Not Fade Away

by Donna S. Frelick

  He wouldn’t let her close the subject on him. “That makes you a brave woman in my book. It’s not easy to get up and get back in the fight once you’ve been knocked down a few times.”

  She lifted an eyebrow and cocked her head a little in denial. “Easier if you haven’t been knocked down for real. And I wouldn’t say I’m brave. In fact, I can be a little slow to action. Took me forever to figure out what to do last time, and I’m still not sure it was the right thing.”

  The truth finally dawned on him. “This is about Sonny Milsap, isn’t it. The sonofabitch!” The space around his heart went hollow and a tide of protectiveness surged in to fill it. Charlie was nothing but kind and warm and generous. The thought of Milsap putting his hands on her—hurting her—made him want to snap the little ptark’s neck.

  She sighed and rubbed at her forehead, as if the very idea of talking about the man brought on a headache. “He wasn’t always an asshole.”

  She was defending him? “Could have fooled me.”

  “He was different when we were together in high school,” she insisted. “Funny. Full of adventure. He even tried to do the right thing when I got pregnant in my senior year of nursing school, and married me.” She shook her head. “But he wasn’t cut out for the long haul. When I lost the baby, things got bad between us. He joined the Army and got sent overseas. By the time he got back, he was into drugs. He started running with the gang that sold them. I tried to help him, but he just got worse and worse until I had to leave him.”

  Rafe hated the sight of her crestfallen face. “I’m sorry, Charlie, about all of it. But you can’t think any of that was your fault.”

  When she looked up at him, her eyes were filled with long-held remorse. “Sonny is what he is because I abandoned him.”

  “Shalssit!” He almost clapped a hand over his stupid mouth, but stopped himself just in time. He recovered and went on, hoping she hadn’t noticed his slip. “That moron is responsible for his own choices. Don’t you believe we each have to take responsibility for the things we do?”

  “Well, yes, but—”

  “But nothing! Your only mistake is that you didn’t leave the bastard a whole lot sooner.” He was angry, but not with her. He wanted to wring Milsap’s neck.

  Charlie wouldn’t rise to the bait; she sat lost in her thoughts, grief dulling her shining spirit. Rafe wouldn’t have it.

  “I could get rid of him for you.” He waited to see her reaction.

  After a second she looked up, horrified. “What? No!”

  He grinned. “Just kidding. Though it would give me immense pleasure to rip his dumb head off.”

  She smiled.

  “You sure? I can’t tear him limb from limb?”

  “No!” She was laughing now. That was better. If he could, he would make her laugh like that every day, make her forget every bad thing that had ever happened to her.

  “Okay. I’ll leave the little ptar—uh, punk alone.” As long as he stays away from you.“He hasn’t been bothering you lately, has he?”

  A shadow crossed her face. “No. Not really.”

  “What do you mean ‘not really?’ ”

  She made a show of examining the back of her hand. “I mean ‘no,’ he hasn’t been bothering me.” Then she looked up with a smile. “Besides, Happy’s there to protect me. He can’t stand Sonny.”

  Rafe was beginning to like the dog more and more. “Happy has good taste in people.” To distract her from her memories of Sonny, he kept talking. “Where did you find that furball, anyway?”

  Her smile grew wider. “At the county pound, where all the best canine companions hang out, of course. I was a mess after Sonny; I needed a friend. Happy needed one, too. They were going to put him down if someone didn’t rescue him.”

  Rafe tried to ignore the tightness in his chest at that thought. “That doesn’t seem fair. He’s, well, he seems like . . . I don’t know.”

  “Yeah, I thought so, too,” she said, her affection for the animal warming her voice. “But he was an adult dog. Most people want puppies. And he was a little rambunctious—the shelter folks said an old man had brought him in because he couldn’t handle him.”

  “But you could,” Rafe said. “He listens to you.” It was obvious the dog adored her. There was something admirable about their relationship.

  “It didn’t take long for us to get on the same page. He’s a smart boy.”

  Rafe couldn’t help wondering what it would be like to have all that warmth turned on him. Did that mean he was jealous of a dog? And what if Happy turned out to be jealous of him? He decided to make an effort to get on the animal’s good side.

  The conversation lulled, and Charlie reached for the handwritten list of accounts the server had brought detailing the price of their meal (the “check,” he told himself). “I guess we’d better get back,” she said.

  He snatched the check from her hand. “That’s mine. Don’t think customs are that different here than in Canada.” He’d looked that up, too, only to be confused as to who paid for the meal on a date. Customs, it seemed, were in flux on that question. But he liked the idea of taking care of Charlie, so he would pay.

  “Really? Okay, thank you.” Her smile was brilliant. “I’ll get it next time.”

  Rafe said nothing, too happy about the fact she’d said there would be a next time to argue over who might get the future check. He caught the server’s eye and paid up so they could make their way through the packed tables back out to the parking lot.

  There was very little light in the rear of the lot where Charlie’s Subaru was waiting. He held out a hand to her—merely offering stability, of course—and she took it. A rush of excitement exploded into his chest. Just from holding a woman’s hand? What the hell was wrong with him? But then he knew the answer to that, didn’t he. He wasn’t holding just any woman’s hand. Charlie was different. When he held her hand it was as if his whole crazy world stopped spinning out of control and started revolving slowly around her.

  They made it to the car and separated—he to his side, she to the driver’s side. He stood for a moment looking up, trying to catch his breath. The stars hung within the infinite vault of the sky, some so close it seemed you could touch them, some so far it broke your heart. He had seen these same stars from other planets; from other skies; from the depths of space, distorted by proximity to a jump node or close up in ion drive. They never failed to impress. But from Earth, the galaxy looked both familiar and humbling at the same time.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?” Charlie was looking up from the other side of the vehicle. “It’s even better once you get away from the lights.”

  Rafe turned to look at her. Was she sending him a signal? Gods, he fervently hoped so.

  “I’d like to see that.” Charlie, under the stars. Charlie, looking up at him as he pushed deep inside her.

  She studied him for a long moment before she made up her mind. “I know a place we can go.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Sam looked up into a pair of startling green eyes. Lana—at least he thought it must be Lana, things were still blurry—smiled at him.

  “Good. You’re alive,” she said. “Rayna is only going to kill us half-dead now. Can you sit up?”

  Could he? He didn’t know that either. The pain was like a living thing, gnawing at the inside of his skull. And he was going to hurl any second.

  “You need to move,” he gritted.

  “What?”

  “Move!”

  Lana leapt aside as he rolled to his knees and vomited the contents of his stomach onto the filthy ground. He groaned, his head an agony-filled balloon.

  “We need to get him back to the ship ASAP,” Lana said.

  Who is she talking to? Oh. Yeah. Gabriel stood watch at a corner of the stilted building.

  “I’ve already called for pickup,” he said.

  “No!” Sam wanted to yell, but he could barely manage a whisper. “The girl, the server in that bar . . .” He p
ointed a shaky finger in the direction of the place he’d just come out of before . . . before . . . what the hell happened?

  He sat on his ass again and looked around. Okay. He was in that bar. He came here. He . . . fought with someone.

  “Someone hit me over the head.”

  Lana and Gabriel looked at him like the damage might be permanent. “Yes,” Lana said. “Hard. You have a bad concussion.”

  “But before that I was fighting with someone else under here,” he explained. “The woman in that bar was going to tell me something, but her boss bitched at her to get back to work.”

  “You were close,” Gabriel said, catching on. “They tipped Zouk off.”

  Sam would have nodded, but he was afraid his head would fall off his neck. “We have to go back and talk to her.”

  “Shit, she’s long gone by now, and so is the Thrane,” Lana said.

  “Yeah, we’ve lost him.” Gabriel paced between the pillors, kicking garbage out of his path. “Again.”

  Sam groaned. This was his fault. But he would have sworn the shalssiti Thrane was flat on his back when his partner—whoever it was—finished the fight. They’d been so close to getting him!

  “K’taam.” Lana looked at Gabriel and spoke the word softly—a reproach.

  Gabriel stilled and nodded at her. Then he came over to help Sam to his feet. Sam clenched his teeth against the dizzy nausea as he stood, leaning on Gabriel’s arm.

  “You’re going to Sickbay,” Lana said. “I’ll check the bar again. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

  Sam knew better than to think that, and he could see by the look on Lana’s face that she knew it, too. Luck had chosen to run with Vaalud Zouk since the beginning of this race.

  “Due diligence only, okay?” Sam told her. “We all know the veer is gone. And if he’s as smart as we think he is, he already knows where the Shadowhawk went from here. It’s time to warn Rafe.”

  Gabriel nodded, his expression grim. “Warn him, and maybe insist he accept our help, whether he wants it or not. Earth may be a planet full of dumb, happy humans, but Zouk will have his sources dirtside just like we do. It won’t take him long to find Del.”

  “Maybe not, but he won’t be doing anything about it for a while.” Sam flashed a crooked grin. “I broke both his elbows and his knees. He’ll need a surgeon and a regen tank ASAP.”

  Lana’s expression was fierce with triumph. “That’ll slow the bastard down.” She caught Sam swaying on his feet. “Okay, you two, up to the ship. I’ll search all the medical facilities in town before I come up, though if Zouk had help he probably has access to a ship, too, and he’s gone from here.”

  Whatever she said was okay by him. Sam wanted only to lie down on the mucky ground and sleep. Gabriel had his arm over one shoulder now and was bracing him under the ribcage or he wouldn’t be standing. He saw Lana and Gabriel exchange a long look—that bond they had in action, he supposed—then he felt the D-mat beam take him home.

  Vaalad Zouk lay in the regeneration tank, up to his neck in thick, warm, healing fluid, and tried without success to calm his turbulent mind. A tendays, the medic had ordered, a tendays lost in idle frustration, nothing to do but float in this shalssiti tank and think of what he should be doing. The medic had insisted Zouk was lucky he still had enough of his joints to reconstruct. Lucky! Zouk cursed. That Rescue starship captain should rot in the blackest depths of Portal’s Hell.

  The room in which the regen tank sat stank of swamp and dead fish. The shalssiti Minertsans used a pool of bubbling mud for their healing onboard the diplomatic courier ship Moro. The place had been hastily cleared for his use when the tavern owner had called for help. Zouk admitted the credits placed in that man’s hands had been well spent.

  Though he’d paid a high price, the trip to Beh Deen had been worth it, too. He knew where Del Gordon had gone now. Yes, Earth was a big planet, with lots of places to hide. But it was only a matter of time until Zouk found him.

  The only problem was—he let out a string of curses—Zouk needed help. And he would be negotiating for that help from a place of weakness.

  The comm unit on the wall next to the tank beeped, interrupting his black thoughts.

  He activated it with a subvocal command. Zouk here.

  --Esteemed Agent Zouk. The Communications Officer stared at him from the bridge. He did not speak, he could not, but his words appeared in script at the bottom of the compscreen. An answer to your previous communication to Sol III. Shall I display the message?

  --Yes. Thank you, Officer.

  He read the response from his contact in Minertsa’s network on Earth.

  You ask much, my friend. We have thousands of agents on the ground here. Even I am not in contact with all of them. Perhaps if we narrowed the search in some way? Our records indicate the man you hunt was a native of the eastern part of North America. We can start there. But it will be expensive, even so . . . There is a reward, is there not?

  Rage filled Zouk’s chest and boiled out of his mouth in a strangled howl. “A reward for doing your fucking job?” No wonder the Grays called him whenever there was work to be done. The little slime devils were weak, their human puppets were greedy and weak. No one wanted to get their hands dirty when it came time to do what was necessary.

  “Oh, gods, for a knife sharp enough to slit all their throats!” He thrashed in the confinement of the tank, bringing searing agony to his arms and legs. The pain at last brought clarity. He stopped his flailing, struggled for breath.

  He had no choice but to give the man what he wanted—for now. When he had finished this job, no one would dare try to take what was his ever again. He would make sure of it.

  Zouk composed the return message:

  Agree we go forward as you suggest. Agents in eastern North America should actively seek information on the whereabouts of subject for transmission to me. You can be assured you will get the reward you deserve when I have accomplished my mission.

  Your friend, Zouk

  Charlie’s heart sped up as she turned off the highway into Rafe’s own gravel driveway, but Rafe was visibly disappointed. “Are we going home after all?”

  “Close,” she said with a nervous grin. “But not quite. Your private road is just the quickest way to get up there.”

  She drove past the little turnout toward the house and kept climbing, toward the ridge road. Beside her, Rafe relaxed as he began to understand where they were headed.

  It wasn’t a steep drive, or a difficult one. There was no danger of the vehicle hitting a pothole or sliding into the ditch. But she grew more breathless with every curve. Plenty of possible disasters awaited them at the top—calamities of the emotional sort. What the hell was she thinking bringing him up here?

  Generations of local teenagers had climbed up to this ridge looking for a piece of heaven that had nothing to do with the stars. Charlie blushed to think that’s what she might be after herself, though God knew she was due. This was the wrong man to find a night’s pleasure with, even if that’s all she wanted from him. He was her client’s son, the person responsible for her paycheck. She had rules.

  Oh, but every heavy thud of her heart, every shaky breath let her know how much she wanted this chance with Rafe. There had been that tiny moment when she’d touched his hand at Mike’s, a moment that had made her believe that they had some connection. She hadn’t felt that kind of connection in a long time. Maybe she hadn’t felt that kind of connection ever. It was worth a trip up to this ridge to find out whether that feeling was real. Rules or no rules.

  Charlie took the turn at the top and followed the wider ridge road. Almost at once the trees fell away to reveal a high meadow, the grass bent and rimed with heavy frost. She took the vehicle out over the rough shoulder of the meadow away from the trees and laurel bushes, seeking the open sky.

  Finally, she stopped and gave Rafe a smile. “Recognize it?”

  “I should,” he said, “I own it.”

  She shut off the
engine and grinned at him. “Come on.”

  She opened her door and got out, sliding a little on the crackling grass. She rounded the front of the Subaru and hopped up on the hood. The metal of the car was warm as she stretched out over it, her back on the windshield. She was grateful for her winter jacket; the breeze blew steadily up here on the ridge, and the night was cold. She doubted Rafe’s shirt and leather jacket were enough to do the job, as good as they looked on him.

  “You warm enough?” she asked him as he joined her on the Subaru’s hood.

  “I was just thinking of taking this off.” He tugged at his jacket sleeve.

  She laughed. “Oh, tough guy. Okay. But I do have a blanket in the car. It smells a little like dog.”

  “Or—” He watched her, gauging her reaction. “I could do this.” He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her in tight.

  She took a breath, her heart kicking up in anticipation as she snuggled into his warmth. “Yeah. Better idea.” He smelled like leather and some brand of spicy aftershave she didn’t recognize, and maybe beer, a little. She supposed she did, too. If she were to reach across with her left hand she could easily explore his body with her fingertips. But their clothes blocked any real contact with him, and she didn’t want to push things too far. She kept her hands to herself.

  Above them the sky was full of stars, the cross-section of the Milky Way slashing through the diamond-studded dome overhead. There was no moon tonight to detract from this heart-stopping view of the heavens; no lights from nearby towns; no fire built against the cold. It might be just the two of them, the only humans on Earth, looking up at that magnificent display of creative power.

  “It’s beautiful up here. Quiet.” Though Rafe’s voice was nothing more than a soft murmur, it seemed loud in that place.

  “Mmm.” It was a while before she said what she said next. “Just think of all those stars. Maybe all those other worlds circling them. Wouldn’t it be wonderful to go there? To see what’s out there in all that wide space? What would it be like?”