Beyond : Series Bundle (9781311505637)

by Miller, Maureen A.

  Frantic, Aimee looked out into the trees for some magical weapon. The only advantage she had was that these giant vegetables had no idea she was behind them. She considered running out into the path and waving her hands in the air as a distraction. It could possibly afford Zak a few precious seconds to regroup. But she would be dead before he could do any damage.

  Think. Think. Think.

  Another explosion shook the ground. The trunks of the giant cacti shuddered. The motion caused her eyes to latch onto the over-sized vines snaked around them. These thick lanais were within reach. Without considering the consequences, she lunged out of the cave, grabbed the closest vine, and started to unwind the thick cord.

  She was a little freaked by the fact that the plant in her hand squirmed like an earthworm, but there was no time to dwell on it. Crawling into the thicket of trees, she banked on the fact that her tread would be drowned out by the blasts. On all fours, she braved the clearing between the trunks, passing directly behind the three green men. Bursts of hot air stirred her hair as Zak struck another shot. One of the giants stumbled backwards, nearly colliding with her. She held her breath, but the creature righted himself and drew his bow. Aimee cleared the path behind them, dragging the vine with her. Now she had to find a way to circle back and cross the ground in front of them…unseen.

  As she contemplated this feat, the vine began to wrap around her wrist and climb up her arm like a boa constrictor. She swallowed a shriek and clawed at the groping flora. It wound tighter as her hand grew numb. With her free hand, she grappled in the underbrush for something to strike the creeper with. Locating a rock, she struck the cord snaking along the ground beside her. Undeterred, the vine continued to scale her arm. This time, she lifted her hand and slammed down with all her strength. A sharp edge must have clipped the python. A golden viscous substance oozed out of the wound and the grip on her arm faltered. One more time she smacked the writhing liana, and this time she succeeded. The vine was severed and the pressure on her forearm ceased. The detached end lay on the ground, still secreting its foul-scented gilded blood.

  The detached end began to jerk. It hefted into the air in a slow, winding arc. It was probing for something—probably the rest of its body. She crawled backwards, out of reach. The vine then swerved in the opposite direction, sensing the stony feet of the green giants. Again it hoisted into the air, its severed end swaying back and forth, lurching towards the closest thing it could grab onto...the legs of the jungle creature. It wrapped around them and squeezed, toppling the giant despite his roar of protest. The vine continued its trek and latched onto the next creature, toppling him as he tried to use his bow to hack at the root.

  Zak took advantage of this interruption and fired off two shots which debilitated the grounded beasts. The third jungle man, the one originally wounded, stood off to the side and just now drew his bow. Aimee’s glance jerked towards Zak and she realized he did not see the creature. He thought all his foes were incapacitated. Out of a cloud of smoke, he climbed from the space craft.

  Across from her the jungle man raised his bow. The point of his arrow was on a collision course with Zak’s chest. The string drew back with a creak that sounded so loud to her.

  “No!” she screamed.

  Aimee launched from the underbrush, aiming for the giant’s legs and praying that the motion would offer Zak the second he needed to shoot. If he was late, she was dead.

  Before she could connect with the giant, it swerved, hurling an object at her. Whatever it was, there was no time to avoid impact. A burst of pain beset her shoulder as she was knocked backwards by the force.

  Next to her, the air hummed. Her body bounced as the giant toppled to the ground. Pain pulsed in her shoulder—each red, hot beat worse than the previous. Her sight began to cloud. Blinking for clarity, she swore that Zak fell to his knees in front of her.

  Oh, don’t let it all be for naught. If he was shot too, then she had been a complete failure.

  “Aimee.”

  Blinking did not assist with her muffled hearing.

  “What have you done?”

  Was he scolding her?

  She felt strong arms slide beneath her knees and back, and then she was weightless.

  Nestling into this warm haven, she closed her eyes.

  “I’m okay,” she whispered.

  “Hold on to me.”

  She heard Zak's order, and obliged with her one good arm, hooking it over his shoulder. His grip on her constricted and she was less conscious of the pain now, and more aware of him. With her head crooked against his throat, she smelled his skin—a combination of the sultry air, the metallic residue of explosives, and ironically, the soft scent of soap.

  "I need to get you back into the TA before I can evaluate your injury. We'll have some protection in there. Can you make it?"

  "Mmmm hmmmm," she mumbled. She was so tired.

  "Aimee, stay with me. Don't fall asleep." He held her tighter.

  Aimee placed draped her hand on the back of his neck. His skin was so warm. A cord of solid muscle was there. “So sleepy," she murmured.

  "No. We're here. Hang on to me. I have to let go to open the door."

  She hugged him tighter and whimpered when her shoulder smashed into his. The rustle of the hatch could be heard, and then she felt Zak's arm wrap around her again as he climbed inside the craft. It was dark in there. It made her even drowsier. Aware that Zak had set her down, she sensed the familiar egg shell seal partially around her.

  "Aimee, look at me."

  Mumbling a protest, she closed her eyes.

  Zak's fingers were under her chin, gently inching her head up. "Look at me," he commanded.

  She frowned and opened her eyes. The sun. Her sun. From her solar system. That’s what she saw in his eyes. It was beautiful. Her heart raced and it had nothing to do with the trauma of the attack.

  The beauty disappeared and was replaced with the harsh reality that he was aiming a gun at her. She jerked back, but was confined inside her seat.

  Was she so badly injured that he had to put her down—put her out of her misery, like a horse?

  "I'm okay. Really, I am!" she cried.

  Her eyes were fixed on the odd weapon when she saw Zak's finger jerk. No ray was emitted, but she felt a jolt to her shoulder as if she had been shoved. She reached for her arm but already she could tell that the pain was gone.

  "What did you do to me?"

  Zak was crouched down eye level with her. He leaned in to inspect her wound.

  Cautious fingers tested her shoulder, enabling her to see the extent of the damage. A three inch gap in the fabric exposed her flesh which looked pale next to the vibrant silver material. There was no gaping wound, though. No blood. The pain was minimal. Honestly, all she could feel now was the touch of Zak’s fingers on her bare skin.

  "Why did you do that?" His gaze left her injury to probe her eyes. "Why did you throw yourself at that creature?"

  "Y-you were trapped," she stuttered. "You would have been killed."

  Crouched between her legs, Zak looked at her with an intensity that made her heart stutter.

  "I fight alone. I am a Warrior. If I fail, then I die alone. There is no time and not enough men for it to be any other way."

  Perhaps it was post traumatic emotion, but Aimee felt tears creep up behind her eyes.

  "That is very sad." She cleared her throat. "But today you were not alone. Today you had help. And today you didn't—" her voice caught, "—die."

  Zak studied her. Long and so hard. It didn’t make her uncomfortable. For others he might use his eyes as intimidation, but she just found them beautiful. It was when they dropped to her lips that her breath faltered.

  "No." His voice was husky. "Today I didn't die."

  His head lowered until she could feel the soft dust of his breath against her lips. She closed her eyes and tilted her chin...

  ...and felt nothing but air.

  Aimee opened her eyes to discover Za
k still watching her, though he had withdrawn to a safe distance. His expression seemed conflicted.

  “Why did you have to pick my ship to hide in?” he fired quietly.

  Breathless, she tried to respond.

  His gaze remained on her lips. "Your shoulder should be fine now,” he vowed, sitting back on his heels.

  “Wh-what happened to it?” Aimee was still reeling. “What did they shoot me with?"

  Banishing his inner conflict, Zak was all professional when he spoke.

  "I've seen weapons like what they used on you. I'm willing to bet they grabbed those bows from some rogue group of Korons that came through. The firearm they used is not deadly, though. It’s intended for immediate range. It will debilitate, and hurt like the bite of a shorhuck, but it won't kill you."

  Aimee looked at the gap in her suit and thought of Zak’s fingers there. "Then why did it rip my suit if it’s so innocent?"

  "I'm trying to figure out the translation. It's like an electric shock, as if someone had touched you with a raw burst of power. There was enough friction to burn through your suit, but it did minimal damage to your arm. And what I hit you with was just a simple pain killer. They're in that compartment over there," he nodded his head to her side, "if you need any more."

  "Oh." Her mouth clamped shut.

  "Aimee," Zak reached out and gently touched her chin. "Don't do that again." He sobered. "Next time they might not have innocent weapons, and I don't want to see you get hurt. You scared me."

  The gravity of his words made her tremble. The sincerity in his eyes made her breathless.

  "I was afraid for you...and...and...your sister is in here. I wasn't going to let them destroy this ship."

  Something changed. Some minute detail. The hand beneath her chin opened and his warm palm rested against her cheek. His head angled, and his smile was filled with a new kind of pain.

  "You would make a good Warrior,” he said softly.

  The fingers dusting across her cheek reached up and stroked her hair.

  "Now, my little wayward space creature, it's time to see if this TA can make it out of the atmosphere."

  He sat back on his heels again, and Aimee missed his touch.

  "You fixed it?" she asked.

  Zak stood up. "Well, mostly. We can take off. We can fly." He climbed around her into the front seat and she could hear his voice behind her shell. "I'm just not sure we can land."

  * * *

  Zak was good for his word. They did manage to take off from Bordran. It was a little shaky—unsteady motion that Dramamine couldn't fend off. But they were out of the funky-hued atmosphere and back into the stars. For the first time Aimee felt a sense of security in this netherworld. How odd to find comfort in the black expanse of space over the stability of land. Perhaps it was the pilot behind her.

  "Did you even get what you were going there for?" she asked, watching a blanket of fuzzy lights bathe over the craft like an exploded daffodil.

  "Hah, yes. All of that chaos just for one plant. But you have to understand—we look at every plant as maybe this is the one. Maybe this is the antidote that will save us and let us go home."

  "You mean let them go home? Will it let you go home?"

  Silence lingered behind her. After a lengthy delay, Zak answered.

  "The people of Anthum saved me. When they are safe, then I will go home."

  There's nothing there for you.

  "What if there are no rebels left?" Her heart ached for him.

  "I know you're sitting back there, thinking I'm crazy," he said quietly.

  "No. I understand, Zak. I really do." And she did. His quest may end up being futile, but she understood his desire. Her yearning to return to her planet could wage a war against any rational argument against it.

  They were silent, lost in their own thoughts until finally she heard him say, "Thank you, Aimee. Thank you for saving my life—"

  Boom.

  “What was that?” she cried out.

  A shriek as loud as a banshee emanated from every nook of the ship. Aimee had visited her father’s car manufacturing plant and remembered the piercing sound of saw through metal. Increase that by twenty decibels and that was the clamor she just heard.

  “We lost some of the stabilizers,” Zak shouted. “Coming out of light speed isn’t as smooth as it normally would be. We’re nearing the Horus. Now the fun is about to begin.”

  “When you say fun, I don’t think you mean it in the literal sense.”

  The screeching abated and Aimee felt the ship coast back into a level rhythm.

  “Aimee, inside the shell of your chair is a red square. If you place your palm against it, it will shut the shell. We have no motion halters. They were irreparable.”

  “You have no brakes,” she translated in a whisper.

  Zak didn’t hear her. “With the velocity that we are coming in at…it’s going to be hard to aim for the landing bay. And if we do make it, we have to hope they have set up enough of a bolster to stop us.”

  “I didn’t hear you talking to them.”

  “I couldn’t speak to them until we came out of light speed. I’m about to now, but I didn’t want you to learn the news that way. I wanted you to hear it from me. When I tell you to put your hand on that red square—” he banked the spacecraft to the right, “—you do it.”

  “Yes, captain.” She saluted and smiled, but the smile was just a reflex. She was scared.

  Aimee could hear it all now. Zak was speaking into an intercom, relaying the exact state of their wounded terra angel. It wasn’t good. If she understood correctly, they were fashioning a net of some kind inside the landing bay. What type of net could corral a vehicle coming in just under the speed of light?

  She traced the inside of her shell and committed the location of the red square to memory in case her eyes were clamped shut when it came time to use it.

  “Okay.” Zak broke into her thoughts. “It won’t be long now. I can see the Horus.”

  Aimee poked her head out to scan the windows on her right. There it was. She had not seen the Horus when they took off. It was magnificent. All the movies about outer space…they came nowhere close to depicting this epic structure.

  Last year she had taken the Summer Science and Engineering program, a four-week class for select high school students across the country. If they had witnessed the construction she was looking at, the curriculum would change for years to come.

  A single pipe-like structure represented the core. This foundation was literally miles long and perhaps a mile or two wide. Size was difficult to gauge in space, but there was no denying the magnitude of the Horus. From that cylindrical foundation, hundreds of little cities protruded, hooked to that pipe with squat, illuminated legs. As they grew closer, she recognized the scores of lateral transports dissecting the surface—a melee of flashing lights. The ship looked jewel-encrusted, shimmering with a million diamonds, each diamond representing a tiny window lit up from inside. Small crafts hovered around the satellite cities, bobbing like boats tethered in the water. One of the satellite cities she could identify. The arced roof was made of glass and the interior was too dark for her to see, but she knew it was the atrium. My God, it was huge.

  “Alright, it’s time,” Zak warned. “You better close your seat now.”

  “But I won’t hear you then,” she hesitated. “I won’t be able to see anything. That will just make me panic more.”

  “You’ll panic, but at least it gives you a better chance to live.”

  Aimee’s palms were damp as she gripped the seat cushion beneath her.

  “What about you? Does your seat close around you? You’re in the front.” Her voice hitched. “You’re going to get the brunt of it.”

  He didn’t answer.

  “Zak?”

  She listened and could hear him talking in low, earnest tones to someone on the ship. They now flew parallel to the Horus. Despite the fact that the ship was so extended, they were eating up re
al estate at a fast pace.

  “Whatever happens, Aimee,” Zak was talking to her and she had the sense that he had concluded his communication with the Horus…that it was just them now. “If there was such a thing as a co-Warrior—” she could hear a slight grin in his voice, “—you wouldn’t be a bad one to have.”

  “Wouldn’t be a bad one? I think I was damn good. I saved your butt, dammit. I single-handedly tackled three giant jungle men—well, the snake or vine tackled them, but still—”

  She realized she was rambling. She could see a gaping hole in the side of the Horus and knew it had to be the landing bay. It looked like a mouth, and it wasn’t smiling.

  “Aimee—”

  There was regret in Zak’s weighty pause, but he had no time to complete the thought.

  “Now. Hit the button now!”

  Aimee slammed her hand down on the red square. The shell began to close and in that dwindling gap she glimpsed a rush of light. Then there was nothing. She was trapped inside a black tomb.

  Chapter Eleven

  This cocoon had to be the closest thing to Hell that she could imagine. It severed all noise—all light—all contact with the outside world. In here the only sound was that of her ragged breath. There was no warning of impact, although she knew from Zak’s last words that it was imminent. She splayed her hands on the inside of the shell to gauge the size of the chamber. It was very tight with little room for her to bounce around if they hit anything. She guessed that was the idea, but eggshells were made to be broken, and slamming into a 100-story skyscraper at the speed of light would likely do the deed.

  “Zak?” she shouted.

  If he answered, she couldn’t hear it. The silence, the unknown, it began to eat at her. Her palms slammed on the inner shell, seeking the release mechanism. She had to get out. She had to—

  Aimee’s forehead cracked into the rigid panel. Her body hefted into the air and hugged the top of the casing and then crashed down hard against the bottom. She cried out in pain as her shoulder slammed into her seat. There was little room to be jostled, but she felt scrambled inside this egg shell. In one final lurch, the force of acceleration splayed her forward so that she hugged the shell like a frog on a screen door. It felt as if her insides were being ripped out through a hole in her back.