by Lia Black
Grimacing, he pulled off the helmet of the dead hunter, shaking out the bits of skull and brain as best as he could before putting it on over the cap he was wearing. The bloody visor gave everything a blurry, red haze, but clear vision wasn’t really necessary. He knew where they were.
Mercury tossed the bag over one shoulder and hoisted up the injured man with the green eyes and nice ass. The pulse gun he’d taken from the hunter was set to stun, but a simple flip of a switch set the beam up to something a lot more deadly. On stun, it would feel like a punch to the head; on obliterate it could cut a body in half. While the armor was bulletproof and stun proof, it would not withstand a shearing plasma burst.
When he stepped out of the ship, the hunters initially believed that he was their lost companion. After Mercury killed the two standing closest to the ship, the others quickly realized their mistake.
“Abort abort abort!” He heard the panicked orders though the helmet’s speakers from one of the two who remained. They both began running towards the transport shuttle.
He drilled a hole though the middle of one with one long blast, but by then the other one had made it to his cruiser. He decided to let that one go— reinforcements would be here any second, and he was still too groggy from his stasis to take them all on.
The landscape was unfamiliar; where the shuttle had crashed was an open plain of cream-colored sand, but directly behind it was a vast, green forest, the tall, foreign trees created a nearly perfect seam between the two extremes and a low, green mist rose like spirits from the dark soil. Staying out in the open wasn’t an option, so Mercury adjusted the weights over his shoulders and started off into the trees.
7
Sean was starting to come around. The landing had been anything but graceful. The last thing he remembered was the shuttle snagging the tops of some trees as he wrestled to keep it from going nose-first into the planet’s surface. They crashed down on a stretch of open plain, just outside of the woods. He’d felt every bone in his body smack into every other bone as the ship touched down and skidded to a violent stop. He had no idea what had happened to Rodney, but odds were if he hadn’t found a way to brace himself from the crash he was probably dead, or would be shortly.
Sean remembered the smoking console and unbuckling his restraint but he’d lost consciousness before he could get himself to the door. The fact that he was outside must mean that somebody had found him. Relief that he was still alive was edged out by the realization that he couldn’t move his arms or legs. Panic and confusion converged and became a lump of something hot and choking in his chest. His pulse was beating along his neck and he fought to keep it from sending him into a panic. Taking a few deep breaths, he forced his brain to do an assessment of the situation. He could still feel his limbs, but when he tried to move them they felt weighed down, or as though he were fighting against a strong current. No, not a current…bindings. Someone had tied him up. Rodney? Was he alive too? Why would he have bothered to tie Sean up when the last time he’d seen him he’d wanted him dead?
The air was cool and he shivered, as much from the temperature as the heat of his adrenalin-laced blood draining from his muscles. The planet was a strange collage of climates and composition. The trees were more like giant weeds with thick, woody stalks, covered in fine hairs. The forests between the mining settlements were made up of this enormous flora. The hair, and way that the trunks twisted to follow the three suns across the sky made them seem more like animals than plants.
He heard a sound and realized that it was someone humming—something simple and catchy. The voice was unfamiliar and androgynous with a pitch that could easily be male or female.
Shit.
The chill he’d been feeling now worked its way through his spine. If that was who he thought it was, Sean was completely fucked, in every negative sense of the word. Dealing with Rodney might have been the better choice.
He cracked open his eyes to see the back of someone sitting about ten feet away, dressed in body armor. The color was a strange gray-white that gleamed like silver where the light hit it. On one arm was a blue insignia, something that looked familiar, and yet he couldn’t place it through the fog in his brain. Long, silver hair was streaked with rust— no, blood— as was the pilot’s cap he wore. It was the same one Sean had seen Rodney wearing a few hours ago. Sean recognized those angelic, inhuman features as soon as his captor turned around. even through the smudges of red on his face. His razor-sharp smile turned Sean’s blood to ice.
“Ah, good evening, Pretty,” said Mercury Fie, as though they were all ready well-acquainted. He was going through Sean’s wallet, his police badge all ready pinned to the front of the bloody cap like a decorative brooch. Sean had no idea where Mercury had gotten that armor he was wearing. He’d been naked in the stasis pod and they certainly hadn’t had anything like that on board the small shuttle. The cuffs and shackles binding him, however, were standard police-issue. Probably a set Rodney had carried onboard.
“Nothing to say?” Mercury offered a pronounced pout.
“H-how did I get here?” Sean’s throat felt like he’d swallowed steel wool and followed it with a hydrochloric acid chaser.
“Ah, that’s better. I carried you, my dear,” Mercury said. He turned back to his task of sorting out things he’d scavenged from the ship.
Sean glanced around, trying to figure out what time it was, but the thickness of the forest made it seem like twilight. “My name is Sean,” he rasped, uncomfortable with Mercury’s false affinity.
“I beg your pardon, Pretty?” Mercury turned so Sean could see his sharp profile.
“My name…it’s Sean.”
“Ah. So that’s how it’s pronounced. No, that won’t do at all. It sounds too much like ‘yawn’, and you don’t want me to find you boring, do you?” Mercury asked, glancing over his shoulder at him with a wink.
He wasn’t sure how to answer so he kept his mouth shut. It hurt too much to talk anyway.
“I’m called Mercury— although I suspect you all ready knew that. I think we should be friends, Pretty.”
Sean nearly laughed from the absurdity of this situation, but began coughing instead. Somehow, this willowy madman who’d tried to blow up a building full of people and bit the nose off of a prison physician, had carried Sean out of the ship, tied him up, and now wanted to be friends.
Mercury spun around on his bottom and frowned at him. “I hope you’re not dying.”
Sean shook his head. “Throat is dry,” he croaked.
Mercury brightened and popped up, then flounced forward, dropping to his knees beside Sean. Sean sucked in a sharp gasp; he’d just seen his entire life flash before his eyes when Mercury came at him. Instead of killing him, Mercury offered a canteen to Sean, pressing it against his lips. From the whiff he got, Sean guessed it was water and he allowed Mercury to tip some into his mouth.
It was a little warm, but brought blessed relief to his smoke-ravaged lungs. Speaking of smokes, he could seriously use one now. Of course he could use a lot of things now; all of them outside the scope of being tied up and subject to the whims of a crazy man.
“What happened to your friend?” Mercury asked in a voice that might have sounded like seduction coming from anyone else. It had the effect of chilling, rather than heating, Sean’s blood.
He assumed he was asking about Rodney. “That guy wasn’t my friend. He was trying to kill me.” Sean stared hard at the small chest emblem on the armor that Mercury was wearing. It matched the one on the shoulder, but was not a police or military insignia from anyplace he’d ever seen. When he raised his gaze, Mercury was staring pointedly at him, watching him study the mark.
“Do you know this, Pretty?” That voice again, only worse this time, because it was softer and subtly mocking.
Sean swallowed the lump of lead in this throat, caught in the web of those bizarre black starbursts in Mercury’s amethyst-colored eyes. “I—no. I mean, it looks familiar, but no; I have no id
ea what it is.”
“Hm,” Mercury hummed as he rose and turned on his heel.
Sean let out a slow breath. To look at Mercury, there was no way to reconcile the physical strength he possessed. He resembled an emaciated runway model; six-foot three, and maybe 150 pounds fully clothed and dripping wet. Sean, on the other hand, was six-one and had close to sixty pounds of muscle on the guy. Of course, the longer they were stuck out here, the more weight they would both lose. There had been some MREs in the ship, but only about enough for a week split between two men—assuming that Mercury had thought to bring them. Sean had to assume that when they didn’t reach Amara, somebody would put out the word and come looking. Law enforcement and the judiciary were not in the habit of letting murderers go free because they couldn’t find them.
He’d been to Terra Huygen a few times, many years ago now: once on military maneuvers, and later as a cop, investigating one of the abandoned mines that proved to be a drug stash.
As far as civilization was concerned, there were a few space ports in the deserts and probably some small developing or abandoned settlements. Depending on where the shuttle had crashed down, it could be hours or days before they reached a place where they could replenish their supplies.
“You’re a police officer?” Mercury asked without turning around.
“Sergeant, yeah.” Sean wondered if Mercury was expecting an apology by the way he stared at him from over his shoulder. The man who’d betrayed him was an undercover cop, after all, and perhaps Mercury might feel the need for some vengeance. That might be why he’d taken him out of the burning ship. If that was the case, Sean guessed he was in for a world of pain.
“Who is this?” Mercury asked, abruptly changing subjects. He held out a creased photo Sean recognized from his wallet. It was the picture he and Evan had taken the last time he could truly say they were in love. On vacation two years ago on Vega-Seven; the violet rings of one of Vega’s two moons were behind them, as they sat together on the private balcony of their hotel suite. Evan’s blond hair was wet from a midnight swim, and it framed his face in little ringlets. Sean was sitting behind him on a chaise they shared, his arms wrapped around him and chin resting on his shoulder. They looked like what they were: two people in love with each other. Sean berated himself silently for not having the guts to have thrown the thing away.
Mercury raised an eyebrow as Sean fought to formulate an answer and hold back the bile that had risen in his throat.
“It’s...my ex.” Sean finally managed to get the words out.
Mercury raised the picture closer to his face now, scrutinizing it with an expression like determination.
Sean really, really didn’t want to talk about this—and even less so with a man who was as unstable as ozone. He decided to take a chance on changing the subject, in the hope that Mercury would follow suit.
“So who’s after you?”
Mercury again came closer and crouched in front of Sean. So close that he could see every lavender freckle on his pale face.
“Rose Red Flutterby broke her sister’s favorite fairy wand. When asked, Rose Red said she did not know how it was broken.”
Sean could feel some intense energy like static electricity when Mercury leaned closer, until they were practically nose to nose. His hand cradled the back of Sean’s head, the long, thin fingers running through the short strands of hair.
“She pretended to be just...as...surprised...” Mercury’s breath was hot on Sean’s lips as he said each word with a breathy pause. “...as the rest of them.”
His heart hammered against his ribs as his body hovered precariously between arousal and terror. For a moment, he was certain that Mercury was going to kiss him, then the fingers tightened against his scalp, pulling his short hair hard enough to bring tears to his eyes.
“Rose Red Flutterby was a lying bitch,” Mercury growled, going from sexy to scary in the span of one elevated heartbeat.
“She was,” Sean croaked.
The grip on his scalp loosened and Mercury drew back. His mouth was slack and eyes were wide with surprise. He began to nod emphatically.
“You’re right, Pretty...you’re so right. Why couldn’t they see it? How could her sister ever trust her again?”
Sean’s brain skipped around, trying to find some moral message from the bullshit fairy flower story that might sound meaningful to a nut-bag like Mercury. “She might have loved her enough to forgive her, but it would be foolish to forget the lie.” Sean closed his eyes, trying to keep himself calm and hoping he’d said the right thing, or at least something that wouldn’t get him stabbed. Mercury’s cool hand pressing against the side of his face startled him and he sucked in a noisy breath.
“Did he lie to you?”
Sean shook his head, assuming—hoping—he meant Evan. “No.”
“Did you lie to him?”
“No.” Sean felt like he was sliding on his belly across a plane of shattered glass. One wrong move and he’d fall through, ending up on the floor cut to ribbons.
“That’s gooood,” Mercury drew out the word. His fingers lightly caressed Sean’s cheek, those eyes dropping to gaze at his lips briefly. “You won’t lie to me, will you, Pretty?”
Sean shook his head slowly, “I hope not.” He was too stunned to look away.
“I hope not too. I hope all policemen aren’t liars.” His fingers moved to Sean’s temple, petting his hair as his violet eyes flicked over every detail of his face. “Did you know him? The policeman who lied to me and ruined my party?” Mercury’s hand stilled but Sean could feel the tension in his fingers and expected he’d rip out a chunk of his scalp if Sean said the wrong thing.
“Officer Craig, you mean? Yes, I know him.”
“He’s not dead then?”
Sean gave a small shake of his head, holding Mercury’s gaze.
“Was he a friend of yours?” His voice had taken on a melodic quality, like he was reciting a poem, or chanting a hex.
Sean swallowed hard and shook his head again. “No. Couldn’t stand the guy.” Craig was one of those cops who believed he had every criminal figured out. When other cops got injured or killed in the line of duty, he blamed them for not being good enough, aware enough. While it wasn’t appropriate for Sean to feel good about Craig getting his face busted up by a criminal he claimed to know so much about, Sean had felt a small sense of karmic satisfaction.
A wide smile brightened Mercury’s face and he took in a deep, satisfied breath. “I believe you’re telling me the truth, Pretty. Honesty. What more do we need to become the best of friends?”
8
Even though Sean had no idea what time it was, it felt like hours had passed. Mercury seemed to be wavering between vigilance and ambivalence as he moved around their little campsite. He alternated between humming and sorting through whatever things he’d brought with him from the ship, to standing dead still, his head cocked towards the trees. It was getting darker and the temperature was going down as the three suns of Terra Huygen settled below the landscape. Although Mercury appeared unaffected by the bite in the air, Sean was freezing. The constant bursts of depleting adrenaline had bled out of his system and he felt like he’d just crawled out of a cold lake in February onto a frozen shore. The light was all ready fading, hazy with humidity from the plant life and tinted green. In a few hours, it would become too dark to see anything, and Mercury showed no intention of starting a fire. To do so, Sean understood, could alert anyone who might be looking for him. Sean thought if he were being hunted by everyone in the galaxy, he’d probably be trying to put a lot more distance between himself and the downed shuttle, but they hadn’t budged.
He wondered if Mercury saw him as some sort of a bargaining chip, though it was naive to think that anyone would negotiate with a fugitive like him in order to save one unremarkable life.
Sean drew up his knees and dropped his head, hoping maybe he could sleep to get this night over with. He wasn’t really tired, he was just ho
ping by being unconscious he would forget about the cold and his situation. On top of everything else, he was dismayed to learn he had apparently given up smoking. Mercury had dissected his cigarettes while he’d been unconscious. The paper had been unrolled and folded into tiny origami crickets, and the tobacco made into little pill-sized ovals, glued together with Mercury’s spit...or something.
As he was trying to keep his teeth from chattering, a warm blanket was draped over his shoulders from behind, startling him. Sean looked up, meeting Mercury’s gaze as he moved past him.
“T-thank you.”
Mercury blinked a few times and opened his mouth, but closed it without saying anything. He straightened his spine and returned to whatever task he’d been doing before.
Sean glanced over at his cigarette case lying near his wallet. He doubted sleep was going to come tonight. What he wouldn’t give for a smoke. It was part of his nighttime ritual that, like the rest of his life, had been disrupted. “So do you have a plan?” he asked as Mercury brought over a silver MRE pouch.
“Avoiding capture seems to be the plan at the moment. Why, Pretty, you have a better idea?” Mercury tore open the top of the bag with his sharp teeth and offered it to Sean.
Although Sean always thought that these pureed chef’s nightmares were like eating pre-digested versions of whatever they were purported to be, to waste such a precious resource now would be foolish. Who knew how long it might be before a friendly search party found them, or they managed to reach a settlement or a space port? With some hesitation, he let Mercury press the packet to his lips and squeeze in some of the contents. It might have been oatmeal, and that was much better than something like creamed Salisbury steak and peas. He leaned back once he’d had enough, finding that his stomach wasn’t quite ready to start digestion as the oatmeal sat in a hardening lump.