by Lea Linnett
“Prison would be a vacation for him with his connections. He deserves far worse.”
“And he’ll get it, if he’s as bad as you say. He’d have tons of enemies!” She leaned forward. “You’re free of him now. You got out! Why go back there?”
Kormak’s eyes sliced to hers. “Because someone has to make him suffer for what he’s done. He can’t be allowed to hurt anyone else.”
“But you said you’d die if you went back there!”
The levekk remained silent, but his claws tightened around the arms of his chair, fraying the fabric.
“Kormak?”
“…Might as well be me, the monster he created, rather than someone else.”
Lena blanched, shaking her head in dismay. “What are you even talking about? From what you told me, you were as much a victim of his as anybody else—”
“I was an accomplice,” the levekk bit out. “I let people down, Lena. This is my chance to fix it.”
“But why you?”
“Because I don’t have anything else!” he said, his voice rising. “I don’t have a family—not like you. And whatever family I was making with my crew? Malcolm took that away from me. There’s no one left!”
“That’s not true,” she blurted, before biting her tongue. The alien was frowning at her, but she swallowed back her fear, rising to her feet and crossing over to him. “Come with us,” she said, clasping his hand in both of hers. “With me and Ellie. I heard Brando. He could get all three of us off this planet if you asked.”
“Lena…”
“Please.” She ran one hand down his arm until it came to rest on his chest. She could feel his heartbeat beneath her fingertips, and it was thundering. “We could start again, just the three of us. We could make something. A future.”
She moved to press herself closer, but felt a hand land gently on her stomach, pushing her away.
“Lena, I… I can’t. You know I can’t,” Kormak said, and his voice was apologetic, but firm.
The levekk rose slowly to his feet, and Lena felt a chill run up her spine as she was forced to step away from him, the connection between them breaking. “Why?”
Kormak met her gaze, but his blue-green eyes remained closed-off. “I appreciate what you’ve done for me, Lena, but…” He paused, changing tack. “This was fun, what we had. You were… a good companion on the road. But that doesn’t change anything. We both have things to settle here in New Chicago.”
Lena’s heart sank, and in its place rose a cold, icy panic. “Kormak, no…”
“I’m sorry,” he added. He leaned away from her, bringing up a hand to massage at his neck. “We’ve had… a pretty crazy week. But you should forget about me. Your sister’s more important right now. Don’t you remember?”
Lena flinched, stung by the accusation. Of course she remembered. She’d never stopped trying to get back to her sister.
“Don’t do this,” she said, hating how small her voice had become.
He stared at her for a long moment, and Lena could have sworn something in his impenetrable facade twitched. But the shutters soon came down again, and there were no more cracks for her to grip onto.
She stepped forward, almost desperately.
“If… If you’re determined to go.” She paused, looking up into his eyes. “We might as well make it a memorable goodbye…” She toyed with the zipper on his jacket, making her intentions clear.
Her entire body tensed when a large hand covered hers, stilling her fingers.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Lena.”
She recoiled as if she’d been struck, backing up until her thighs touched the bed. She got one look at Kormak’s pitying expression before her gaze glued itself to the floor. “I-I’m sorry,” she said, barely above a whisper.
Her face turned red. Shame rumbled through her chest, sending hot and cold chills down to the tips of her fingers and toes. Excuses danced on the tip of her tongue but she couldn’t make them spill over.
“Lena…” Kormak’s voice was strained as he stepped towards her, but Lena couldn’t bear his scrutiny.
Shaking her head, she snatched up her backpack from the floor and rushed to the bathroom again, slamming the door behind her.
She leaned back against the wood, her heart hammering as the backpack fell from her fingers to the tiled floor. She took a moment to breathe, but her inhalations were stuttering and panicked.
She dropped to a crouch, wrenching the bag open in search of the extra set of underwear she’d stolen from a washing line earlier.
Her blood pounded in her ears, her teeth chattering. It felt as if her heart had been snapped clean in two, the two halves beating in counterpoint and wrenching her chest this way and that with their force.
Who was she to think that she’d be enough to change his mind? All they’d had were a couple of tumbles in the dirt in a forest, when it came down to it. That would never be enough to turn his heart from its path.
Why would Kormak give up the one thing that had kept him going on this journey for her?
She was just a human, after all.
She paused with her hand still buried in the backpack, something rough brushing her fingers. Mud caked the sides, inside and out, and at the bottom sat a hunk of wood, the edges splintered. On closer inspection, it was her fire-making supplies.
It felt positively anachronistic, looking down at what amounted to Stone Age tools while she sat in a modern bathroom with a fluorescent light bulb blinking above her head and running water in the sink beside her. The journey across the countryside was seeming more and more like a dream, along with the closeness her and Kormak had shared during it.
She clenched her eyes shut as she disrobed and stepped into the shower, turning the heat up until it scorched. Despite the flush of embarrassment on her cheeks, the rest of her felt cold, her skin shivering while her insides squirmed.
She had to get a grip, she told herself, scrubbing the days of travel from her skin. Of course she’d felt close to Kormak; he was the only thing she had out in the wilderness. With nobody else to talk to for days on end, it made sense that they would connect.
Even physically, she would have had to be crazy or celibate to not notice how attractive he was. And for Kormak, maybe she was just in the right place at the right time—one final diversion before the end.
She put her head beneath the stream of water, letting it rush around her ears and block out the world.
It had been fun. Despite his words, she was still fond of Kormak. If their lives weren’t pulling them in different directions, maybe they could have been friends.
In the end, they were just two lonely people finding comfort in each other under extreme circumstances. Yes, that was it. The puzzle pieces came together before Lena’s eyes, and she felt her heart settle slightly.
This wasn’t love. She’d never even once called it love.
…So then why did she feel so empty?
She hid her tears in the water, burying her face in her hands.
Kormak had done her a favor, really. It was better to know where they stood now, than to wonder for the rest of her life what could have been.
She repeated this to herself as she exited the shower and dressed. When she cracked open the bathroom door, she found the light had been turned off, and Kormak lay on the carpet, cradling the cushion from the chair as a pillow.
She stepped around him, relieved that he hadn’t stayed awake to try and continue the argument. There wasn’t really anything left to say.
She crawled into the lumpy bed and turned away, squeezing her eyes shut. She willed sleep to come and take her quickly.
It didn’t.
---
Kormak lay on the scratchy carpet, listening to Lena’s soft breathing. There was a hitch in it every so often, one that he wasn’t sure even she noticed, and it made his heart ache.
It was his fault. He’d hurt her. Again.
He wanted so much to go to her, to run his hands alo
ng her shoulders and pull her to his chest. He would curl around her, kissing her hair until her tears dried up and her heartbeat slowed to match his own.
He wanted to tell her he was sorry. That he would go with her. Every fiber of his being told him he was making a mistake; he should leave Malcolm in the dust where he belonged and follow Lena to the stars. But he couldn’t have that now. He knew what he had to do, and it pulled him down like a stone that would happily drown him.
He soothed himself with knowing that she would bounce back. Her care for him didn’t run so deep that she’d be unable to recover. Once she found her sister, the dent in her heart would be filled up tenfold, and she’d be distracted by new adventures. If he went with them, he’d only attract danger. Just as he’d always done.
He’d worried, in the back of his mind, that he was repeating the same mistakes. That Lena would be another Malcolm leading him to ruin. But he knew now that she wasn’t. She was nothing like Malcolm; she was good, and kind, and caring, and bright.
And Kormak would never be good enough for her. He didn’t deserve her light or her warmth, or whatever starlit future she’d envisioned for them. He’d stopped deserving it the moment his father gave up on him, and he deserved it less and less the longer he stayed under Malcolm’s employ. All he could do now was see his mistakes through to their end, and take the biggest one of all to the grave alongside him.
He’d never have to hurt anyone ever again—be it by his own hand or from failing to protect them, like the human women Malcolm rented to the highest bidder or the small crew that he allowed to be sent to their deaths. He would no longer have to fight to stay alive, a constant in his life even before Malcolm.
He wouldn’t let anyone down again, as he had his father.
No, better to get it over with. He was tired. Killing Malcolm would bring everything full circle. He could avenge all the people who’d been hurt, and stop any more from being brought into Malcolm’s orbit.
And his death ensured that he’d never have to watch his inevitable rot spread to Lena.
Even knowing this, it had been so difficult to not give in to her. He wanted to take back every cruel word he’d said to her earlier and smooth every pained crease from her skin. It scared him slightly, how intense the desire to console her was when they’d barely known each other a week.
But he had to push all that away.
Lena didn’t need to be with someone who couldn’t see a future beyond his fist crushing some human’s head.
Lena dreamed of supporting her sister, of maybe seeing the stars up close with her tiny family at her side.
She deserved someone who could take her there. Not someone who would inevitably pull her down into the seedy depths they’d just managed to crawl out of.
So as she stirred and shifted uneasily on the bed, he forced himself to say goodbye.
He said goodbye to her guarded smile, and her unguarded laughter. He said goodbye to the memory of her gold-tipped fingers running across his back. He remembered the heat of her pressing against him, and said goodbye to her flushed pink skin and her stormy blue eyes.
He said goodbye to her offering him human food by the fire, to her laughing at his jokes and making him laugh in return. He said goodbye to her following in his footsteps, a warm presence at his back, hot on his heels as he crossed deserts and plains and forests alike.
He said goodbye, and drifted slowly off to an uneven sleep.
22
Their farewell was a quiet affair.
They woke early the next morning, both rousing from fitful sleeps that left them less than well-rested, despite the comparable comfort of having a roof over their heads and pillows under them.
They didn’t stop for breakfast. Instead, they left the room behind almost untouched and went downstairs to drop off their keys at the front counter. With her head clearer, the hotel didn’t look as rundown or foreboding as it had the night before. It still wasn’t fancy by any means, but it was less nightmarish.
They walked out of the Sheneth Quarter together, a respectable distance between them. They didn’t speak.
On the outskirts of the Quarter, they paused. This was where they would part—Kormak heading east, Lena heading south. He probably wouldn’t make it into the city before nightfall, even if he hitched a ride. Lena could make it to her home district by sunset, if she walked quickly.
They stood at a quiet street corner, their paths stretching out in different directions. Lena pulled the strap of her almost-empty backpack a little higher on her shoulder, eyes settled somewhere around the level of Kormak’s collarbone. Kormak stood still and silent, eyes downcast.
“Good luck,” she said, eyes cautiously meeting his. “If you don’t die, come visit. Look for Augusta’s Clothier’s, down in the Rockford Tract.”
Her tone was deceptively light, but she saw the slight relaxation of his shoulders at hearing it and smiled, more genuinely now.
He glanced up at her, holding out a piece of paper. “Here are Brando’s contact details. I grabbed them last night.” She took the paper, stuffing it into her pocket. “Think about taking his offer.”
“Okay.”
Kormak’s hand was tensing into a fist and relaxing again at his side, over and over, but neither of them moved to touch each other. There were no hugs or handshakes, even if Lena’s body was screaming at her to jump forward and pull him close.
Instead, they smiled politely at each other, and Lena was saved from having to break the silence herself by Kormak.
“It was fun.”
The bottom of Lena’s stomach dropped clean through as the words echoed from last night.
His tone sounded genuine, but she could hear the dismissal in it. Suddenly, it was crystal clear that that’s all she’d ever been to him. A bit of fun. Unimportant.
She gulped back whatever was trying to rise in her chest, willing herself to take the words at face value. Because it had been fun. In fact, she didn’t think she’d ever felt as alive as she had on that first night, when she followed the huge levekk out of Iso.
“Yeah. Don’t think I would have made it here without you,” she said, smiling.
“Same to you.”
“And thanks for the sneakers.”
She tapped the shoes against the sidewalk, surprising a laugh from Kormak, but his expression soon settled. Silence swirled around them, thick and heavy and immensely uncomfortable.
“See you around,” she finally managed, and Kormak seemed relieved to be able to nod and step back, breaking the last little connection holding them together.
Lena felt as if her heart might actually be breaking as he lifted a hand in farewell and turned away. Which was ridiculous, she told herself. What they’d shared was a daring escape attempt and a small adventure. Any dalliance on the side had been to relieve tensions, at best.
She’d made a friend, not a lover.
And that’s why she was sad, she insisted, watching his back retreat into the darkness of an alley. She’d made a friend who, despite his quiet and his intensity, was someone she could effortlessly while away the hours with. Who she could laugh with. Who would watch her build a fire and act like it was a skill actually worth knowing—worth learning from her, even.
No wonder she was sad.
Lena turned away when tears started to well up in her eyes, her hand coming up to thump at her chest and her throat clearing.
This was… for the best. Now, she could go home and find Ellie, and focus on being a big sister again. She couldn’t protect everyone, but she could protect her.
She tried to breathe past the lump in her throat, ignoring the little voice in her head that said there might now be one more person in the world she wanted to save as much as she did Ellie.
Steeling herself, she stepped off the curb, striding away to the south and her home district of Rockford.
23
Later, as she watched the orange tang of sunset wash over the low buildings and patchwork roads of her home distr
ict, nervousness raked through Lena’s veins. Every face that turned her way was potentially someone who could recognize her—the little human who got bundled off to prison and then escaped. But Rockford was a bustling place, packed full of faceless workers, many of whom didn’t stay long. Her close neighbors would most definitely realize who she was, but the people milling about her now? It was unlikely.
So she pressed on, walking past familiar shops and markets, and for a moment it almost felt as if she’d never been gone. Everything was exactly how she’d left it, and it comforted her. It didn’t matter that she’d hated her life and hated where she was stuck—she was home and about to see her sister and Augusta and maybe if she was careful she could soak up a few days here before it became too dangerous to stay. The streets were empty of enforcers or regular police, and a place like Rockford was never outfitted with security cameras. She’d laid low on her way here, and hadn’t been accosted once. Maybe no one cared about a human girl escaping a six-month sentence.
But beneath the warmth persisted an anxious itch. She hadn’t spoken to Ellie since a week before her escape. She had no way of knowing if her and Augusta were truly safe, or even if they were still in Rockford. Could the enforcers have taken them under the guise of questioning them about her whereabouts?
That fear propelled her onward, racing through the streets as fast as she dared, coughing only slightly from the smog that wafted down from the factories a few blocks away. She kept her eyes peeled for anyone—in uniform or plain clothes—who took too much interest in her face or her mismatched clothing.
Soon, she was standing out the front of a dull-looking clothier’s, with one single word etched into the sign fitted across the eaves: Augusta’s. The sign was old, older than Augusta, even, and not for the first time, Lena wondered if that really was her landlady’s name, or if she’d taken it up when she took over the store.
The street was deserted—void even of customers, let alone any enforcers—but she still cast her gaze around furtively, nervous about being out in the open so close to home.