Lane dragged the woman as quickly as possible, thankful she was a petite pregnant lady. She made it halfway to the sidewalk before a groan from the woman gave her pause. Lane held her breath, so thankful for that small pained sound. She was alive. Hurt—but alive.
Then a strong gust of wind blew the blanket from her shoulders. She watched as the shiny blanket drifted down the street, well out of reach.
Rain lashed her face, neck, and arms, cutting worse than knives. Lane gasped and moved faster, tripping over her own feet in her haste, but managing to stay upright.
Jerome waited just inside the open ambulance doors, his own gloves and poncho in place. He reached for the patient, lifting her easily into the van before he grabbed Lane’s arm and yanked her inside.
She fell against him, but he didn’t seem to notice—or care—about the rain on her face. His lips consumed hers desperately, his fingers tangling in her dark hair.
“Don’t do that again,” he whispered against her lips. “Please, God, don’t do that to me.”
“I’m sorry,” Lane said. She kissed him one more time and then shoved him away. “We have to get her to University. She’s still alive. Drive.”
Jerome shed the poncho and gloves on his way to the driver’s seat. Lane could still feel his lips on hers, banishing all feeling of pain in lieu of the warm glow of being loved.
The ambulance bumped off the sidewalk, and Lane ripped off her poncho and set about cutting away the woman’s soaking clothes. She dried the victim’s body as best she could to get the acid off her skin, though she couldn’t do anything for her hair and scalp.
In the time it took Lane to remove the clothes and get her dry, the woman’s pulse slowed, and her skin turned cold. She looked like a lump of uncooked meat, her entire body swollen and burned. Lane hated to even touch her, just knowing the pain it would cause.
Lane fell into her practiced routine, doing what she needed to do to keep the woman stable for the drive to the hospital. The silence inside the ambulance was broken only by the swish of the windshield wipers and the steady torrent of rain on the roof.
Until the radio crackled to life.
“Attention, all units. All units be advised, a state of emergency has been declared for Jefferson County and surrounding areas. All units are requested to return to their stations to await further instructions. Civilians have been ordered inside. Only emergency personnel are permitted on the streets.”
“Mary, Mother of Christ,” Lane breathed, leaning on the edge of the stretcher as she caught Jerome’s eye in the rearview mirror. “This isn’t a normal natural disaster, is it?”
He shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
Lane’s heart pounded, and her knees grew weak. She couldn’t lose it now. Her patient needed her.
The woman gasped, her eyes opening. The whites of her eyes were stained red with blood, but her baby blue irises were clear and focused as her gaze landed on Lane.
She shot up, both hands gripping Lane’s shirt. “Something’s wrong with the earth. I heard her speak.”
Lane stared at the woman for a frozen second before she gently disengaged her fingers and guided her back to the stretcher. “Shh. You’ve been very badly injured. You need to rest. We’re on our way to the hospital.”
“She hates us,” the woman hissed, closing her eyes. Tears bubbled from the edges and slid elegantly down her massacred skin. “She’s so disappointed. She gave us everything. And we took it all from her. Abused her. Diseased her.”
“Shh.” Lane wanted to comfort her but didn’t want to hurt her. She let her hand hover over the woman’s face. “You’re going to be okay.”
“Nobody is going to be okay,” the woman whispered, a sob choking her. “The end is just the beginning.” Her eyes snapped open again, and she grabbed Lane’s hands. “Save my baby. Please save my Terra. Don’t let her die with me.”
“You aren’t going to die.” Lane didn’t fight the woman’s grip.
“Please save Terra.” The woman whimpered, clutching her bulbous stomach as more tears spilled from her eyes. “Why, Mother? Why are you doing this?”
Jerome glanced over his shoulder. “Everything okay back there?”
“Yeah, we’re okay.”
Then the woman relaxed. Her eyes opened wide, staring sightlessly at the ceiling of the truck. Her hands slipped away from her bare belly.
She coded.
“Shit!” Lane reached for the paddles. “Move faster!”
The ambulance rocketed forward.
She hooked the woman to the machine and pressed the paddles in place. Electricity buzzed through her hands and into the air. The woman bucked with the force of energy but didn’t respond. Once more, Lane went through the motions, connecting, placing, sending electricity into the woman’s heart.
No response.
“Shit. Shit. Shit.” She stepped away from the table, dropping the paddles back into the bag. “How far?”
“There’s water covering 1st. I had to go around. Five minutes. More, if the rest of the city is underwater.”
“Fuck!” Lane kicked the side of the truck. She eyed the woman’s belly. Inside, a child was nearly ready to come into the world. Terra, she had called her daughter. Terra was running short on oxygen. Her mother would die, and so would she.
“Lane?” Jerome stared at her in the rearview mirror.
His gaze made the decision for her. His steady, beautiful gaze, always there for her, always one step ahead of her and behind her, simultaneously guiding and prompting.
She opened the cabinet and reached for a scalpel.
In theory, cutting open a human being to take out a baby should have been fairly simple. But the truth was, there were a lot of ways it could go wrong. Seeing as the mother was already turning blue, Lane figured she’d take her chances.
She pressed the knife gently into the woman’s lower abdomen. Blood poured from the wound as she slit from one side to the other.
She didn’t necessarily have the training for such a procedure. Her hands shook as she opened the woman’s abdomen and eyed the nestled package inside. A few more slits, and she pulled out a tiny purple newborn.
She cut the umbilical cord, cleared the baby’s mouth, and gently patted her on the back to encourage breathing. A crash of thunder shook the truck, and a split second later, the baby wailed.
Overcome by what she’d just done, Lane fell against the wall, clutching the crying baby to her chest.
“Jesus Christ, P! Are you okay?”
Jerome said her name three times. She heard him, his voice getting louder and more panicked each time he spoke. But she didn’t hear him.
Terra. The sweet, cherubic newborn had a head of dark hair and an already beautiful face. She would probably be lovely, like her poor mother. Lane hoped the girl had a father waiting for her.
A father.
“Jerome.” Lane’s voice came from nowhere and acted of its own accord. Time had ceased to march forward. The ambulance flew toward the hospital, but all Lane knew was this crying child and the man she loved so desperately.
“Lane, Jesus. You weren’t responding to me. Is the baby okay? Are you okay?”
“I’m pregnant,” Lane said, voice drowned by the beautiful cacophony of the baby’s cries.
“What?”
She cleared her throat and tried again, voice stronger. “I’m pregnant.”
Silence met her nuclear bomb. A silence that stretched so long she wondered if she were all alone.
“We’re having a baby?” His voice cracked on the last word.
“Ready or not,” Lane confirmed.
Jerome sniffled from the driver’s seat for a few minutes before he said, “Is this a bad time to ask you to marry me?”
Lane laughed. The pounding in her chest eased. She tucked the baby against her breasts and held her tightly.
No matter what happened as the day went on, as the rain fell and the world turned, at least she had him, she had the tiny
life inside her, and she’d saved a precious little girl named Terra.
That had to stand for something.
Also by Heather Marie Adkins
East of the Sun
West of the Moon
North of the Stars (coming soon)
South of the Sky (coming soon)
About Heather Marie Adkins
HEATHER MARIE ADKINS writes too much but still too little. She also has too many cats, not enough tequila, and a torrid love affair with procrastination.
Heather has written more than thirty novels in the past eight years, with an insane number to come in 2019. She resides in southern Indiana with a sarcastic cop who is entirely too dependent on puns. When she’s not plotting her next story or herding felines, she’s researching the weird, witchy, and woefully spectral for the Spirits & Spells Podcast.
Find out more about Heather and her books at heathermarieadkins.com.
Join her newsletter and get a FREE ebook at heathermarieadkins.com/newsletter
Trajectory
A Pendomus Chronicles Prequel
Carissa Andrews
In order to be nudged toward their destinies—first Runa and Traeton had to break ranks from what they already knew. Set before the #1 Amazon Bestseller, Pendomus, Trajectory takes you through the days leading up to Pendomus being spun out of control.
Chapter 1
Runa
At what point is technology a bad thing?
I’ve often pondered that thought, but never really been able to come up with a good answer. I’ve never known a life without the modern advances humanity has to offer. Yet, a part of me can’t help but feel like it’s made humanity lose something in ourselves.
Beams of sunlight caress the gnarly treetops, breaking and spreading in a spectrum of light, beckoning me to escape.
If only the Helix allowed outdoor professions.
Surely, I’m not the only one who’s wanted to uncover the mysteries hidden beyond our door.
Propping my elbows up on my window sill, my gaze shifts from the beauty in the stillness outside, to staring at the ghostly reflection of my amber eyes. Every fiber of my being cries out to breathe in the crisp, cool air beyond this containment of metal and glass.
~Whatcha doing? Not still daydreaming about being out in the frigid Pendomus air, are you?
My brother Baxten’s words enter my mind via the eLink, making me turn to face where I’d last seen him. Instead of hovering over the enormous table in the middle of our Living Quarters, he stands at my doorway, watching me closely. His dark eyes are deep brown pools of concern and I can’t help but wish for the thousandth time I had the same dark, mysterious eyes and dark hair he did.
Instead, I couldn’t be more opposite from him if I tried.
I snort, turning away from him.
~Don’t you miss it?
My response is short, but I know it won’t matter. It’s been ages since he shared my love of the outdoors. Years since we last went outside together just because; stealing precious moments away from the confines of the Helix.
~What’s there to miss? It’s freezing and everything’s dead. You should be focusing on developing your talents for your professional appointment. You’re not far off from being chosen, Runa.
I sigh loudly.
~I know.
~Oh, c’mon sis. It’s not that bad. There’s gotta be something else you’d like to do with your life? What about RationCap chemistry, like Mom?
My eyes widen, but my brows tug down. Contorting to look at him, I scoff.
~You’re kidding, right?
The thought of going into the same profession as my mother pulls at my impulse to run away. I wouldn’t go into that profession if it was the only one on the planet left.
~It might bring you closer together, you know, he says, shrugging.
~I highly doubt there’s anything that would bring us close.
I return my gaze to the trees beyond and release a slow breath.
Baxten walks into my QuietSpace and kneels down beside me. When I don’t look up, he reaches out, placing a single finger under my chin and guiding me to his expectant eyes.
~You don’t know that. I know how hard this has been for you. I just—I want something to go right for you.
I bite my lower lip to keep it from quivering.
~Then help me find a way to study outside. It’s where my aptitudes are, Baxten. Truly. I’m not like you. I want to explore. I want to uncover the truth of our planet. I need to understand the trees, the birds—
Baxten scrunches his face.
~You know that’s not possible. There’s just not a need for it. We have everything we need inside the Helix.
~How do you know? There’s so much we could learn from this world we live in.
He shrugs.
It’s not a disagreement, but it’s not an agreement, either.
~What about the Morph? he asks.
There are tales of a monster in the woods—something big, bad, and definitely dangerous. But no one knows where the tales come from.
~I’m not worried about the Morph. Have you ever seen it?
~Well, no—
Turning away from his watchful eyes, I cast my gaze out over the snow and trees. I’ve stared out these windows for more hours than I can count. If the Morph was really out there, I would have caught a glimpse of it by now. Yet, nothing. Not even something I could say might be the Morph.
I take a deep breath and stand up, brushing off the front of my NanoTech trousers. Without more discussion, I ignore his surprised expression and make my way through the Living Quarters.
~Where are you going, Runa?
I raise a hand and wave, then shoot him a small smile.
~Where else? Outside.
Without waiting for his response, I walk down the small hallway leading out. The last thing I hear is his sigh as I close the door behind me.
Before I continue down the cylindrical hallways of the Helix, I lean against the closed door and close my eyes. Everything is starting to feel so suffocating. I feel like, if I don’t find a way to breathe soon, I’m going to fade away into the background noise also known as the Helix.
The white back-lighting and sterile environment inside this place does nothing to entice my senses whatsoever. It’s all so bland and boring—and utterly stifling.
Sure, it’s clean and orderly, just the way the Helix likes things. But it lacks any sense of mystery or adventure.
Or humanity.
At least, as far as I’m concerned.
Shaking my head, I tap the button on the side of my NanoTech jacket, signaling it to go into full-blown outdoor mode. The previously light material transforms into cold-weather gear and I flick the button to release my gloves.
Pulling the hood up over my long white-blonde hair, I make my way to the nearest exit and thrust open the door.
Instantly, the wintry, fresh breeze rushes at me. I inhale the crisp crackle in the frigid air and cherish the pelting of snowflakes as they make contact with my face.
Closing my eyes, I stand there, head tipped to the sky, as I allow the snowflakes to melt against my skin.
As if able to finally breathe for the first time—I smile.
Chapter 2
Traeton
Sitting on the stone landing of the fountain in the center of the city, I prop my chin in my hands and look out at the sea of people going about their daily business. They’re all so oblivious to the struggles of the real world.
Sure, they aren’t in the Helix, but they’re not overly living, either.
My eyes flit to the woman walking down the street hand-in-hand with a seven-year-old girl—my sister. It’s been five years since we escaped the Helix, and yet, I still can’t bring myself to make amends. Maybe they can’t either.
But that’s real life.
Biting my lower lip, I stand up, sliding into the shadows, and make my way back to Landry’s. Being in the same vicinity makes my insides feel like they wanna b
e outsides.
I scratch the top of my head and shake away the disconcerted emotions playing out. It’s been a while now, and I think it’s time to make a move. The question is, can I convince Fenton to come with me?
The Lateral is all he’s ever known.
My feet hit the cobbled stones of the street in even intervals, and I use it as a metronome to keep me focused on getting out, rather than dwelling on the past. No good can come from going down memory lane, that’s for sure.
“Hey, where are you off to in such a hurry?”
I spin around and come face-to-face with Delaney.
Her dark, curly hair is piled up on top of her head and her dark skin contrasts the cream-colored fabric of her blouse. It definitely softens her appearance and makes her dazzling smile stand out more.
“I uh—I was just—”
“Avoiding your mother?” she suggests.
I lower my eyebrows, “Maybe.”
“You know, you can’t hide from her forever. At some point, you’re going to need to talk to her.”
“And on that note, I gotta head out. See ya, Lane,” I say, waving.
She shakes her head, the curls on top swaying from side-to-side.
I grin sheepishly but keep going.
As much as Delaney is probably right, I just can’t see it ever happening. I mean, at this point, you would have thought if my Mom wanted to talk about things, she would have come to find me. Communication is a two-way street, after all. Right?
When I reach the steps to Landry’s, I pause. How the hell am I gonna convince Fenton to leave the only family he’s known and relocate with me? Will it be easy? Or am I in for a fight?
“Whatcha doin’ out ’ere?” Fenton says in his signature accent as he pulls the door back.
I twist around, “Nothing. Just felt like . . . sitting.”
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