The moment the words left her mouth, a sinking feeling pitted her stomach. Was that why he was following her? Why Shaw trusted him to be where she was?
Had Shaw paid him?
“You don't court trouble. You don't invite it to dinner, and you sure as hell don't feed it like a stray. Strays always come back for more, and if you're not prepared to give it to them, you don't invite them in the first place.”
“I'm sorry, I refuse to live my life like that.” Because she didn't like having to apologize for something she wasn't truly sorry about, she twisted so she could meet his gaze. “If someone needs help, I'm going to offer them help. And if I can do something, I will.”
Kestral shook his head. “No wonder you need a keeper.”
Having no real snappy comeback for the remark, Tika settled for simply sticking her tongue out at him. They ate lunch in relative silence afterward. Perhaps he’d gotten the message she didn’t want his opinion.
Tummy full, they returned to hunting for supplies. She found some spices worth purchasing, some new shirts and bed clothes for Kestral’s room. He hadn’t asked and she hadn’t offered, she simply purchased them. Wine was another purchase she made, especially when she discovered one vendor with several bottles of her favorite vintage. He also cut the price dramatically when she greeted him in Greek. Sealing the deal for her was his offer to open a bottle and let her sample it.
Kestral took the first drink, and fortunately the merchant hadn’t been offended at his testing it before she did. His expression, however, at the taste amused her. Served him right for stealing her sample.
Carts loaded, she tugged it along and kept her gaze out for medical supplies. “You do realize if he’d poisoned the wine, you’d be the one dead since you insisted on tasting it first?”
“Maybe,” Kestral ranged out from her side, allowing her to look in at the wares, but keeping the foot traffic from hemming her in. “Then you wouldn’t have to deal with me.”
“Oh, I hadn’t thought of that perk.” She grinned and he chuckled. “But I doubt anyone is going to poison a stranger they’ve just met.”
“That’s why I tasted it for you,” Kestral said, pausing to move over to the cart while she stepped into the apothecary shop. “You don’t think anyone means you harm.”
“I think you did.”
“You didn’t when I stepped out of the washroom.” The low voiced reminder sent a flash through a mind of that fateful evening. She’d come into her quarters, feeling more than a little nauseated from the launch through the storm. Standing in the middle of the room, she’d been wrestling with whether to go throw up or just lie down. Kestral had just suddenly appeared in front of her and in their haste to depart, she’d thought perhaps Shaw had failed to mention him.
“Well, I’ve since learned my lesson, haven’t I?”
“Apparently not.”
Tika scowled, then returned to her focus on the different remedies. A pain reliever sounded excellent, especially with her sore feet. Kestral’s continued presence reminded her of the need for headache soothers, too.
She’d just completed the purchase and turned when she caught sight of the woman from earlier. Across the street, she leaned heavily into a wall and had a hand pressed to her side.
A hand covered in red…
“Oh, Gods,” she swore, as she grabbed the container of her purchases and hurried out of the shop. Racing past Kestral, she forgot to circle him and his sudden hiss, followed by a curse sent a spike of guilt into her heart. Dodging traffic on the street, she zipped into the alley.
The woman saw her rapid approach and pushed away from the wall, but barely made it two steps before she stumbled. Catching her, Tika braced her slight weight as they lowered to the ground. Although she’d been unkempt and dirty earlier, she hadn’t been bleeding, or at least Tika hadn’t seen any evidence of it.
“You’re hurt,” Tika said to her gently, pushing aside her hand to get a look at her side.
“You shouldn’t,” the woman argued, but she coughed.
“Let me help you, please.” She pulled aside the fabric at her mid-section. The gray material had gone nearly black with the blood. Releasing her, she stripped off her jacket and used it to try and staunch the blood flow. “They have to have a med center, so we’ll get you to it.”
“You mustn’t…” The woman said, then froze at the sound of a footstep scraping on the pavement behind Tika.
“Leave her.”
Damn, Kestral.
“No.”
“Dammit, Tika.” Kestral took her arm, and she shuddered as the zap of his shock shackle traveled from him to her. Jerking herself free, she glared at him.
“Back off.” She meant it, both literally and figuratively. “I’m not leaving her. She’s hurt.”
“She’s a convict,” Kestral hissed, his voice dropping. It was the first time she noticed he had a hand on his weapon, and his gaze went from the woman to all the passersby on the street—including those starting to take a look in their direction.
A convict? Chewing her lower lip, she wrestled with that knowledge then looked at the woman again. She was so pale, and deep bruises shadowed her eyes. The jacket Tika had stuffed against her midsection had started to soak through with the blood. “I have to help her.” It wasn’t a question. Convict or not, no one deserved to suffer, and Tika could see her suffering.
“Oh, for the love of all that’s holy…” Kestral shoved her aside and let out another grunt of frustration. “Get the cart.”
He knelt and picked the woman up. “You do one damn thing wrong, and I’ll snap your neck myself. Got it?”
“Yes,” the woman said, then grimaced. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me,” he snarled, pivoting to face Tika. “Back to the ship, now. The captain can deal with you.”
More interested in helping the woman than she was worried about the consequences, Tika got control of the cart and led the way. She didn’t slow her steps till they reached the docks, aware of anyone who even glanced in their direction. At least she had access to the Gilly. “I’m Tika,” she introduced herself as she waited for the ramp to lower.
“9-A.” The other woman said, then she slumped.
“Kestral…?”
“She’s not dead.” He replied, but she didn’t miss the yet he silently tacked on as he carried her on board.
6
Rule #13: True heroes know the price of their actions—and who is going to get stuck with the bill.
Kestral
All the way to the ship, Kestral knew bringing her with them was a bad idea. He recognized the gray garb as part of the Order of the IV, an institution designed to confine dangerous criminals, or at least those accused of crimes. The Order of the IV existed on a dozen different planets, and Kestral made it a point to avoid them at all costs.
Of course, Tika seem to have no such compunction about assisting the stranger. Sparing a glance at the woman in his arms, Kestral shook his head then increased his pace. Behind him Tika labored to keep up. Shaw paid him to keep Tika safe. He negotiated a significant fee, to offset what Kestral would lose from not claiming her for the bounty. Of course the only way to get the money, according to Shaw, was to complete his task over the course of one year.
Normally, he would never have made such a deal, especially one confining him for so very long. However, his only other option had been to go out an airlock. When faced with such untenable terms, Kestral agreed.
“Move it,” he said over his shoulder. While the streets of EA-2187 were densely populated with vehicles, the foot traffic was significantly lighter. This meant they were very noticeable as they made their way from the marketplaces in the center to the spaceport. Hopefully, security wouldn't stop him as he carried a bleeding wounded woman through. Or maybe not so fortunately. If they forced him to surrender her, then he would have done exactly as Tika had asked, and he would've kept her safe. Win-win as far as Kestral was concerned.
Damn his luck
, no one was waiting for them. At the ship, Tika granted them access to the Gilly. As the ramp lowered, Kestral shook his head. Shaw's shock shackle may have been to keep him in line, but he didn't grant him access to board the ship without either Tika or Shaw in attendance. It also barred from the cockpit. Not to mention he couldn't go anywhere except the lounge, kitchen services, his own quarters, and now the hold.
His arm still burned where the shackle shocked him from grabbing Tika. Her nearness had amped up the feedback loop and it continued to send tiny shivering shocks to his nervous system. He thought he might be actually getting used to it. Bypassing the hold, he made straight for the crew deck. Pausing at the hatch only long enough to make sure the ramp raised and the ship’s security sealed after Tika was also on board, Kestral nodded to her. She parked the wagon with their meager supplies, then followed him up the stairs.
“Where to?” The Gilly didn't actually have a med facility, though it did have med supplies and equipment. Maybe one of the empty crew rooms should be converted. A problem for another day. Preferably one when the potential patient wasn't bleeding out in his arms.
“That one.” Tika a hurried past him and Kestral braced himself for the shock. The woman in his arms let out a low groan. He almost wanted to apologize to her for it.
Almost.
Tika got the room open and a plan a sheet spread on the bed. After depositing his cargo. Kestral withdrew and watched as Tika pulled away her jacket to see the blood-soaked midsection continuing to ooze. Gut shot.
Well, that sucked.
Against the far wall, Kestral folded his arms and worked on getting his respiration under control. Shitstorms like this worked best when he had time to think through all the angles, play out all the possible scenarios, and then choose the path of least resistance.
It was a gift.
“We have to do something to stop the bleeding. I thought putting pressure would help but it seems to still be leaking.” Worry colored every syllable in Tika's voice. Good Lord. The woman was a bleeding heart herself. He’d never seen someone so completely at odds with the universe around her. Takers populated the colony worlds, then there was Tika… A true giver.
No wonder Shaw wanted her protected. Course, it didn’t explain why the captain tolerated him. On the other hand wasn't Kestral's problem. Keeping Tika safe was.
“It’s probably because a projectile is still in the wound.” Despite his reluctance, he had to admit Tika’s sunshine got to him, too. Especially when she snapped at him in her too prim little voice. “We need to remove it, scan for internal damage, and then seal the wound.”
“Do you know how to do that?” Eagerness filled her eyes with an emotion that Kestral just simply could not stand. Hope.
“I know how to field dress a wound, but that might not be enough.”
“Do you have a better idea?” Of course she had to challenge him. She wouldn't be Tika if she didn't challenge him.
“Yes, we dump her back outside and surrender her to a med center. Where they have facilities and physicians who were trained to deal with this.”
“But she was hiding.” At least Tika had noticed that part. “And she was terrified. I know what that kind of terror feels like.”
Oh no, she didn't. She was not going to liken this woman, stuck in an Order of the IV facility, with her own situation. “I know what it's like to not be sure of who you can trust, but to be desperately in need of aid. How can I not do something for her?”
Yet, there she went. Kestral shook his head. “Lady-o, do you want to die?”
“Of course I don't. Stop being difficult. I understand you don't want anything to do with this. I understand that taking care of others and putting compassion ahead of greed is not something you're used to doing. However, it is what I need to do, and I have to help her. So, if you know how to do this, do it. If you don't and you don't want to help — get the hell out of my way.”
The flare of fight in her demeanor, and the ferociousness in her statement pulled a reluctant smile from Kestral. He really didn't like many people, least of all tender little flowers who would wilt under a brutal sun. Tika seemed that way, most of the time, and then she would expose her thorns. He had to admit it was a bigger fan of the thorns than he was the with the flower petals.
“Fine. Go get me a med kit. Then boil some water.” He didn’t need the latter, but it would give her something to do. “Make sure the ship’s computer tells you where the sterile items are. We’re also going to need medicine… Painkillers would probably be advisable, and something to keep her unconscious while I get the damn thing out. Also do you have anything remotely resembling an x-ray machine?”
A sudden heart stopping grin lifted Tika’s whole being and a chink damaged Kestral's hardened heart. Ignoring the odd sensation he glared at her. “Now would be good.”
Sparked by his statement, she got moving. He waited until she cleared the door before he approached the patient on the bed. Her face was gray with fatigue and pain, and her lips twisted in a slight grimace. Hell, even her weight seemed well below that of what he would consider even remotely healthy. He still worried about why she had been running and what crime she had committed. How would his sweet little teacup feel about saving a mass murderer?
Shelving that in the category of problem for another day, Kestral stripped away the woman's shirt and used it to start wiping up the blood. He needed to see where the actual wound was. When Tika returned with the supplies she left them in the middle of the room so he could retrieve them. At least she had the common sense and steer clear of the shock shackle.
“Zed, can you scan the patient and tell us where the bullet is?” Tika spoke to the computer.
The AI responded in a clipped, terse accent that Kestral found himself both admiring and despising in the same breath. “No projectile present within the human form, however the individual does not have authorization to be aboard the Gilly. Reporting to the captain.”
Now they were in for it, because if she thought she could get this chick fixed and out the door before Shaw got back, it looked like Zed was going to rat her out.
“So, there's nothing in the wound. Does that make it easier?” The imploring look she sent him added another little dent to his steely will and heart.
“It means I don't have to dig around inside of her. That's always good. Computer, are there any signs of internal bleeding?”
Using alcohol and clean towels he managed to sanitize the area around the wound. It was roughly 4 cm in diameter and 8 cm long. Maybe it wasn't so much a bullet wound as a knife wound. That might make it easier to repair, but it could also mean there was internal damage.
When the computer didn't answer him, Kestral scowled and sent a look at Tika.
She winced, an almost apologetic look on her face. “Zed, please answer Kestral's question.”
“Internal hemorrhaging does not appear to be present. Internal organs appear to be intact. Blood pressure, however is extremely low. Recommend stanching the bleeding, cauterizing the wound, then preparing the patient for blood transfusion.”
Okay, doing what Doctor Zed said. Kestral began testing the edges of the wound looking for tears, finding none, and admiring the clean slice of it. After packing a light bit of gauze just inside to stanch excess bleeding, he began to stitch the wound closed. They might have to go in and pull the gauze out, but according to the packaging it would dissolve over time. Not a bad thing. He was not a seamstress by any stretch of the imagination, but he’d sewed himself up enough to understand how to tend an injury. Each time he slid the needle with the thread into the woman's wound, Tika made a little moaning sound.
“If you're going to throw up back there, could you possibly do it somewhere else?” He really needed to concentrate.
“Why do you both always seem to think I'm going to throw up?” The offense level of it her accusation pulled a reluctant smile from him.
“Could be the gagging sounds you’re making, and the fact that you've tu
rned an interesting shade of green.” Never once did he glance up from what he was doing, despite his comments.
“I made a sterner stuff than either one of you can ever imagine. I know what I'm doing.” The unspoken I hope on the end of that statement echoed so loudly in the room that Kestral considered whether or not he should even respond to it. Delicate, child of merchants, and a pampered one at that, Tika did seem to defy some social conventions. Not only had she fled her arranged marriage, she'd actually made it across several planets before any bounty hunter caught up with her.
Kestral was one of the best. When her bounty first came down the pipe he hadn’t even looked at it. Who was he to go hunting for some poor kid? On the other hand the second time the bounty came down the pipe, the reward had significantly increased and it just so happened he was in the same region. Pure dumb luck.
Not that he planned to tell her that.
“Whatever you say. Go see if there are any blood transfusion kits on board. If we have to do this, I need to be able to test for her blood type or it won’t matter what we have on board. Maybe Zed already knows.”
As if grateful for a task, Tika fled.
Kestral sealed the wound as best as he could, then he tested the stitches. They would hold. Hopefully they wouldn’t leave her with a scar. On the opposite side of her abdomen was another thin scar above her hipbone, and another just below her rib cage. This woman had been in a few fights over time. He spotted signs of a scar near her ear and then down on her collarbone. Bruises littered her from head to toe, old ones mottling yellow green with fresh bruises beginning to turn a deep blue and purple.
He'd seen that type of bruise pattern before. Usually caused from flogging, with several heavy objects in a bag. The design theoretically allowed the bruising to spread out without damaging the internal organs. Didn't do a damn thing about the pain though.
“Don't send me back.” The woman's low voice grabbed his attention and he glanced up to meet her eyes. Almost devoid of color, they seem to stare eerily through him. “Just kill me, don't send me back.”
Space Cowboy Survival Guide Page 11