then fell upon a particularly thick rope-like vine about two feet below the ledge which seemed to loosely outline the entire pit. Realizing that the placement of that root was much too calculated in nature and had likely been purposely affixed at that location, John's line of sight followed its path as the two ends joined together at the base of the blackberry bush and climbed the trunk almost all the way to the very top. He squinted to view a small piece of mechanical equipment camouflaged among the dark colored clusters of berries and his breath caught in his throat as he came to the sober determination that the branch had served as a trip wire.

"Magus, did you set off that flare when you fell in?" he asked.

The blond woman looked up at him as if he'd grown a second head. "Are you kidding me? I can barely move!" she snapped. "Plus, I didn't bring the damn flare gun!"

Danziger's face expressed his deep concern. "We need to get out of here. Right now," he relayed as calmly as possible.

Magus' eyes widened as the reality of their situation also hit her head-on. The flare gun had obviously been rigged by the hunter to flash an alert whenever the trap had ensnared a new occupant. Which meant that whoever or whatever had set the device was now aware of Danziger and Magus' presence. And they were probably on their way right now.

"Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God," she began muttering as she moved the knife more swiftly over her clothes.

Danziger pricked up his ears and peered off into the distance, scanning back and forth as he inspected the landscape for any sign of movement. And it wasn't too long before he detected a shadow among the outlying trees. The single silhouette suddenly split into two, then parted into four before finally spreading out into five separate darkened images, all of which continued to gradually advance toward John and an unseen Magus.

"What the hell is that?" Magus called out, hearing the ever-loudening crunch of twigs being snapped beneath feet.

"We're not stickin' around to find out. Hurry up," the mechanic replied matter-of-factly.

Magus began hacking at the vines at a frenzied pace. "Jesus, Danziger, my legs are still completely tangled up in this shit. It's everywhere!" she cried in a frightened, shaky voice.

"Just keep cutting. You're doing great," John reassured, though there wasn't much encouragement in his voice as he watched the shadowy figures further spread themselves out to widen the scope of their approach.

"What's happening?" Magus asked, about to burst out of her skin.

Danziger's nervous eyes darted back and forth between Magus and the converging strangers. "There's five people coming up on us."

"Do they look friendly?"

"Cut faster," came the terse reply.

Magus began her 'Oh, God,' mantra again, now interspersed with mumbled pleas for Danziger not to leave her behind, as she chaotically slashed through the thistled branches clinging to her lower legs. She finally reached her boots which were almost fully concealed by the layers and layers of vines. The crew-woman knew that she couldn't waste precious minutes slicing through them all, so she wedged her knife under the blanket of vines and directly next to the top of her left boot. She then worked the sharpened tool back and forth until she made physical contact with the thick laces and began to cut a slit downward, loosening the shoe. With pained, frightened grunts, she was at last able to contort her ankle and foot enough that it could be extracted from the boot and she immediately repeated the process on the right foot.

"Okay, okay! I did it! I'm loose!" she cried out triumphantly as she yanked herself free.

Greatly relieved that he could finally do something besides simply waiting there and looking helpless, John threw himself onto his belly and reached into the pit with both hands, grabbing Magus by the upper arms and hoisting her back onto ground level. They hurriedly climbed to their feet and John swung the Mag-pro over his shoulder before grabbing Magus by the waist and giving her a hard shove in the direction of the cliff.

"Go, go, go," he whispered, fully understanding that the strangers were briskly closing in on them.

The ever-quickening footsteps grew louder as Magus and John reached the clearing. Suddenly, a deep, male voice rumbled almost directly behind them.

"Stop right there!"

Neither Edenite looked back and instead increased their speed along the ledge as they ran toward the original path they'd taken. The pair was only about twenty-five yards from the spot where they'd come in at when they were forced to skid to a halt by the sound of a gunshot, along with the whiz of the bullet as it flew just over their heads.

"Perhaps you didn't hear me, friends," the male voice said, and from which Danziger detected a slight cockney accent. "I just asked you to stop."

Magus and John traded a foreboding glance, fully aware that they were caught. Fearful of what might await them, they ever so slowly pivoted to face the awaiting strangers who had fanned around them in a half-circle, essentially backing them up to within just a few feet of the edge of the cliff.

Danziger had been correct that there were five of them, all of which were men ranging in ages from their early thirties to their mid-forties. Three of the five were the very definition of the old-Earth legends that Danziger been told as a child about Mountain Men. They had a generally unkempt appearance with long beards, stringy hair, tattered clothing, and seemed to be long overdue for a bath, despite the nearby water source and the constant rainfall. The fourth displayed a similar ungroomed appearance yet his attire, while too small for his hulking frame, was in much better condition. He sported newer boots, trousers and, most significantly, a burgundy vest which displayed the insignia VA-1587.

The fifth man, who stood front and center, was obviously different from the others. He was the oldest with cropped salt and pepper hair similar to a standard military cut, and was clean-shaven. He was also outfitted in newer, well-cared-for clothing which fit him like a glove, including a long sleeved blue Ops jacket which was also clearly recognizable as being from the Eden Project. Even though he wasn't the largest presence in the group, he stood the tallest and commanded the most attention. It was easy to discern that he was the leader. And he was also the one holding the gun.

The fifth man stepped forward with confidence. "I must admit that this is quite a pleasant surprise," he proudly announced, his accented, commanding voice easily drowning out the sounds of the downpour as well as the rushing waters below. "We're not all that used to visitors up here, at least the human kind. That trap you fell in is usually reserved for the local wildlife. When we first built it, we'd occasionally catch one of those large, slobbering beasts, but that lot learned pretty quickly that this place was off-limits to their kind. Unless they wanted to end up as stew, that is."

One of the slovenly strangers piped in, "Yeah, once you get past the disgusting smell, their meat tastes amazingly like poultry."

Danziger tried not to go pale at the comment and instead focused his attention on the gun which was still aimed directly at his stomach. The leader followed John's line of sight back to the weapon gripped in his own hand and his face expressed surprise, seemingly embarrassed as if he'd forgotten that he was brandishing a firearm. Danziger wasn't the least bit fooled.

"I'm sorry, where are my manners?" he said good-naturedly, lowering the gun to his side, but not putting it away. "M'name's Edmund Griggs. I'm sort of in charge of this little group of ours." His free hand pointed from his left to his right as he introduced the others. "That there's Damon Duffett, Arthur Gray, Andrew Norris, and the little guy on the end is Charlie Simms."

The four barely grunted when their names were called and none of them turned to address Danziger directly. This was because their sights were completely focused upon a very uncomfortable looking Magus.

"John Danziger," the mechanic offered, nodding stoically. "And this is Laura Magus."

"Very glad to make your acquaintances," Edmund exclaimed in a tone that was somehow enthusiastic, yet void of all emotion. "I see you're both wearin' ID tags 'round your necks," he noted. "How 'bout tossin' those over here, so we can be sure that you're not fibbin' about your identities?"

As the two removed their dog tags, he added, "While you're at it, you might as well go ahead and set that big gun of yours on the ground, too."

While John grudgingly did as he was told and placed the Mag-pro just out of arm's reach in front of him, Magus took the opportunity to slip her hand into the pocket of her jacket and activate the distress call on her gearset. She fervently hoped that they were still within communication range of Eden Advance and that their current high altitude wouldn't scatter or suppress the signal. She inwardly recited a small prayer, beseeching any and all Higher Powers to assist in helping their friends get to them in time.

Edmund carefully scrutinized the inscriptions on John and Magus' identifications, which luckily for the two Edenites, provided nothing more than their full names, birthdate, serial number and final rank when discharged from military service. Giving the impression that he was now satisfied, he retained possession of the tags, shoving them into the pocket of his coat. However, the gun still remained at his side.

"So now that we're all on a first name basis, what brings you to our part of the woods?" he asked with a feigned smile.

"We're just passin' through," Danziger relayed with as much self-control as possible. "We thought the elevation might give us some insight on the best route to travel."

Edmund continued to do all the talking for his group. "Where you headin'?"

"West."

"Mind if I ask why?"

John gave him a mild shrug. "Just lookin' for a nice place to settle down and call home. We hated the snow back East and we don't want to get bogged down by another winter."

Edmund steered his full attention toward a still-silent Magus. "And it's just the two of you?" he questioned.

"Yep," she confirmed, infusing as much assurance into her accompanying nod as possible.

Edmund cocked his head to the side, his expression cautious. "And how did you find your way onto this planet?"

Magus opened her mouth to speak, though she had absolutely no idea as to how to best answer him. She also hoped that the strangers weren't able to tell the difference between the generous amount of sweat forming on her brow and the raindrops running down her face.

"We're environmentalists," Danziger cut in. He paused to allow Edmund some time to respond, if desired, as well as to take a much needed few seconds to concoct a believable tale. He decided to go with an abridged version of Whalen Curry's life, rationalizing that it would be much easier to remember a story which was loosely based upon fact.

"The government branded us as eco-terrorists. We were tried for our crimes and then jettisoned here with the rest of our group. Our new surroundings didn't agree with our leader and he ended up goin' a little nuts, so Magus and I decided that it would be best to break away from them and go off on our own."

Edmund was intrigued, though obviously not convinced that John was telling the truth. "Very interesting," he declared, rocking back and forth on his heels. He motioned at his co-horts before deciding to offer a tidbit about their own backgrounds. "I guess that you could say that our small band of merry men were victims of forced government relocation, too. That pretty much puts us all in the same boat, right?"

Danziger and Magus tried not to register their fears at the confirmation that these men were indeed penal colonists and, like Gaal before them, had probably committed crimes so heinous that they'd been cast from the Stations.

Edmund pointed at Danziger's jacket, furthering, "I also notice that we seem to share a similar taste in the wardrobe department."

Luckily, Danziger had already readied himself for that impending question. "Yeah, last year we found a cargo pod filled with clothing and other supplies. We took as much as we could carry."

The mechanic looked Edmund up and down before turning toward the man identified as Damon Duffett, who was currently attired in the burgundy Ops vest. "I guess you all found one, too?"

A devious, slightly demented smile, stretched across Damon's face. "Nah, these clothes came from a couple of blokes we ran into a few months back."

Edmund carefully watched Danziger and Magus' reaction to his words as he retook over the conversation. "Yeah, they claimed to be part of a crew droppin' off a payload of colonists, but their ship somehow got caught in the gravitational pull," he explained. "A few of 'em made it onto an escape pod and they ended up crashing here. Wasn't too long before people in their group started gettin' sick, so they took off before they caught the virus."

Danziger held his breath for as long as possible to keep from emitting a gasp. It was obvious that Edmund was talking about two members of Eden Project who had escaped on the same evacuation pod as Wentworth and Firestein. And based upon the labeled clothing, these were undoubtedly two of their co-workers from the Ops crew. These were two of their friends. Oh God.

"Are they still here?" John asked with calculated indifference.

Charlie Simms, the smallest in overall frame, yet the one who by far wore the most frightening expression which gave off the impression that he was mentally unhinged, was more than happy to fill John and Magus in.

"Nope. Them two were nice enough fellas at first. But then they didn't want to share their supplies with us. And that was just plain unneighborly."

He grinned with maniacal glee, exposing several missing and corroded teeth. "So we dealt with 'em accordingly."

At hearing this, Magus and John did their best to keep their emotions in check, yet there was no way that they could completely mask their horror at what had obviously become of their colleagues. Magus, in particular, was on the brink of hyperventilating and her heart pounded so strongly that her entire body pulsated from its rapid rhythm.

Meanwhile, Danziger gathered his inward strength, determined to do whatever he could to keep them from meeting the same violent fate. "Well, we don't have much, but you're more than welcome to whatever we got," he exclaimed.

"Thank you. That's very much appreciated," Edmund replied with a faux smile, trying to act as though they'd had a choice in the matter. "You can start by emptying your pockets."

Both did as they were instructed and eventually made a small pile of belongings at their feet which included two gearsets, two nearly filled canteens, two knives, a pair of jumpers, a compass, several tools, a piece of citrus, and four packages of Spirolina. As they placed the items on the ground, John tried to reposition his jacket to hide the pistol which remained holstered to his side. At the same time, Magus prayed that the convicts wouldn't notice the small green light on the side of her gearset which confirmed that the device was currently transmitting a distress signal.

Once they'd complied, John reslicked his wet hair back from his face and said, "So we'll just leave you everything here and be on our way then."

Edmund seemed to ignore Danziger's comment entirely and instead stared at the mound of equipment in front of them. "Hmm... strange," he murmured, rubbing at his chiseled jaw.

Danziger was jarred by the odd non-response to his declaration that he and Magus were leaving. "What's strange?" he asked, pretty much readying himself for anything.

Edmund's eyes remained on the ground. "You're wearing the same jackets and carrying a lot of the same supplies that those other two were. Plus, you're also headin' West," he relayed in an eerily cool fashion. "Maybe that's just a coincidence. Maybe it's not."

He took another breath and proceeded to point out, "'Course there are differences, too. You're certainly a lot cleaner and healthier-lookin' than the other fellas. And you have weapons. That makes me suspect that you have more supplies hidden somewhere. It also makes me think that you're not travelin' alone."

Edmund's hardened gaze remet Danziger's. "In other words, I'm pretty sure that you've been lyin' through your teeth from the moment you opened your shankin' mouths."

His calm voice took on a slightly cynical tone. "So since we've become such fast friends and all, perhaps the two of you should stick around with us and let us pick your brains for a bit. Maybe find out who you really are and where you're from, not to mention the truth about why you were dumped on this godforsaken pile of dirt."

"We got us a cave just over yonder," the man previously identified as Andrew Norris exclaimed, gesturing behind him. "It ain't much, but it's home."

"It could certainly use a woman's touch," Damon added, hungrily looking Magus up and down.

"So could the rest of us for that matter!"

"Ain't that the truth, Charlie!" Andrew snickered over the boisterous cackles from Damon, Arthur and Charlie. Edmund noticeably didn't crack a smile.

Magus began to shake uncontrollably and she looked like she was about to expel the contents of her stomach, so Danziger decided that it was high-time that he took charge.

"Sorry, but I'm afraid that we're gonna have to turn down your generous invitation," he expressed firmly. "Magus and I travel alone and we're not planning to stop until we reach the coastline."

Edmund clicked his tongue several times and shook his head disapprovingly. "Wasn't really an offer, but a directive, mate," he proclaimed. "And I'm also gonna have to strongly insist that you give up that pistol hangin' on your belt."

Danziger's hand went to his side and he unholstered his weapon. "No thanks. That stays with me," he said unflinchingly as both he and Edmund raised their respective guns to point them at one another.

"If you don't, Arthur here is prepared to take it by force," Edmund stated casually, barely showing any reaction to the knowledge that there was a gun currently aimed at his chest.

"What a coincidence. I'm prepared to keep it by force," Danziger spat, glaringly aware that all of the convicts, save for Edmund, were slowly starting to advance toward them.

Danziger and Magus took two steps backward. "Now you can take everything we got here including the Mag-pro, but we're leaving now," the mechanic said, his breath quickening as he grew more anxious.

"I'm afraid that's not going to happen, friend. It appears as though our entire situation has changed. You are no longer a welcome guest on our mountain," Edmund said, his eyes fixed icily on Danziger. "Then again, we can't exactly let you leave either now, can we?"

His gaze shifted briefly to a terrified Magus. "You're free to stay with us, Ma'am. In fact, I absolutely insist on it."

The other convicts didn't feel the need to hide their giddy delight at the news. "Don't you worry there none, Lassie. We'll treat you real good," Charlie told her with a lecherous laugh. "As long as you treat us real good first."

"John," Magus gasped, almost paralyzed with fear. The mechanic's response was to step in front of her to shield her from harm as much as possible.

The pair couldn't help but watch with rapt fascination as, for the very first time, a grin of genuine satisfaction crept across Edmund's face. "And as for Mr. Danziger," he instructed to his co-horts. "Send 'im for a swim."

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