“Sima!” yelled Austin, as the boys ran in from the left.
With a startled hiss, the large cat jumped to the side and whipped its tail in the boys’ direction. Austin dove to the ground while Juan stood stock still, stunned in fear at the sight of the big cat. The instant the animal’s attention shifted to her boys, Sima sprang at it. Rage and desperation drove the axe into the side of its neck, spraying her with hot, pearlescent-blue blood. The creature let off a belabored moan, backpedaled, and collapsed. Sima’s wounded leg shuddered and gave out, leaving her on her butt next to Lissa.
Austin charged, emitting a war cry as he raised his weapon.
“Austin, no!” yelled Sima. “Stay back!”
The cat sprang to its feet, roaring with enough force to flutter the boy’s hair despite the blood gushing from its neck. He stopped well out of its reach, though he made a show of chopping at the air. A soft thump came from behind; the weight of the backpack had pulled Juan over like a plank. Another strangled moan escaped the beast’s throat as it struggled to keep its head up. It fell in place, let out a great, raspy huff, and went still.
“Juan!” Sima burst into tears, but got control of herself in a few seconds. “Austin, get Juan.”
She spun around, putting a hand on Lissa’s cheek. “Lissa, honey, wake up. Open your eyes.”
The girl let out a soft moan. Tooth marks across her chest and thighs oozed blood. A fang had punctured her left bicep, but appeared to have missed the bone.
Austin dragged Juan over; the boy stared at the sky, as still as a corpse. A silvery eight-inch quill stuck out of his chest. Sima wanted to scream, but calmed herself when she realized he hadn’t stopped breathing.
“Give me the first aid kit.” Sima dropped the axe and gathered Lissa in her lap.
Austin rummaged the backpack, tossing fruits out of the way until he found the silver case. Sima set it down and opened it, looking at a myriad of handheld gadgets. Not recognizing any of them other than the egg, she held her arm up.
“Which one do I use? Dammit, tell me!”
‹The egg is the best option.›
Sima grabbed it, crying from fear as well as the pain in her thigh. She pointed the tip at the biggest hole in Lissa’s chest and squeezed the button. Orange energy saturated the area, and the wound shrank closed in under a minute, like acid eating flesh in reverse. Sima worked as fast as her shaking hands would allow, sealing all the bleeding tooth marks on the little girl’s body, until the machine did nothing when she squeezed it.
That Lissa showed no reaction at all to what had to be agonizing pain terrified her. The shallow claw wounds Sima had suffered on her shoulder days ago hurt like hell.
“Liss?”
The girl appeared to have passed out.
‹Take the third device on the left in the top row. Push the yellow button, then press it against her arm. When it chirps, press it against her thigh or rear end.›
Sima fished the cylinder out from the packing foam. It looked like a giant pressure hypodermic, similar to the ones the doctors used on her before they sent her up here. The side had two buttons, one yellow, one orange. She pushed the yellow one, then pressed the thing to Lissa’s shoulder as if giving her a vaccination. Seconds later, it chirped. Sima pressed it down again onto the girl’s thigh. The device emitted a hiss, exactly as the injectors had done back on Earth.
“What am I doing to her?”
‹The first touch drew one droplet of blood to analyze for type. The second injected a medium that will help replace some of the blood she lost.›
“Oh.”
Sima put that thing back in the case and aimed the egg at her shredded thigh. Clenching her jaw, she pushed the button. Blinding pain swept over her, burning like a flamethrower. She screamed and dropped the device, clutching the oozing wound.
“It hurts a lot,” muttered a delirious Lissa before she coughed up blood.
Sima retrieved the egg, gritted her teeth, and activated it again, stifling a howl of agony as her flesh regenerated. When the device ran out of wound to close and the pain stopped, she fell over sideways, clutching her thigh and gasping agonized sobs. Austin knelt nearby, rubbing her back. She grabbed his hand and squeezed. Fear lurked in his eyes, but he put on a brave face.
“You killed a tiger with an axe.” He smiled, despite tears rolling down his face. “You’re the best mom.”
She choked up.
When the pain faded enough for her to move again, Sima crawled over to Juan. The quill stuck in his right breast, close to the armpit. His breaths came in shallow, slow sips, and his eyes remained unfocused. Sima pulled the quill out, threw it to the side, and sucked at the tiny puncture wound.
The bracelet buzzed.
A trickle of blood filled her mouth as well as an alien, sour taste. Her tongue and the inside of her mouth tingled and went numb. She spat, sucked again, spat, sucked again, and spat.
“Brafemet, whaf if thif?”
‹That is a myth. Sucking at an envenomed wound will not help.›
Lissa smiled.
Austin snickered.
The screen blanked and retyped. ‹Unknown request.›
“She wants to know what happened to Juan,” said Austin.
Scanning lasers swept over the boy. A moment later, the screen cleared again. ‹Paralytic toxin. Undetermined effect on autonomic respiration. Dosage level relative to subject body mass may cause cessation of breathing. Suggest constant monitoring and CPR if breathing ceases.›
“Umm, nmm.” Sima cradled him in her lap. Already, his skin felt cold. She spat a few times to the side and spoke slow, forcing clumsy words around her deadened tongue and lips. “Juan, you hear me? Don’t give up. Keep breathing.”
The boy didn’t react.
31
Final Stand
Lissa lay sprawled on her back, gasping air in rapid, small sips. Juan may as well have been a clothing store mannequin. Austin knelt beside Sima, clutching his axe while scanning the jungle.
She looked at the two smallest kids, neither one of them in any shape for a long walk. Continuing to their destination or hiking the several miles it would take them to get home both sounded like bad options.
We can’t travel like this. Dammit, what was I thinking walking twenty-five miles? We’re going to be stuck outside at night. Please be the only cat in the area. The Night Scratch had a pink nose… this is a different one. What’s it doing outside in the day?
She tried to remember the one that treed Austin. It had been significantly larger than this cat, so perhaps males and females grew to different sizes, or the one she killed hadn’t been full-grown. Please don’t be any more around here.
Neither Juan nor Lissa could walk. Going home couldn’t happen, so she looked around for somewhere that might potentially offer any form of shelter. The trees in this part of the jungle all had dome-like roots between the trunk and the ground, reminding her of the area where her lifeboat landed. About forty meters away, a root cluster as big as their escape pod offered hope of concealment.
“Can you carry Lissa?” Sima looked at Austin.
“Yeah… she’s a twig.” Austin gathered the fruits into the backpack, added the first aid kit, and shrugged the pack on.
“Don’t go,” whispered Lissa.
“I’m right here, honey.” Sima squeezed her hand. “We’re staying together. Just need to move a little ways.”
She forced herself to stand despite the burning pain lurking beneath the skin of her thigh, and picked Juan up.
Austin stooped toward Lissa, but hesitated when the pack shifted. He set the backpack down, then scooped Lissa into his arms. “I can’t carry the pack and Lissa.”
“It’s okay. I’ll run back for it,” said Sima. “We’re not going far.”
The bracelet thrummed with a series of pulsing vibrations, the thin metal heating up.
Even the Omnicomputer is scared… it’s trembling. “I know… I know.”
The girl squirmed. �
��I can walk.”
“You might be hurt inside,” said Sima.
“I want you to carry me.” Lissa whined.
“I got Juan. I can’t”—Sima sighed and stooped—“Okay. Can you hold onto my back?”
Austin didn’t let her go, continuing to haul the child forward. “Come on. Don’t be a baby. It’s not far.”
Lissa wailed the whole walk to the base of the tree. The ovoid mass of roots, some as thick as Sima’s waist, created an igloo-like hollow beneath a trunk easily seven feet in diameter. Austin ducked and carried Lissa inside before easing her down upon soft dirt. Sima scooted in after and placed Juan next to her. She limped back to the opening, but Austin grabbed her.
“You’re leg’s hurt. I’ll get it.”
She pushed him back inside. “No. You’re a kid. Stay here where it’s safe.”
“I’ll be back before you even get to the backpack.” Austin stared up into her eyes and flashed a roguish smile. “I’m good at running.”
Tears streaming down her cheeks, Sima pulled him close and kissed him on top of the head. “Okay. Please be fast.”
He nodded, and darted out.
Sima flopped down to sit beside Juan and Lissa, then gazed around at the place she hoped to take shelter. Walls of entwined roots had thousands of gaps, though only two looked large enough for one of the cats to squeeze through. She tugged Juan into her lap. Lissa curled up at her side, thumb in her mouth.
Barely two minutes later, Austin wriggled through the root wall with the backpack. He sighed, shaking his head. “We’re going to get stuck out at night.”
Sima rubbed her leg. I’m not walking any long distances for a while. Juan needs constant watching. “Yeah. We killed the Night Scratch. We’ll be fine. Stay quiet. First couple days we were here, we slept outside at night, no problem, right?”
Austin shot her a dubious glance, looked at Lissa, and sat without saying anything.
Rainfall came within an hour, though their shelter proved watertight enough. At the first rumble of thunder and fingers of violet, horizontal lightning overhead, Lissa shrugged off her stupor and erupted with tears. She tried to crawl into Sima’s side.
“Make it stop!” she wailed.
“It’s just a storm.” Sima kissed her atop the head. “It can’t get us in here.”
Lissa twitched with every thunderclap, whimpering at the tame ones and scared mute whenever a louder blast shook the forest. Over the next few hours, Sima kept her hand on Juan’s chest, monitoring his breathing. Twice, she got scared enough to lay him on the ground and give mouth-to-mouth.
Rain-scented wind filtered past the lattice of roots, chilling them to the point of shivering. Sima held Juan as close to her body as she could to keep him warm. Lissa crawled into her lap as well, so she cradled them together. Four hours and nine minutes (according to the bracelet’s clock) after the quill hit him, the boy moved his eyes toward her.
“Yes!” Sima rubbed his chest, arms, and legs. “Stay warm. Keep breathing. You’re going to be okay.”
“It’s dark,” whispered Lissa. “The Night Scratch can get us.” An eerie calm settled on her face. “I don’t want a cat to eat me. If they come for us, will you please kill me?”
“No!” Sima yelled without intending to. “I… No. We’re not going to die. And I’m not gonna kill you. I won’t even spank you if you’re bad.”
“Even if I lose my pants after you tell me not to?” asked Lissa with a big grin.
“I’d never hurt you. Any of you.” Sima sniffled.
Austin, his face wet with quiet tears, picked his axe up. “There’s only one spot they can fit, and they gotta crawl in. I can get ’em in the head.”
Juan wheezed and twitched his foot.
“It’s dinner time,” said Sima. “Eat.”
“I’m not hungry.” Lissa’s teeth chattered. “I’m cold.”
“You need to eat. You need strength.” Sima handed her one of the chicken slabs. “Eat it.”
“Why?” She frowned. “We’re not going to live. The cat bit me bad. I’m gonna die.”
“Stop.” Sima grabbed the slight girl by her shoulder and gave her a firm shake. “Don’t give up. Stop talking like that.”
“Austin’s right. I thought the cops wanted to help us, but they sent us here ’cause we’re garbage.” Lissa held the chicken to her mouth and nibbled.
“You’re not garbage.” Sima kissed her atop the head, sniffling.
Austin shook his head. “The ship had an accident, right?”
“What kind of idiot sends kids across the galaxy to an untamed planet?” Sima muttered a string of bad words that made the kids gasp.
“Juan’s getting better. Let’s go to the arrow,” said Austin.
“Not now.” Lissa whined. “It’s still nine miles away, and it’s dark. The scratches will get us.”
“We need to stay somewhere like this where we can protect ourselves,” said Sima. “We’ll get moving as soon as the sun comes up.”
They huddled together for a while in silence, all staring out into the pitch-black beyond the roots. The rain stopped, though the occasional gust of wind pushed water into the shelter. Lissa’s breathing once again wheezed with dangerous volume. Her skin faded even paler than usual.
Snap.
Lissa’s hands, with half of her chicken, sank into her lap. She stared out at the dark, mouth agape.
“Finish your dinner.” Sima set Juan down beside Austin and picked up her axe. “Keep him warm. Make sure he keeps breathing.”
The bracelet vibrated again in three quick pulses. Sima found herself patting it as if to comfort a terrified friend.
More snapping came from the darkness. The sound made her imagine an entire pack of those cats coming to avenge their fallen brother. Sima caressed Lissa’s cheek, but the girl kept trembling. She stroked Juan’s head, grinning when he smiled. Austin gave her a knowing look, and tolerated another ruffle of his hair. Lissa leaned into her, crying.
“Thanks for trying,” whispered Austin.
Sima set Lissa next to Juan. “Stay there. Those cats can only get in at two places, and I’m not going to let them.” She dragged herself closer to the large opening, staring into the dark at the rustling of movement. “Come on you furry bastards!” she yelled, raising the axe. “Come and get it. I’ll kill you all. You’re not gonna touch them. You’re not gonna touch my kids!”
32
Not Without a Fight
Snapping and crunching grew louder. Sima’s knuckles whitened. There had to be at least ten quill cats out there, but it didn’t matter.
Only one of them could fit in the gap at a time, unless they had the strength to rip through the roots anywhere they wanted. A droplet of urine ran down the inside of her thigh as her whole body shook with dread. If she’d finally arrived at the moment her life would end, she would go down fighting. It didn’t matter if two or twenty quill cats came out of the shadows, she’d hold that hole in the roots, even if it killed her to keep them away from the kids.
I won’t let them hurt my children.
“Come on, bastards! Where are you? Come get it!”
Lissa bawled and struggled to run to her, but Austin held her down.
A cluster of luminous red dots appeared on Sima’s chest, flashing off the roots and swarming like fireflies between her breasts.
“Check your target, Winters,” said a woman’s voice, crackling with static. “It’s a kid with a utility axe. We found ’em.”
Ten one-inch rectangular lights winked on in a line, mounted to the side of armored helmets. Six men and four women—humans—advanced out of the trees with rifles raised.
“Easy, kid. Put that thing down,” said the closest man. “No one’s going to hurt you.”
“Are you really there?” Sima blinked.
“You still with us, kid?” The woman who first spoke stepped forward. “Been alone for a couple weeks?”
Sima lowered the axe, but kept shaking. “Yeah.
Our lifeboats ejected. Are you from the Progenitor too?”
The soldiers slung their rifles. Austin released Lissa who limped over to Sima and attempted giggling and sobbing at the same time.
A man with the name ‘Winters’ stenciled on his pixel-camo armor glanced in the direction of the dead cat before flipping his visor up. He looked older, forties perhaps, with a trace of grey in his moustache. He peered past Sima at the kids.
“Four? Mike, get up here. One of ’em looks hurt. Evie, take Wharton and Cook and give me perimeter security.”
One woman and two men hustled off in three different directions.
A man with red crosses on both shoulders approached. Sima crawled forward out of the big gap and struggled to stand, stumbling into Winters’ arms. She lost a minute crying with relief. Lissa crawled up behind her, content to remain on all fours—or too weak to get up. Austin dragged Juan out next, stood, and stared at the adults with platter eyes.
Winters looked her over. “How old are you, kid? Hey, Kilgore, let’s have some blankets up front pronto. These kids have been in stuck their skivvies for a month.”
“Her beacon said she was sixteen,” replied the woman.
“My beacon?” Sima sniffled.
One of the men jogged out of sight into the trees. Soon after, he returned with an armload of grey blankets. Sima accepted one and draped it around herself. It felt like forever ago that she’d had fabric covering so much of her body. She whimpered in delight and clutched the blanket closed.
The woman opened her visor, revealing a face the same brown as Juan, a bit lighter than Sima. Her armor bore the name Ruiz. “Your Omni’s been transmitting a distress beacon ever since we got our main communications array back online. That’s how we found you.”
The holo panel flickered into existence above her arm. ‹U R welcome.› After a pause, it added, ‹Still want to take me off?›
Sima hugged her wrist to her chest, crying tears of joy. “No way. Why didn’t you tell me you called for help?”
Out of Sight (Progenitor Book 1) Page 33