Burn Out

by Kristi Helvig

  It came out of nowhere—something sharp in my side that hurt like hell. I felt blood running down the inside of my suit. Then everything went black.

  Chapter NINE

  MY FATHER SPOKE TO ME TENDERLY THE NIGHT BEFORE HIS murder. Part of him must have suspected his Consulate visit was a one-way trip. He’d gone over all the safety procedures because he said this business trip might be longer than usual. I hadn’t guessed then just how long my alone time would be. For the first time, he hadn’t had me practice with the guns after dinner. He said he hoped I’d never need to touch them again. Then he kissed me good night, which he hadn’t done since the night he found my mother and sister dead.

  The voice filtering through my mind at the moment was not tender. It sounded grating and harsh.

  “Could someone please explain why we’re helping her? She only came so she could take part of the water anyway, so why are we giving a crap?”

  “You’re almost as much of a charmer as Tora.”

  I didn’t need to open my eyes to picture that beaklike nose. I tried opening them anyway, and squinted in the intense light of the room. Markus stood near Britta, watching me with amusement. I tried to sit up but fell back in pain.

  Markus chuckled. “Somebody took a hard hit.”

  I gritted my teeth. “From what?” I twisted around as if the mysterious cause of my injury would be found somewhere in the room. Dizziness overtook me and everything blurred. It took a minute for my vision to clear.

  James sat in a chair behind me. His head leaned back against the wall like he was too tired to hold it upright. His eyes drooped in apparent fatigue. “A rock. Two of your ribs are fractured.”

  I touched my left side under the white medical gown, and could feel bandages covering the area. Medical gown? Where the hell are my clothes?

  “How did I get in this?” I asked, picking up the hem of the gown.

  “I sure as hell didn’t help you,” said Britta. She flung her straight hair over her shoulder. “I’d better go tell our leader that the princess is awake.” Britta stormed to the door, then turned to Markus and raised an eyebrow at him. “Coming?”

  I glared at Markus. He smirked. “Don’t look at me. Ask the medic there.” He gestured at James, then followed after Britta down the hall.

  Blood flooded my cheeks. Aside from my panties, the only things under this flimsy excuse of a gown were bandages. It took everything I had to turn and face him again and, even then, I couldn’t meet his eyes. “You put me in this gown?”

  When he responded with silence, I was forced to look up. I swallowed, trying to sound nonchalant. “Aren’t you a little young to be the ship’s medic?”

  “It’s what I trained to do, before some other stuff happened.”

  I should have trained to be a dentist, because getting more than a sentence out of him at a time was like pulling teeth. “And?”

  At least he had the decency to look embarrassed. “I’m sorry. I needed to check your ribs and clean up the wound before I taped it.”

  “Please tell me Markus wasn’t in here.” I knew Markus best, yet he was the last person I would want to see me naked.

  “No. No one was. I tried to get Britta to help …”

  I put up my hand to stop him. “No explanation needed there.” I eased off the metal bed, but the dizziness returned and I stumbled.

  “Whoa.” James rushed to my side, easing his arm around my waist. “Easy there.” He guided me back onto the bed into a sitting position.

  My head pounded and my vision went out of whack.

  I tried hard to bring James into focus. “What’s wrong with me?”

  His arm stayed around me, keeping me steady. “Do you mean medically—or otherwise?”

  I heard the smile in his voice and relaxed. “You’re lucky I can’t see you well, or I’d smack you.”

  His tone grew serious. “Mild concussion. You flew out of my grasp when the rock hit you, and you hit your head pretty hard on a step of the ship. You should be fine in a few days though. The ribs will take longer to heal.” He cleared his throat and turned me to face him. “I’m sorry I couldn’t hold on.”

  Though still dizzy and nauseous, the concern and remorse on his face were unmistakable. I had a strange urge to reach out and touch the blond stubble on his chin. Though I still didn’t trust him, he had saved me when he could have let me die. “I wouldn’t have made it at all if it wasn’t for you. Thank you.”

  We stared at each other until I heard footsteps in the hallway.

  “See? She’s just fine. I don’t see what all the fuss was about,” Britta said, hand on her hip.

  I pulled my eyes away from James. I couldn’t afford to get attached to anyone anyway. After all I’d lost, I’d learned it was better not to care.

  Markus touched Britta’s arm and her stance softened a little. She flashed Markus a tiny smile. They’d apparently done some serious bonding during their night together. I shook my head—that was a visual I didn’t need right now.

  “What do you say, James?” asked Kale.

  “Sir, her ribs will take time to heal and her head will be hurting for a bit, but I think she’ll be fine. Her suit repaired itself adequately.”

  “Nice work,” said Kale. “Tora, we’ll leave you here to rest while we gather up some supplies. We can’t go back until the storm ends.”

  It must still be night. I couldn’t hear any bombs going off in the distance, just the unmistakable winds. I noted a container of water by my bed, with a Caelia Pure label on it. Real water from another planet, not the recycled piss I’d been drinking forever. James nodded at me and I chugged the whole thing in three gulps. This must be what heaven tastes like. I couldn’t believe they had bottles and bottles of the stuff. We could drink water whenever we were thirsty.

  “Why can’t we just take off and run for it?” Britta asked. “It’ll be light in less than an hour and they’ll be back.”

  “No,” said Kale.

  He didn’t say anything else. He didn’t need to. I knew he wouldn’t leave without the guns. They were his only bargaining chip. But we did need to get back to the bunker before daylight or the Consulate would be waiting for us.

  “We need to go,” I said, realizing how improbable it sounded. Between my concussion and cracked ribs, I’d never move fast enough to make it home between the storms.

  “Astute observation there, my dear,” said Markus. “Wanna tell us how we can do that?”

  “Yeah,” answered James. Every head in the room turned to him. One of the perks of not saying much was that everyone paid attention when he did. “We fly there.”

  “Huh?” asked Britta. “You mean like fly a hundred feet?”

  Kale looked at Britta like she wasn’t the brightest bulb in the bunch. “More like eighteen hundred feet.” He turned to James. “Brilliant plan.” Which it was. I wondered why James wasn’t in charge of this ragtag group.

  “The Consulate could destroy the ship once it’s parked there,” James noted.

  Kale stroked his chin. “Maybe, but I think it’d be more useful to them whole—or for parts. They’d be crazy not to want a second space drive. We’ll kill them before that happens.”

  A tiny voice nagged in my head saying that maybe James wasn’t just trying to spare me from the night storms. Maybe it was part tactical reasoning. Kale wanted the guns and like he’d said earlier, it wasn’t practical to transfer the guns when the ship was so far from the shelter. It would certainly be easier if his ship was right next door.

  We didn’t have much time before sunrise. Once the latest night storm subsided, we’d fly to the shelter, keeping close to the ground. It would only take a few minutes and under the cover of dark, there was a chance we could avoid detection by the Consulate ship.

  Everyone left the room to grab the containers of Caelia Pure to transfer to the shelter for now. Kale also packed up the vitamin supplements, energy packets, and other key cargo in case the ship got raided. Everyone except Jame
s, who riffled through the various cabinets in the med room and gathered first-aid supplies and medications. He fingered one small box of pain tablets and turned to me. “Did you want anything for pain? I didn’t want to give you any medication without your permission.”

  Right. He certainly didn’t have a problem getting me naked without my permission. I opened my mouth to refuse, but my own small stash of painkillers flashed in my mind. Plan B. It would be stupid to turn down something that could be useful later.

  “No, I don’t want any now. You should bring them though. You know, just in case.”

  His brow wrinkled, but he slipped the box into the supply bag. He surveyed the room and turned to me. I tried to forget I was still naked save for a bit of white fabric. “I’m going to take this stuff up front. Your clothes are on the table over there … you should get dressed.”

  He’s seen you without a stitch of those clothes on. I snorted. “You mean you’re not going to stick around like last time I was naked.”

  James sighed. “I told you, I did what was necessary to help you.” He waved his hand over the door panel and it slid open.

  I called after him. “So, you were only focused on my injury. You didn’t notice anything else.”

  James turned around, a serious look still on his face but a spark in his eyes. “I didn’t say that.” He went through the door before I could respond. It closed behind him.

  My mouth hung open in the empty room. I should be angry with him, yet a small part of me liked the look on his face. Then reality kicked in. Here I was, injured and surrounded by enemies, yet worried about a medic seeing my body. Had my father taught me nothing?

  I lowered myself down to the floor, and dressed as quickly as I could, wincing as I raised my arms to pull on my faded gray T-shirt. My gun lay next to my clothes. After dressing, I powered up the gun and moved to the door while trying to ignore the lingering nausea. I waved my hand over the door panel, and it opened easily.

  The hallway lights buzzed faintly above me as I moved through the hall. The walls were a faded gray, like the color of a dead person. The only decorations were an assortment of dents and chips. This ship looked older than dirt. How it could fly fifty yards, let alone across the galaxy, was beyond me. How did they get here from Caelia on this piece of crap?

  I passed a room to my right containing four sleep chambers. Clothes were strewn over two of the sleep pads, while another was neatly made with clothes folded atop it. Clothes that looked like Kale’s military ones. The other chamber didn’t appear like it had ever been slept in. Why was Kale sleeping with the crew? More important, why was he working against his own government, and how did James and Britta get involved in all this?

  Another door stood open farther down the hall. I knew I shouldn’t snoop, but curiosity got the best of me. Darkness saturated the room. I reached my hand inside, waving around for the light panel. The space lit up and I stepped inside. This had to be the captain’s quarters. It contained just one enormous sleep chamber. I closed the door behind me so I wouldn’t be seen from the hallway. The orderliness of the room impressed me. Not a thing out of place. Nothing to even suggest anyone lived there, aside from a pair of shoes lined up neatly by the door. A small clothing container rested against the wall. I couldn’t resist.

  I quickly opened the top drawer. Socks. Lots of socks. All white. Folded in matching pairs, as if it mattered, because they were all white. What did I think I’d find in here? I started to close it when I noticed something in contrast to the white, underneath one of the sock pairs in the far corner of the drawer. I moved the socks aside and pulled out a picture. No one printed out pictures anymore; they were too fragile. Viewing photos on an e-reader gave you living, breathing, three-dimensional images versus the flatness of the thermoplastic paper I held in my hand.

  A cute little blond boy with hazel eyes stared up at me. I knew instantly it was James. He must have been five or six years old, and his smile radiated out from the photo. Surrounding him were a man and woman I assumed were his parents, and a smaller blond girl with eyes identical to his. They stood close together, the mother’s hands around each of the children’s shoulders. They looked happy. My eyes pulled back to James and that smile. It was a real smile. I couldn’t imagine anyone who had to endure the harsh existence of Earth being happy, yet my sister had been that way too. Maybe someone who loved you enough to shield you from reality could keep the sadness away.

  Except if the person who made James happy died, maybe the weight of the world crushed him in the aftermath. The few smiles I’d seen from him didn’t reach his eyes the way this one did. The mere fact that he brought the picture everywhere meant that he’d loved his family a lot—maybe even loved his sister as much as I loved mine. I pushed the picture back under the socks and shut the drawer. Why were James’ things in the captain’s quarters? Maybe James needed his space here too? I needed some answers, and fast.

  I opened another drawer filled with perfectly folded T-shirts. He really had an aversion to color because there was nothing but white here either. I lifted one to my nose and inhaled. It was clean, yet still smelled faintly like James, and somehow a little like the ocean. Get a grip, it’s a stupid shirt. Impulsively, I took the folded shirt and tucked it under the waistband of my drawstring pants. The loose fit of my pants might not win any fashion awards, but they proved to be quite functional. I pulled my T-shirt down over my pants, covering the shirt.

  I’d never stolen a thing in my life, yet a guy’s shirt was shoved into my pants. I couldn’t explain the sudden compulsion to take something of his, and I definitely wouldn’t be able to justify it to the others if I got caught. Maybe you do have oxygen deprivation. I had to get out of there. They would wonder where I was by now.

  This time the hallway beyond the doorway was darkened. Maybe they were the kind of high-tech lights my dad had installed in the shelter that would only light up when they sensed human energy. I stepped into the hallway. Nope. It stayed dark. I felt around for a light panel on the wall. After locating one, I waved my hand over it.

  Light flooded the space. “There, that’s better—”

  Something connected with the back of my already bruised head and I went down hard on my face. Trigger flew from my hand and skittered across the floor. A humming echoed in my ear at the same time the hard sole of a boot pressed down into my back. I knew that hum. It was one of their guns. My ribs felt like they cracked in a few new places, and excruciating pain shot up my spine. A high-pitched chuckle came from above me. Stupid bitch.

  “I can’t wait to turn your ass over to them,” Britta said.

  Great. I could guess which “them” she was talking about. Britta and the others would probably run off with the guns as soon as they threw me at the Consulate. They’d have the guns, the Consulate would have me, and all I’d have was a lousy T-shirt.

  Chapter TEN

  BRITTA YANKED MY HANDS BACK FARTHER AND FORCED PLASTIC electronic cuffs around my wrists. The motion made my entire rib cage feel like it was cracking apart. I’d made a huge mistake refusing those pain meds. She pushed her finger on a small button on the cuffs, and they shrank to the size of my wrists, ensuring there was no way I’d escape them.

  She pulled me to my feet with one arm, demonstrating surprising strength for her petite birdlike frame. I’d read once that birds were descendants of a horrible creature called Tyrannosaurus rex. If nothing else, I finally understood the evolutionary process. The gun pointed straight at my left temple. “Scream and I’ll muzzle you. Got it?”

  She shoved me toward a small hallway. I guessed she was not taking me to the main hatch where everyone was going to rendezvous. As soon as the ship touched down, we were supposed to race from the hatch to the shelter.

  It wouldn’t take more than a few minutes before someone would come looking to see what the holdup was. What the hell did she think she’d do with me? I’d be useless to the Consulate dead—I couldn’t operate the stupid guns. As much as Britta dislik
ed me, I’d only be helpful to her if I was alive and kicking.

  “I’m guessing you’re not following Kale’s plan,” I remarked.

  Britta spoke in a low voice. “I’m following my own plan. I have to look out for myself.”

  That sounded like something I’d say. Before I had time to ponder this, she nudged me in the back toward a room at the end of the hall. Britta waved her hand over the door panel. When it opened, she pushed me inside and followed me into the space.

  “Totally unnecessary push,” I said and struggled to retain my balance. The cuffs dug into my wrists as I tried to yank my hands free.

  I peered around the room. It looked like a storage area with strange containers inside. Britta waved her hand over a light panel, and a small hatch door illuminated on the far side of the room. Sweat broke out above my lip. No one was around and she really hated me. Was she planning to push me out the service entrance and let me cook in the sun? Oh, God, I really didn’t want to die the way my sister did. Britta walked over to the odd containers and pushed a button. One container lit up and made a buzzing noise. Then the entire top of the rectangular-shaped box popped open.

  Britta pointed at the box. “Get in.”

  I’d never been a claustrophobic kind of gal—after all, I lived in an underground cave half of my life. However, this little box looked like it could only contain, well, me.

  “Look, I’m sure we can work something else out.” I tried to twist and turn my hands in an attempt to escape the handcuffs, but they were so tight, I’d started to lose feeling in my fingers.

  Britta came toward me. “Don’t bother. You’ll just hurt yourself.” I struggled against her grip, though each movement caused fresh pain to tear through my ribs. “Don’t worry.” She steered me to the box. “It’s a human transport container.”