by ML Guida
“The police. Sandra filled me in.” He tilted his head toward Walfea. “So, this is your new beau?”
“Yes, he was walking over…” Her voice cracked.
Yes, she said yes. That simple word sent warmth gushing through him.
Steve took Skye into his arms. “I know. Come here.”
“Skye?” Walfea’s gruff voice strained to be heard. He didn’t want her near him. His bear threatened to bulk out but something imprisoned it inside him.
Skye laid her head on Steve’s shoulder, and he detected a sob.
“Skye.” His voice was louder, but it came out like a tiny yelp.
She immediately released. “Walfea?” She caressed his forehead, then kissed him softly on the lips. “I’m here.”
Calm rippled through Walfea. The agony gripping him eased. He’d been wounded before, and Arian nurses had attended him, but he’d never had pain ease by a single caress–no matter how beautiful the nurses had been.
Her beautiful eyes glistened with sorrow and fear. “How are you feeling?”
“Better.” Since she’d stopped hugging the enemy.
His vision zoomed in and out, but her face became clearer. She had bags underneath her red-rimmed eyes. Her face was pale and strained.
But it was the man behind her that he narrowed his gaze on. Steve Walker wasn’t at all what he expected. He was barely taller than Skye and looked like a good strong wind would knock him on his ass. With his wavy brown hair and wire-rimmed glasses, he looked more like a librarian than a killer.
Looks meant nothing. He’d learned the hard-way on Sutois.
Footsteps and muffled male voices echoed down the hall.
Something woody drifted into the room. He turned his head back and forth on the pillow. Think…He knew that smell. It was getting closer and closer.
Pain thudded between temples, blocking out all memory.
No…Remember…He had to remember….
The voices and footsteps got louder. The smell was stronger.
Two men entered the room. Shades, was it one of them?
They both dwarfed Steve who didn’t seem to be at surprised that they were here. A man, his blond bangs nearly covered his eyes, waved. “Hey, Skye, Steve. What’s happening?”
Steven grinned. “Just keeping an eye on my lead singer.”
“Jeff, Davey.” Skye smiled. “What are you two doing here?”
“Steve called. You don’t think we’d all disappear when our favorite singer’s life is in danger, do you?” The other one shrugged. “Damn, Hector.” His long dark hair flowed over his broad shoulders. He was handsome, but evil could hide behind those brown eyes. He hugged Skye. “Are you okay?”
“Thank you. You guys are the best. I’m fine.” She was trying to be strong, but he could hear the tremor in her voice.
The man cast his gaze over her and by his knotted brows, he didn’t believe her.
“Really, I am.” Skye straightened and flicked her hair behind her head. She clasped his hand. “Walfea, these two are in my band.”
The three men came closer to Walfea’s bed. Their shadows fell over him. His heart beat fiercer. One of them was guilty. One of them was evil. He could feel it in his bones all the way down to his toes––like dark, looming clouds. He released a low growl.
“Did he just growl?” Steve stepped back as if he were afraid Walfea was going to bite him. If Walfea had been a bear, he would have.
The dark-haired man glared. “He’s in pain, dude. He just got shot.”
Walfea wrinkled his nose. The woody scent grew stronger, more cinnamon, than pine, and Walfea shook his head, trying to dislodge it from his brain. He could taste it on his lips–overly sweet and spicy.
She patted the blond man with the over-the-top bang’s back. “This is Jeff Weaver, rhythm guitar…”
Jeff did a half-wave. “Hey, dude, bummer what happened.”
“And…” She gestured toward handsome man. “And Davey Logan, drums.”
Davey shook his head. “Sorry about this. Hector’s a fucking psycho.”
Walfea nodded. He couldn’t answer with the fog mucking up his brain and gagging on the scent.
Skye looked at the door as if she were expecting someone else to walk into the room. “Where’s Gary?”
“Took a plane to see his sister in Milwaukee,” Jeff said. “His sister finally had her baby.”
“That’s some good news.” Skye smiled, her worry lines disappearing. “What did she have?”
“A little girl. You know, Gary, he was super excited.” Jeff pulled out a phone and handed it to her. “Here––he sent pictures.”
“Aw, she’s really cute.” She glanced at Steve and Davey. “Davey, have you seen them?”
Davey laughed. “Do you think he could keep his niece a secret?”
“No,” Skye admitted.
A white-haired nurse, wearing black-framed glasses, walked into the room.
“Hi, Betsy.” Skye gestured toward the two men. “This is my band.”
Betsy smiled. “Nice to meet all of you. Which one of you is Davey Logan?”
Davey raised his hand. “Yeah, I am.”
She turned and gestured toward the door. “You have a phone call at the nurses’ station.”
He frowned. “I wonder who could be calling me here. Did they leave a name?”
“No.” She shook her head. “Just take it right down the hall.”
Davey left, muttering under his breath. Walfea wasn’t sure, but he thought he was cussing out Steve, telling people where he was. Maybe Walfea wasn’t the only one who didn’t trust Steve.
She turned to Walfea. “Now, how are we feeling, Walfea?”
Walfea refused to appear weak. “Fine.” His voice was gruff and loud, and it took all his bear strength just to say one damn word.
She frowned and checked the machines that Walfea was hooked up to. Compared to the medical lab on the Intrepid, it was as if he were chained up to torture devices. The bullets shouldn’t be affecting him this way.
Something was wrong. Deadly wrong.
Betsy put her hand on Walfea’s sweating forehead. “This isn’t good.” She pulled out a thermometer. “Please, Mr. Arian, open your mouth.”
He obediently did it, hating the metal taste of the thermometer. The thermometer beeped. Betsy pulled it out. “Just as I thought, he’s got a temperature. I’m afraid he has an infection.” She checked his wounds and clicked her tongue. “You all have to leave. I need to contact the doctor.”
“Sure.” Steve walked over to the door. “Come on, Jeff. We need to go.”
“Right behind you, dude.”
Skye leaned over and kissed his forehead. “I’ll be right down the hall.”
What if it wasn’t Sandra that had called Steve? What if it had been Hector?
Walfea grabbed her arm. “You need to be…careful… Might not be…Hector.”
“No, it was Hector.” She moved his hair off his forehead. “You need to relax.”
His shook his head vehemently and dug his fingers deeper into her flesh. “Listen to me.”
“Ow, Walfea. You’re hurting me.”
Steal-thumping cramps doubled inside his gut and he brought up his legs. Bitterness edged up his throat. Skye’s beautiful face, Betsy’s old one, the window, machines, and curtain spun around him. His stomach churned. He closed his eyes to keep from spewing.
“I’m sorry, dear, you’re making him agitated.” Betsy looked at one of the machines. “You need to leave. I’m afraid he’s about ready to go into convulsions.”
“Hello, what seems to be going on?”
Walfea forced himself to open his eyes. The spinning wasn’t as bad, and he widened his eyes, trying to focus. A man, wearing a white jacket, stood in the room. He was about twenty years younger than Betsy.
“Dr. Davis, Walfea seems to have infection or having a reaction to the medication.” Betsy gestured toward Walfea. “He’s running a high fever.”
Sw
eat stung Walfea’s eyes. He pulled Skye closer. His hand was shaking so bad he had to hang onto her for dear life. “Don’t let them give me…anything. Having a reaction. Call Intrepid. Get…Vaughn…Killing me…”
“Please, dear,” Betsy urged. “You need to leave.”
“No…” Walfea whispered. “She…stays.”
“She can stay, Betsy.”
“Yes, Doctor.” Betsy’s voice was less than approving.
“Let’s see, what’s going on, shall we?” Dr. Davis checked underneath Walfea’s bandages.
Walfea gagged on putrid stench.
“Oh, God.” Skye covered her mouth. “How did they get infected so quickly?”
Dr. Davis replaced the bandages. “He doesn’t seem to be healing properly.”
“I don’t understand, Doctor.” Betsy handed him an electronic pad. “I just checked his wound. The skin was red around the wound, but there was no puss.”
“Well, there is now. Puss oozing out of his wound. I have never seen anything develop so quickly. It’s getting worse by the minute. We need to bring his fever down. Give him five hundred milligrams of vancomycin.”
“Yes, Doctor.” Betsy exited the room fast for an elderly woman.
Walfea struggled to breathe.
The pain moved from his pounding temples down to his throat, burning until it reached his stomach, exploding like a hydrogen bomb.
“He’s going into convulsions. Code-blue.”
Skye sobbed. “Oh, God, Walfea. No!”
Running feet pounded down the tile hallway.
Dr. Davis clasped Skye’s arm. “Ma’am, you need to step outside and let us do our job.”
“Skye. Call…Vaughn. Killing me.”
Please…call…Vaughn.
His teeth were chattering violently. His body tossed and jumped on the bed. Pain and heat consumed him. The last thing he saw before he passed out was Skye’s terrified eyes.
Chapter 17
Skye sat in the waiting room, leaning her head on Jeff’s strong shoulder. She clutched a tissue tight in her hand. Her throat was swelled up and her heart ached. She was glad Jeff was here. She didn’t know if she could go through this without him. She didn’t realize how much she cared for Walfea.
She stared at Jeff’s boot that was covered with mud. “What if he dies?”
“He’ll be okay, Skye.” Jeff rubbed her back.
“From what you said, he’s a tough bastard.” Steve sat across from them.
Davey came over and handed her a glass of water. “Here, you need to drink this.”
Skye took the glass of water. “Thank you.”
Steve stood. “Skye, the doctor’s coming.”
Dr. Davis came down at the hallway with his mouth pinched and his eyes hollow. Skye slowly stood with Jeff’s arm around her. She knew what the doctor would say, but she prayed she was wrong.
“Ms. Carr, things don’t look good.”
Shit, she was right. She sagged against Jeff who held her tightly.
“Walfea has a massive infection, that for some reason, we can’t get under control. We’re giving him all the antibiotics I can prescribe, but he doesn’t seem to be responding. He might even be allergic.”
Skye trembled uncontrollably. “What’s wrong with him?”
“I’m not sure. I’d like to do exploratory surgery, but he’s far too weak for me to touch. I’m afraid we’ll have to wait.”
Skye wiped her tears with her shaking hand. “What happens if he doesn’t respond?”
Dr. Davis didn’t turn away. “You need to prepare for the worst.”
“No.” She wiped her tears away. “I won’t.”
“Meaning?” Steve gave her a weary look.
“He’ll slip into a coma and die.”
Skye covered her mouth. “No.”
“I’m sorry, Ms. Carr. We’re doing all that we can.”
She looked into his defeated eyes and knew he’d given up hope. But she hadn’t.
Contact Vaughn.
Walfea’s soft words burst into her mind.
She grabbed her purse. “Thank you, Doctor.”
He nodded and quietly left them.
Steve reached for her. “I’m sorry, Skye.”
She pulled away from him and frantically looked inside her purse for the telicator. “Crap, it’s not here.”
Steve frowned. “What’s not there?”
“My cell phone.”
He flashed her an incredulous stare. “Why do you need your cell phone?”
She grabbed the strap of her purse tight. “Because I do. I need to go.”
Steve threw up his arms. “You’re not making sense. Where?”
“My phone’s back at the caretaker’s house. I need it.” Her voice hardened into sharp daggers.
“How are you going to get there?” Jeff scratched his temple. “You don’t have a car.”
“I’ll walk if I have to.”
Steve shook his head. “The guy you can’t take yours eyes off of isn’t more important than your phone?”
She gritted her teeth. “I need my phone.”
He shoved his hand into his back pocket and yanked out his keys. “Fine, I’ll take you.”
Should she trust Steve? If she didn’t take him up on his offer, Walfea was dead. She stared down at her boots, wishing she had another choice. “Okay.”
“I’ll come with you.” Jeff locked his arm through hers. “Hospitals creep me out.”
“But–”
“Don’t worry.” Davey saluted her. “I’ll stay here.”
She exhaled a pent-up a breath. “Thank you.”
Davey put his hands on Jeff’s shoulders. “Just hurry back.” He winked at Skye. “I don’t like hospitals either.”
She forced a grin, but she tapped her foot nervously.
They walked outside, not saying a word. She knew they both thought she was nuts, but she couldn’t tell them about the telicator. They’d haul her off to a padded white room.
Vaughn was the only chance to save Walfea.
Steve’s black Escalade was parked in the front row. They all climbed inside, she and Steve in the front and Jeff in the back. Steve liked luxury SUV’s, including all the latest gadgets, posh leather seats, and roominess.
“Thanks for doing this.” She glanced between. “Both of you.”
“No problem.” Jeff stretched out his legs. “Gotta hand it to you, Steve, you’ve got some nice digs.”
“Only the best,” Steve grinned. He pulled out of the parking space. “You and Davey didn’t come together?”
“No. I didn’t have time to pick him up.”
Jeff and Davey lived less than a mile apart.
Steve shook his head. “His motorcycle’s in the shop. I bet he was pissed he had to drive his corvette.”
Jeff shrugged. “He’ll get over it.”
Steve pulled onto highway eight. “Okay, how do I get to Sandra’s?”
“She’s a couple of miles away from the town of Frisco in Bill’s Ranch.” She quickly gave him the directions.
He drove the speed limit as always, and she wanted to bop him on the head. She could have run faster than his car.
Skye pointed. “That’s the gate. You just turn up here and go up the driveway to the main house.”
“I’ll open the gate.” Jeff got out of the car. He swung open the gate, then pulled out his phone. He wasn’t on very long, but it seemed like a lifetime.
Skye rolled down the window. “Who were you talking to?”
He hurried back to the car. “Davey. He said there’s no change.”
Skye blinked. “He called you? Why didn’t he call me?”
“I don’t know.” He squeezed the back of her shoulder. “I was just worried.”
Steve’s SUV lumbered up the pebbled driveway. The front gate was almost a mile from the master house. When he finally pulled up between the two houses, she flew open the door.
“Skye, God, I haven’t finished parking,” Steve
yelled.
She didn’t care and limped and hopped all the way to the front door. Luckily, she still had Sandra’s keys. She burst into the living room and grabbed the telicator that was still sitting on the coffee table. How could she have been so dumb and forgotten it?
Her stomach clenched. Blood stained the hardwood floor.
Steve and Jeff headed toward the house.
“I have to go to the bathroom,” she called over her shoulder.
“Okay,” Steve answered.
She hurried into the bathroom and locked the door. “Here goes nothing,” she murmured. She pushed the button that Walfea had recently unlocked.
“Intrepid? Is anyone there?”
At first there was no response.
She cleared her voice. “Intrepid? Is anyone there?” Her voice was louder.
“Captain Tash, here. Who is this? How did you get on this frequency?”
She jumped back at the gruff voice.
“This…this is Skye Carr. I’m a friend of Walfea and I’m from Earth.”
“Obviously. Where is Walfea?”
Well, he was your typical Neanderthal.
“He’s…” She choked.
Don’t cry.
“Answer me.”
She blinked back tears. “He was shot. The doctors operated, and he’s had a bad reaction.”
“This is Vaughn. This is important. What did the doctors give him?”
She wanted to jump and down like a little kid at Christmas, but his worried voice crushed her. “They gave him antibiotics, but he’s not responding.”
“No, he wouldn’t. We’re allergic to Earth’s antibiotics. He’ll go into shock and die. Where is he?”
Her heart shattered, and tears fell down her face. “He’s at…Centura Health in Frisco.”
“I’ll be there in less than an hour.”
“How do you know where we are? How can you get here so fast?”
“That doesn’t matter,” Captain Tash interrupted. “We’ve fixed on your location, and we will be there soon.”
“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”
“Walfea’s one of my crew. I don’t leave a fallen man behind. Out.”
She wiped away her tears. Now, she understood why Walfea looked up to the man.
“Skye, are you all right?” Steve called.
“I’m fine. I’ll be right out.” Her puffy eyes were blood-shot. She splashed water onto her face. She quickly braided her hair and stuffed it underneath her cap. “He’ll be fine.” She was still a mess but looked a little better than the living dead.