by King, Sara
Milar tightened his grip and Tatiana froze as the knife bit deeper. She felt the cold metal at her throat, could imagine what it would feel like when it sank into her skin, could already feel the tug as it sliced through her flesh. Knowing Milar, he’d probably take his time. Make her cry. Watch her bleed.
Sick bastard.
It seemed like forever before Milar spoke. When he did, his voice had a sharper edge. “You know what happens next, right? If everybody thinks you’re dead and nobody knows you’re here, there’s nothing stopping me from burying your corpse in that nice big furrow you made with my ship and going about my merry way. Are you sure nobody knows?”
“How could they?!” Tatiana snapped, lifting her head into his face. “If you’re going to kill me, just do it already. Stop taunting me, you sick bastard.”
For what seemed like an eternity, Milar merely frowned at her. Then he straightened and released her. Looking off to the side, he began once more dangling the knife between his fingers. “Zip up.”
Tatiana scooted away from him. She frowned at him. Zip up? What? Why hadn’t he killed her? What was his game?
“Your jumpsuit, squid.”
Tatiana glanced down at the injured node in her chest and flushed a deep scarlet when she saw her breasts were exposed. She yanked her jumpsuit shut and zipped it up, a blush creeping up her neck like wildfire.
“Don’t worry,” Milar sneered, “Bleeding, topless cyborgs aren’t my style.”
Once again, Tatiana was reminded of the unsightly metal nodes protruding from her stomach, chest, sides, legs, arms, spine, and skull. Humiliated, she began inching backwards, toward the stairs. If she could get to the top of the staircase, she might be able to make a run for it…
A big hand caught her ankle and dragged her back within reach. Milar was smirking at her again. “But, if you try to run, I just might reconsider letting you keep your jumpsuit.” His lips quirked in a smile and he tapped his exposed thigh with the knife meaningfully. “Considerin’.” The knot and the belt still held his ruined pants to his hips, but a ragged slit ran down one leg, exposing much of the flesh underneath.
Tatiana swallowed, hard.
Male technicians working in the soldiers’ staging area saw her naked all the time as they prepped her for missions, but the thought of Milar seeing her naked was…unacceptable.
Then Milar’s face twisted into a leer. “Then again, I might reconsider it anyway. I still owe ya one, sweetie.”
Tatiana’s blush deepened until she felt like her entire face was on fire. Her eyes fell to the knife in his hand. She suddenly didn’t feel too well.
“But,” Milar said, leaning back against the wall and smirking, “We’ve got awhile. I could always just think of something more fitting.”
Then he said nothing more. The knife was mesmerizing as it dangled between his fingers. Beautiful, yet deadly. Seconds passed. Then minutes. He said nothing, just watched her, a thoughtful smile on his face.
“What are you waiting for?” she finally whispered.
“My brother,” Milar said. He kept toying with the knife. Watching her.
Tatiana found the silence unbearable. “How long will it take him to get here?”
“Don’t know.” Milar flipped the knife to his other hand. He kept twisting it, then glanced at the blade as if in thought. Finally, he said, “What made you crash?”
Tatiana froze. “Nothing. Why?”
He actually stopped fiddling with his knife to laugh. Gesturing with the blade, he pointed out the back hatch, at the kilometer-long furrow she’d left in the reddish earth. “Because that is an awfully strange way to make a landing. Even for a coaler.”
Tatiana reddened. “Your ship malfunctioned, collie.”
“Bull,” Milar said, his eyes locking with hers. “If I went in there right now, I could fly this thing back to town no sweat.” He leaned forward and tapped the front of her jumpsuit with the flat of the blade. “So what was it that made you go down, sweetie? You some sort of epileptic? You have another panic attack?”
“It wasn’t a panic attack,” she snapped. Tatiana lifted her chin, keeping her eyes on the knife. “Get that away from me.”
Milar snorted, but leaned back against the wall. “Well?” he asked, after a few more minutes had passed in silence. “What was it, then?”
When Tatiana said nothing, he set his knife away behind him and leaned closer, clasping his hands over a knee. “Because I have a theory. If you want to hear it.”
“Not especially,” Tatiana said. “Why are we waiting for your brother? Because you’re too much of a coward to kill me alone?”
Milar threw back his head and laughed. “If you had any idea how close—” He stopped and shook his head. “No. Pat’s too much of a softie to pull a trigger, much less cut a pretty young throat like yours. He left that to me.”
The simple way he said gave Tatiana goosebumps. She started inching away again, but at his warning look, she desisted.
“So,” Milar said, peering over his knee at her once more, “Want to hear my theory?”
“No,” she muttered.
He reached forward and tapped her skull with a big finger. “You’re like Patrick. You see things.”
She flinched away from him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He grinned. “Yeah you do.”
“See things? What kind of things? Everyone sees things.”
“‘Cause I noticed something,” Milar continued, “Just now, when I went to check the com system.” He paused, his golden hazel eyes scanning her face.
Piss brown, Tatiana corrected herself. ‘Golden’ and ‘hazel’ were too noble of terms for eyes like that.
“Seems our good Wideman left a present for you on the console. Some of it’s still there, stuck to the blood you’re gonna clean up later.” Milar leaned forward, until his big body was much too close. “I was watching your face in Wideman Joe’s garden, sweetie. I know you saw something.”
“Sounds like you know a lot of stuff,” Tatiana said. “But what about where I put your brother’s pistol?”
Milar froze, then glanced back into the cockpit.
Tatiana smiled sweetly at him when he jerked his head back to glare at her.
Milar’s eyes fell to the cargo pockets of her jumpsuit, all flat and empty, then he grabbed her hands and held them up as he reached behind and felt along her back. Tatiana endured it, though her smile was now all teeth.
Then, scowling at her, Milar snatched up his knife and went looking for it.
The moment he spotted it behind the console and squatted to retrieve it, Tatiana scooted backwards and leapt to her feet. She hit the CLOSE button on the cockpit hatch and lunged down the staircase at full speed. She was already rushing across the floor of the hold before she heard Milar curse and charge out of the cockpit after her.
Keep going, Tatiana’s frantic mind chanted. You’ve got the lead. Keep going, keep going…
She stumbled down the ramp and through the damp dirt still warm from landing. Holding her wounded shoulder in place with one hand, she hurdled fallen alien trees and clambered up the side of the furrow, her bare feet digging into the soft edges.
Then she was in the alien forest, running for her life.
To her horror, she heard heavy footsteps behind her. Gaining quickly.
You’re half his size, she thought, miserable, and you thought you could outrun him? With a concussion?
“Come here,” Milar growled behind her. Suddenly her jumpsuit went taut against her chest and she was dragged backwards, into Milar’s waiting arms. Into her ear, Milar said, “Clever little thing, ain’t ya? Too bad you run like a pregnant starlope.”
He twisted her around so she was facing him. Scanning her face, he said, “That why you aren’t a Nephyr, coaler squid? Because you’re stunted?”
She snorted. Looked away.
“Well, let me tell you something,” Milar said. “I was drafted for the Nephyrs. My brother
and his girlfriend’s little sister got me out.” He grinned again and swept his hand back against her bare skull, stopping his thumb on the metal node above her left temple. Feeling it, Tatiana tried not to squirm, but mental alarms were going off in her head. Of all her nodes, that was the most sensitive, and the most dangerous to injure. Usually when not in her soldier, she wore a special hat, because a tap too hard could cause convulsions or even death.
He can’t know, Tatiana thought. Just calm down.
“But I was there for three months before Pat found me,” Milar continued softly, keeping his hand in place over the temple nexus. “Learned quite a bit.” He tapped the node gently with his thumb. “Like how much I hate coalers, and how easy it is to kill them.”
Tatiana refused to tremble. Glaring up into his eyes, she said, “You’re lying.”
He tapped the node again before releasing her. His hazel eyes were dark as he watched her. “Let me show you something, sweetie.” He stepped back and tugged off his shirt, exposing the sleeping dragons that twined across his chest and shoulders for a second time that day. “Look closely this time, runt.”
Tatiana stepped backwards, licking her lips, considering her chances if she made another run for it.
Then she saw the scars.
A single line ran from his groin to his sternum and spread out across his shoulders, with smaller scars running in surgical precision down his arms and along his ribs. Medical scars. All over his body. Tatiana forgot to breathe.
The dragon tattoo that covered much of his arms, snaking up his shoulders and neck, suddenly had a new purpose. The legs and bodies of the sleeping dragons had been strategically placed, every centimeter of them perfectly positioned to hide the fact that someone had spent a lot of time cutting him apart.
“Pat got to me the day after they took off my skin and put it in cold storage,” Milar said, when she could only stare. “They were gonna put that fancy Nephyr stuff on the next morning. Despite what I wanted.”
Tatiana blinked and took another step backwards. There’s no way. Nobody escapes the Nephyr academy. Nobody—
“And,” Milar said, taking a step toward her, “Patrick thinks I didn’t hear you, when you bragged about watching the Nephyrs skinning those colonists alive. It took me half an hour of cooling off just to keep myself from coming in there and throttling the life out of your stupid body. I was there, sweetie. Screamin’ just like all those nice videos you like to watch so much. I was a real hard case, so they didn’t bother with putting me under. Supposed to teach me some sort of lesson.” He smiled cruelly. “And it did, in a way.”
“I didn’t—” Tatiana began.
“So just watch yourself,” Milar said, tugging his shirt back on. “I’m just itching to give you a taste of what it feels like.”
Tatiana put some more distance between them. “I never saw those vids.”
“Right.” Milar grabbed her bad arm and gave it a warning tug. “Let’s go.”
“I didn’t,” Tatiana said, close to tears, now. “I was just trying to scare him.”
“Uh-huh. Just like you made that call earlier today, eh? Just like you didn’t see anything in the pumpkin patch? Just like you crashed because my ship malfunctioned?”
Tatiana caught Milar’s arm with her good hand, her fingers unable to even circle his wrist. “Listen to me,” she said, digging her bare heels into the ground and tugging them to a halt. “I never watched those videos. Never. Made me sick just thinking of it. I was just scared when I said that to Patrick. Scared and angry.”
Milar rolled his eyes and started moving again.
“But,” Tatiana said, gritting her teeth together as she held her ground, “I did see something in the pumpkin patch. And again in the cockpit, after I touched those damn shavings.”
Milar halted, still staring straight ahead. “And?” he asked softly, not looking at her.
Tatiana licked her lips. “The first one was of me. I had this weird node between my eyes. Never seen anything like it before. Not Coalition, that’s for sure. I thought you bastards had given me some sort of drug. Maybe genetically engineered the squash to have some sort of hallucinogenic properties. Something.”
Milar turned and glanced down at her. “And the cockpit?”
“Uh…” Tatiana reddened, embarrassed. “I, uh, was…”
Milar waited.
“Flying against soldiers,” she squeaked. “Coalition. They shot me down. I was gonna hit a government facility head-on. Had been leading some sort of air-strike against it, I think.”
For a long time, Milar only watched her, his golden-brown eyes scanning her face. Then, softly, he said, “You never watched those videos?”
“Never,” she whispered. “I can’t even stand watching another operator get hooked up to their soldiers…how could I stand something like that?”
Milar grunted and looked away.
“What did I see?” Tatiana whispered.
“You really want me to answer that, coaler squid?” Milar looked back at her, amusement on his face.
“Yes,” she gritted. Please let it be a drug. Some new and weird and expensive drug.
Milar grinned and tapped her brow right between the eyes. “You’re seeing the future.”
“No,” Tatiana bit out. “Never.”
Milar laughed and tugged her into motion again. As he walked, he said, “Just face it, sweetie. You’re not gonna be a coaler squid forever.”
Chapter 14
Runaway Joel
Joel settled into the big break-room armchair and closed his eyes. He’d been so exhausted lately that he could barely keep conscious on the cleaning routes. The two hours of laundry chores that the Director had tacked onto his daily routine for contraband ate into his already-skimpy sleep schedule—
Joel jerked awake when someone nudged his boot.
“Huh?” he asked, blinking up at the blurry image.
“Shift’s over. I had one of your eggers cover for you.”
Joel blinked and sat up. His whole body ached with bruises and exhaustion, and his ribs ground into his lungs with every breath. He’d been asleep? He didn’t remember falling asleep. Groaning, he pressed a palm to his head. “Magali?”
“Yeah,” she said.
Joel started to stand, but the woman put a hand on his shoulder and pushed him back into the chair. When he glanced up at her in question, her face was serious.
“Are you Runaway Joel?”
He laughed and shrugged off her grip. “Don’t know where you’d get a stupid idea like that.” He stood. Looking down at her, he said, “Do I look like a smuggler? Would I be stuck in a Yolk factory if I was a smuggler?”
“Would you?” she asked, peering up at him.
Magali was tall for a woman, maybe five-ten or five-eleven. Considering how her chest strained at the seams of her jumpsuit, she probably weighed more than him, too. Joel had to force himself to tear his eyes back to her face. “What?” He shook himself. “Of course not. If I was that Joel, I’da been outta here the moment they offloaded me.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. With arms that wiry and muscular, no one could accuse her of being fat, but with breasts that huge… “So why are you still hanging around?”
Joel flinched. He didn’t like the way the conversation was going, even if it was with a pretty girl. Without a word, he started toward the door.
“I could start asking questions,” she said, at his back. “Maybe ask the Director if she’s got any of those old wanted posters hanging around.”
Joel froze, his hand on the latch. “Now why did you have to go say something like that?” He turned around, every fiber of his body stiff as he yanked the door shut behind him.
“I want you to help me get out of here,” Magali said, unflinching at the slam of the door. “Tonight.”
Joel crossed the space and locked the door to the Shrieker mound. Then, turning around to face her, he said, “I’m not going to kill you,” he said. He crossed the
breakroom to put his body in front of the outer door, which had no lock. “But I should.”
“Yeah,” Magali agreed. “Because if you don’t help me get out of here tonight, you’re in a lot of trouble.”
For a minute, Joel could only stare at her. Then, “Let me get this straight,” Joel said, unable to keep the disbelief from his voice. “After nobody’s been able to escape this camp since they made the damn thing, you want me to get you and your little cretin of a sister out of here, safely, by the end of the night.”
“My sister can take care of herself,” Magali said. “Just me.”
Joel hesitated, sensing something else was at work here. “Just you? You two have a falling out or something?”
Magali gave him an unhappy smile. “I think that happened a long time ago.”
“So, what, you’re just going to leave her?”
“Yep.” There was no remorse in her voice. None.
Joel frowned at her, then leaned back against the outer door. “Do you have any idea what you’re asking? The last three guys I tried to take out of here chickened out halfway there. Got us caught and dragged back.”
Magali’s eyes widened a little upon hearing that. “You’re the guy who spent a week in the stocks?”
Joel gave a disgusted snort. “It was more like two.” His back ached just thinking about it.
The woman’s eyes widened further. “Then, if we get caught this time…”
“The Director would hang me.” And love every second of it, he thought, remembering the look in her eyes when he dropped Gayle’s badge on her desk.
“Oh.” She looked away. “Why haven’t you left on your own, then?”
Joel grunted and shifted against the door. “Can’t. The Shrieker mound has about a dozen chambers beyond B Block, with twice that many slick, slimy walls to scale. Takes two people to get up about three of them. After that, there’s a mating pool and an underground river and…” He shrugged. “I’m not sure what else. Never made it past that without my dumbass partner freaking out.” Or dying. Joel winced.