“Then you better call them off.”
We followed the corridor to the lobby, but before I could find the stairs, one of the guards I’d met in the forest came through the front door.
“Stop right there!” I shouted, pushing Mitchell’s head to one side with the barrel of the gun.
The guard froze, holding out his hand. “Just take it easy.”
I sidestepped along the wall, towing Mitchell with me.
As I burned through my adrenaline I began to realize how crazy this was. Me, two pistols, and two sprigs of a deadly poisonous herb, against—how many guards had Peter said? Thirty?
Another guard came in behind the first, hand reaching for his weapon.
Mitchell suddenly wrenched to one side and I lost my grip on her.
A gun went off and I felt the slug rip into my shoulder, throwing me against the wall. I yelped and slid to the floor, fire blazing in my shoulder.
Mitchell snatched up my gun. She jammed the muzzle against my head.
“Is John dead?” she demanded.
“For the moment,” I forced through gritted teeth. I could feel the other gun digging into my back, but I’d never get it fast enough.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
I glowered up at her. “You’ll find out soon enough.”
Her eyes narrowed and she muttered darkly, “You people are a malignancy.”
The world stopped spinning as I watched the infinitesimal motion of her finger on the trigger. I squeezed my eyes shut, scared and heartbroken, thinking about what would die with me, and what I was leaving behind.
“Lock her up with the others,” Mitchell ordered, lowering the gun. “I’m going to check on John.”
I didn’t even have time to start breathing again—pain flamed down my arm as the guards grabbed me and dragged me down a flight of stairs. The stairwell opened into a small room with a single door. Two security guards were at the base of the stairs and two others stood on either side of the door.
“What’s going on up there?” one called to us.
“This one tried to play hero and got herself shot. Open the door.”
One of the guards at the door moved a hand over its touchpad, shouting, “Everyone back! Anyone standing in front of this door when I open it gets a bullet!”
The other guard trained his weapon on the door, grumbling, “This is no way to confine prisoners.”
The door flew open and the men holding me thrust me inside.
Reeling from the pain in my shoulder, I plunged into such a commotion of bodies and voices I couldn’t make sense of it at first.
“Julia, she’s bleeding!”
Murphy! Relief flooded through me like a dose of morphine.
He knelt beside me, scooped an arm under my shoulders, and lifted me gently. “What’s happened to you?” His voice was raw and urgent.
I lifted a hand to his cheek. “You’re alive!”
“Julia!” he repeated, glancing up.
“I’m here.” She sank down on my other side. “Lay her flat, Murphy.”
He lowered me gently and took hold of my hand, squeezing as Julia probed my injured shoulder. My eyes watered as the pain spiked again.
“The bullet went all the way through,” she said. “It needs to be cleaned and dressed, but at least the bleeding has stopped.”
Ian had moved beside her and she took hold of his shirt. “I need this.”
He took it off and she tore it into pieces, using it to bind the wound and fashion a makeshift sling. “This is the best I can do for now. She’ll be all right if we can get her out of here soon.”
Murphy’s hand caressed my cheek. “What are you doing here, love?” he breathed.
“Rescuing you. How am I doing?”
A smile spread over his face. But my own smile evaporated as a familiar face appeared just above his shoulder. I blinked a couple times, certain I was hallucinating.
Lex let a hand fall on Murphy’s shoulder, and I stiffened as the emotion flowed from her, through Murphy, to me. She was bitterly disappointed by my sudden appearance. I could feel how threatened she was by me—how I excited her competitive impulses. And behind that lurked something darker—this woman despised me for being unworthy of Murphy. I knew he could feel this too, and it made me feel small and humiliated.
“Give us some space, Lex,” Murphy said curtly.
She didn’t comply right away and Ian warned her, “They’re empathic when they’re together. You’re sharing all your secrets.”
Lex jerked away like she’d been burned.
Weakened by blood loss and pain, and now by uncertainty, my eyes moved over Murphy’s face. Tears of anger and confusion welled.
He bent closer to me, his expression soft. One hand slipped under me, raising me again, and the other cradled my head. He pressed his lips against mine, giving me the kind of kiss he usually reserved for when we were alone. I reached around with my good arm to clutch at his back.
“Mmm,” I sighed, as he drew back.
He supported me so I could sit up. Then he glanced at Lex. “I don’t take lightly what you sacrificed to come looking for me. But if you can’t respect Elizabeth, we can’t be friends.”
She moved away before I could see her reaction.
“How many guards out there, love?” Murphy asked.
“Four, I think.”
“Are the rest of them upstairs?” asked Ian.
I shook my head. “No, I haven’t seen any others.” I remembered something Mitchell had said when I first arrived. “They may be up in the woods looking for more of us.”
“This is the time, then,” said Ian, “before they come back.”
Murphy gave a short nod. “We still have to figure out how to get through that door without getting shot.”
One of the guards yelled from outside, threatening us to stay back while they opened the door again.
“Put your arms around me, Murphy!”
He looked confused, but he did it, and I felt his hand bump against the pistol in my waistband. Concealed behind my sweater, the guards hadn’t seen it.
“Ah, that’s my girl,” he whispered.
The door opened and he slipped the pistol free. Turning to Ian, he said, “Be ready.”
“Get up, Elizabeth,” the guard ordered, pointing his gun at me. “Mitchell wants to talk to you.”
“She’s lost a lot of blood,” said Murphy, hiding the gun behind my back. “I don’t think she can walk.”
“It’s a shoulder wound,” barked the guard. “Stop fucking around.”
I could feel the tension of two dozen people coiling to strike. Behind the guard I saw three others, their guns drawn and waiting. People were going to get hurt. There was no avoiding it.
“Wait,” Julia whispered. I saw she was gripping both of Ian’s hands. “It’s no different than the garden.”
Ian’s eyes went wide with surprise. “Julia! I think it’s—”
“Move now or I’ll shoot you both!” ordered the guard.
“It’s coming!” cried Julia.
The guard toppled over as something shot straight out of the floor under his feet. Murphy spun around, aiming the gun, but there was no one to shoot. A tree trunk rocketed toward the ceiling, expanding—growing—before our eyes. The guards shouted in fear as it burst through the ceiling and continued up, snapping beams and battering through mortar.
“Let’s go!” called Murphy.
The floor beneath us quaked as we stumbled for the door. He slipped carefully past the still-expanding trunk, checking the next room.
“They’ve gone, come on!”
He reached for me, taking hold of my good arm and pulling me through the partially collapsed wall. We hit the stairs running, chunks of plaster raining down on our heads. Ian, Julia, and the others followed close behind.
By the time we reached the top of the stairs, the tree’s ascent had slowed, but branches shot out of the trunk like spears, filling out with f
oliage as they extended. With a crack like a gunshot, another trunk shot through the floor not three meters away.
“Go!” cried Ian. “We can’t control it!”
We raced through the lobby and down the front steps.
But I stopped at the bottom and turned back. I could hear voices of people inside—voices of people afraid the building was coming down around their ears. Sarah and her brother started down the steps, helping a wounded Yasmina.
“Sarah, where does Mitchell keep the pairs she’s trying to detach?”
She nodded back toward the building. “East wing. Locked in the rooms. Mitchell converted them to cells.”
“Shit!”
I started back up the steps just as a third tree burst through the floor.
Murphy grabbed my hand. “Go with Sarah. I’ll go back for the others.”
“Murphy—”
He put his hand over my mouth. “You’re wasting time. Find Ian and Julia. Tell them we need them to try and stop this. I’ll see you soon.”
“I’ll come too,” said Sarah, transferring Yasmina to Zack. “There should be extra keys at the guards’ station.”
“Be careful!” Yasmina and I shouted as Sarah and Murphy ran up the steps.
Yasmina had been shot in the leg. As I stood trying to figure out how I could help Zack move her with my wounded shoulder, he scooped her up in his arms.
The three of us followed a lantern-lit path away from the main building and toward the rest of our group. They’d gathered on a knoll near the forest. As we crested the hill, our eyes fell on the facility’s whole host of guards just on the other side, their weapons drawn and aimed.
Mitchell stood to one side. A dazed-looking old woman sat near her on the grass. It dawned on me that this was her ghost—it was the first time I’d ever seen her.
A number of the guards cast frightened glances toward the building, which now had three cedar trees sprouting through the roof. Something dark crept across the well-lit façade, making it appear the building was being erased by the night. Soon the building’s front was obscured by some kind of leafy vine.
“Julia!” I called, scanning the group on the grass. “Do you think you can stop this? Murphy and Sarah are still inside.”
“We’re trying, but we’ve never—”
The wind gusted suddenly, tossing the topmost branches of the trees, and the building groaned loudly as a section of the roof collapsed.
I gave a cry of alarm and turned to run back.
A shot fired and a lantern exploded right next to my head.
“Take it easy!” I heard Ian shout angrily.
“I don’t want you to move again, Elizabeth,” Mitchell said coldly. “Your value to me is diminishing by the—”
It wasn’t clear at first why she’d broken off, but I was still facing the building as people began to trickle out the entrance. The man at the front of the group carried an unconscious woman in his arms.
“John!” cried Mitchell.
I staggered backward as Ardagh drew up even with me.
“Can you tell me where I am? I can’t seem to…” He trailed off, confused. There was no flicker of recognition in his gaze. “I think my wife is injured. I can’t wake her.”
A regenerated John. I didn’t know what to say to him. I even felt a stirring of sympathy for his confusion.
“Thank God you’re okay,” Mitchell breathed. “As soon as I get these people sorted out, we’ll talk.”
She continued to reassure Ardagh, but I no longer heard her. I had a lot of practice listening for transports. The people in our camp were probably more tuned in to that sound than anyone on the planet. I think this time I knew it before even the faintest engine rumble.
But I wanted Mitchell and her people in the dark as long as possible.
I turned to her, calling, “You don’t get it, do you?”
Her gaze darted to me.
“I’m surprised at you. But I guess even brain scientists have blind spots. Ardagh is a ghost, Maria. The original Ardagh died the day he arrived on the planet.”
I watched her expression shift from angry disbelief to horror as it clicked into place.
“The first Ardagh ghost deceived you. Used you. He wanted you to figure out detachment so he could take the planet away from the colonists.”
Both sides were standing tense, awaiting Mitchell’s next move. But Mitchell, for once, stood speechless, frozen with shock.
“Over here, baby!” Yasmina’s cry canceled the silence, and the transport swept in over the trio of cedars.
The ship bypassed the landing pad and swung in above us, hanging like a hoverlift.
The cargo door dropped open and Garvey yelled over the engines, “Steady now, Yas … my ass is hanging out the back door here.”
Yasmina lay back in the grass, her gaze trained on the transport. “I’ve got her!”
A few of the guards raised their guns and fired.
“Do it, Garvey!” cried Yasmina. “Before they hurt my ship!”
“Oh, don’t worry about me any!” he shouted back. “The one with skin instead of sheet metal!”
A red beam washed over the face of one of our guards, and all of them scattered as we heard a rush of air, followed by a loud thud and explosion of earth.
“I didn’t have to miss! You assholes better drop your guns!”
“Hold onto your weapons,” ordered Mitchell. “Somebody shoot that man!”
Garvey yelled, “I’m not fucking kidding!” There was another whoosh and thud and explosion of earth, and this time a body flew off toward the forest and the guards threw down their weapons. Our people hurried in to collect them.
The transport hovered a few moments more before lifting again. As I followed its movement toward the landing pad, I saw Murphy coming down the path and I ran to meet him.
“The place is empty,” he panted. “Feels like a storm’s coming. Let’s grab Mitchell and get the hell out of here. We’ll figure out what to do with her when we get back to camp.”
God, it was starting to look like we’d won. I threw my good arm around his neck.
He laughed and held me close, lifting me off my feet. “I thought you were never going to forgive me.”
Before I could answer, Murphy shoved me to the ground, knocking the breath out of me.
In the same heartbeat a shot fired. Then another. Someone yelled, “Get her fucking gun!”
Murphy fell across me and there was a confusion of cries and shouting.
“Lift him off her!” Ian shouted.
As his body rolled away from me, I realized my shirt was soaked with blood. I scrambled to his side and Julia lifted his shirt. Blood welled from a hole in his stomach, like a river overrunning its banks.
“Oh God!” I dug Peter’s watch out of my pocket, fumbling with it until the light came on. Ian took it from me and held it for Julia.
“Love—” Murphy gasped.
I leaned close to him, laying a shaking hand across his brow. “Shhh. You’re going to be okay.”
“The baby … you…?”
“We’re fine,” I replied, choking on the words. “Stay with me.”
His chin tipped back as he struggled to breathe. He rolled his head toward me, pleading with his eyes, and I understood what he needed.
I gulped down the sobs that wanted to explode from my throat. “He’s always in my thoughts, Murphy. I can’t wait to meet him.” Why had I waited until now to reassure him about this? I bent and kissed his lips. “I hope he has your eyes.”
Murphy smiled, and then his face went slack.
Tears streamed down my face, wetting his, and I cradled his head in my hands. “Don’t don’t don’t!”
Julia looked at me, her face bleak with grief. “The bullet hit his spleen.” Her voice broke and she shook her head.
Lex had sunk down beside Julia, sobbing and clinging to Murphy’s hand, and the strangest, most inappropriate thoughts invaded my mind.
You have no rig
ht! He’s not yours! I’m the only one who can …
SAVE HIM.
“Out of the way!” I cried.
Julia gave me a dismayed, sympathetic look, but she grabbed Lex’s arm and dragged her away.
I stretched out beside him and wrapped my body around his. He was so cold. His arms moved limply as I worked my hands under them.
Pushing every thought from my mind, I tried to open our connection.
An Ending
Cold. Dark. Nothing. Where was the warm pulse of energy? The embrace of light?
I squeezed him hard, trying to force my body into the same space as his. My heat and light merged with his cold dark nothing. I could no longer feel my hands against his flesh. My hands were his hands. His flesh was my flesh.
My heart was his heart. And my heart was beating.
Take my blood. Take my life. Come back to me.
Elizabeth, love.
Murphy! Come back to me!
Always. I’m with you always …
Home
A chorus of heartbeats. Two slow, two fast. They pulsed behind my eyelids. Sounded in my head.
My lids grated like sandpaper as I opened my eyes. I blinked a couple of times in the low light.
I breathed deeply, letting his smell fill me. My cheek was pressed against his chest.
Murphy’s chest.
I wriggled a little, reassuring myself he was solid and real, and felt a tickling along my arm. My eyes darted down to a tube running out of me. Murphy had one too.
Gasping, I tried to sit up. Had we gone back to the institute?
“Take it easy,” urged a woman’s voice. Too kind to be Mitchell’s.
“Julia?”
“Yes, it’s me.” She bent over the bed, smoothing hair back from my face. “The tube is for fluids. Electrolytes. You’ve been asleep for two days.”
Two days? “Is Murphy okay?”
“He’s fine. Everyone is fine. But I want you to sit up and drink some broth if you can.”
She crossed the room to a counter, pouring something steamy from a kettle into a mug. I glanced around, trying to get my bearings. There were more beds, and shelves lined with medical supplies. Our bed seemed to actually be two beds strapped together. I realized I’d been in this room before—the clinic at Devil’s Rock.
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