“You shouldn’t do it at all,” said Abel. “You have any idea how hard it’s going to be to get any more of them out of here without you?”
“What are you talking about,” asked Samantha. “What usual way?”
Chelle smiled sadly. “Not all Dogs that die in the arena stay dead. Abel and I save some of them, like Mercury’s pack brothers.”
“They’re alive?”
“We got them out to the resistance. After I’m gone, Abel will have to find a way to carry on without me, but that will take time. I’m afraid that’s not an option for Mercury and Diablo.”
Samantha didn’t want Chelle to risk anything for her, but she didn’t have a lot of options. “If you can get us all to the port, we can take you with us.”
Chelle smiled like she was dealing with a naïve child. “Let’s focus on getting you out first.”
Two guards burst through the med-center door, dragging a bulky Arena Dog into the facility. Chelle urged them toward a second med-bed. “From the Arena?”
“No,” said one of the guards as they lifted him onto the table. “There was a brawl in one of the kennels. This one is alive, but we can’t get him to come around. He may have a head injury.”
Chelle stepped over to the table, watching as Abel fitted the restraints and strapped the Arena Dog down. “Thank you,” said Chelle to the guards. “We’ll take it from here. You can wait outside.”
The men were barely out the door when Abel released the restraints and the big man on the table pushed up and looked right at Samantha.
Chelle stroked the large man’s arm like she was stroking a pet. “Saber. Thank goodness you’re all right.”
“Mercury and Lo were recaptured?” He spoke without dropping his gaze from Samantha.
“Yes,” said Chelle. “I’m afraid so, but Carn and Hera haven’t been found.”
The man called Saber gently pushed the medic aside and jumped off the table. He approached Samantha like a wild animal approaching an offered treat. She kept still and waited. The medics clearly weren’t afraid of him and he seemed to know Mercury.
“You’re hurt,” she said, choosing to focus on the obvious. “You should let the medics help you.”
He lifted his arms and looked down his torso, crisscrossed with claw marks. Blood welled along the marks. Raising his arms also showed off his lean, muscular frame. His torso was as lean as Mercury’s but those broad shoulders made him seem much bigger.
“This is nothing but scratches,” he said. He big shoulders rolled and he dropped his arms. He stepped closer, bent over her and inhaled deeply. Scenting her, no doubt.
“Who are you?” Saber’s browse wrinkled.
Samantha knew exactly what response she needed to give. Not for him and not for the medics, but for herself. “I’m Mercury’s mate,” she said. “My name is Samantha.”
“You don’t scent of him.” Saber stated it matter-of-factly.
“It was a long journey…and we were separated for most of that.” And she was a fool. That she left unsaid. She pushed up into a sitting position and swung her legs over the side of the bed, grateful that the pain and dizziness didn’t knock her back onto the bed. “Now that we’re acquainted, there’s only one thing I need to know.” She closed her eyes and took a shallow breath before facing him again. “Are you going to help me rescue him?”
“Saber,” said Chelle. “We have to help her. She’s pregnant with his baby.”
Shock painted his face a shade lighter. “Does he know?”
“No,” said Chelle. The medic stepped over to a counter and started preparing two dosing-wands. “Drake will be here any moment to escort her into the stands and I’m supposed to make sure the match doesn’t go well for Mercury and Lo. I’m replacing the usual drugs with a performance booster, but I’m not sure what else to do.” The medic shoved the two prefilled wands into the big pockets of her white coat. “I’ll do whatever I can to help.”
“There’s no way to get any help this quickly,” said Abel.
“Oh,” said Samantha. “Rachel. She’s in trouble. They know she’s working for the resistance.”
Abel nodded. “I’ll try to warn her.”
The big Arena Dog sucked in a breath and released it in a loud huff. “Go with Drake. I’ll do what I can to help your mate get up into the stands. I can do nothing beyond that.”
“I understand. Thank you. Thank all of you.”
Saber climbed back onto the bed and Chelle returned to Samantha’s side. She held up a small instrument. “I’m going to insert a sub-dermal data-slip in your arm. It has information that will help you contact Haven.”
“Haven?”
“It’s the base of operations for the resistance. I don’t know more than that.”
“How do I know this isn’t a tracker?”
“You can trust her,” grumbled Saber. “She has freed many of our kind.”
Samantha nodded then held still and Chelle touched the instrument to the soft tissue on the inside of her arm. When she’d finished, she wrapped her arm around Samantha’s waist. “Can you stand?”
Samantha pushed her legs over the edge of the med-bed and borrowed some of Chelle’s strength to get to her feet.
“Well done. Now let’s go wait for Drake in the hall so Abel won’t have to put Saber’s restraints back on. He hates that.”
Chelle’s calm unnerved Samantha. She supposed it took guts to work as an undercover operative in a place like Roma, but her Zen-like state seemed almost inhuman.
“Samantha,” Saber’s growly voice stopped her speculation and she looked over her shoulder to where he sat on the med-bed.
“Yes?”
“Mercury,” he said, “chose his mate well.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
RomaRex Arena, Roma
Earth Alliance Beta Sector
2210.185
Drake tugged Samantha up the ramp toward the light and noise beyond the end of the tunnel. It should have been evening, but she blinked at the brightness as they emerged into what looked like mid-afternoon.
“Doesn’t it ever get dark around here?”
“Sure. But right here, not until after the games. Look.” Drake pointed at the sky.
She hadn’t expected a real answer, but her gaze followed the line of his arm up to the bright blue dome overhead. She couldn’t see the horizon. They weren’t high enough in the stands. But she could see the imitation sky began to fade to a pale purple beyond the reaches of the arena. “Owens must feel like a god around here.”
Drake dropped his arm and shoved her toward a transparent polycarbonate wall. “Owens and the other owners are gods on Roma.”
Beyond the barrier she could see the sandy oval and the throngs of people crowded into the stands. Some areas were packed tight with people, while others were fitted with semicircles of luxury. She looked back to the arena floor, dreading the moment when she’d see Mercury and Lo out there. She could see areas where the sand had been stained a ruddy brown with blood during earlier matches. Near the center, the remains of some sort of cart had been spilled over and twisted into shards of painted metal.
“Showtime,” said Drake.
Samantha blinked as the light intensified around them. She looked up to see that directly above the blue dome had brightened into a white so bright it gave the effect of a spotlight. Drake turned his back to the wall and lifted his gaze as an amplified voice called for attention from every speaker around the arena.
Samantha turned, too. The next level up sat about two meters back. The transparent barrier sat in a gilded frame and beyond it, Grande Owens stood next to a man in what could only be described as a toga. Above that, a large screen showed vid of the men standing many meters tall. A hush spread through the crowd like a wave drowning the voices in silence.
“Good friends of Roma, we have a special event for you tonight! I’m sure you’ve all heard the rumors that House Owens lost some of its gladiators…and not in the usual way.”
>
Pockets of laughter exploded in the audience.
“We’re here to bring a close to this badly-handled publicity stunt. I bring to you, the Master of House Owens himself… Grande Owens!”
The toga draped man stepped back and Owens stepped forward, bringing his hand down for quiet.
“You may know,” he said. “That I’m known for having a bit of a competitive nature, as do all the Heads. Perhaps this time we oversold our storyline a bit.” Sprinkles of laughter followed his attempt at humor. “But never let it be said that House Owens doesn’t do things in a big way.”
This time the laughter sprang up like weeds after a rain, covering the crowd in giggles and half formed laughs.
“Let me start by introducing you to the woman we hired to play the part of our thief…the half-human–half-alien actress, Samantha Devlin.
Suddenly, Samantha’s face appeared on the screen and she was standing alone. Alone with Drake and two burly looking guards standing just out of the light.
The crowds roared, half cheering, half booing.
She still wore the guard’s uniform Rachel had left for her in the underground tunnel to the Juvenile Center. That had to add credence to his claims. Owens might be willing to cover up much of the truth of what happened, but he intended to ensure her secrets were out.
The light shifted and Drake stepped up beside her, his smile that of a sand-viper after striking prey, waiting for the poisonous venom to take effect.
“And for our match tonight,” continued Owens. “We have two of our...missing…gladiators!”
Cheers swelled louder, this time all in complete accord. They wanted to be entertained.
“I give you a death match,” said Owens. “Mercury and Diablo against the behemoth champion of House Bonita!”
The large screen shifted to the arena floor and a darkened tunnel. The crowd’s cheers spiked, creating a cacophony that seemed sure to shatter the structure of the city’s dome.
Drake jerked her around to once again face the center of the arena. At eye level a three-dimensional holo projection flickered to life. Hanging in the air above the arena floor, a large holographic projection showed Lo and Mercury. The mammoth structure of light being projected from various points in the arena ensured everyone would see the action of the match in 3D as it happened.
Samantha scanned the arena floor and found them where they had just emerged from a tunnel directly below where she and Drake stood. Mercury and Lo jogged toward the center of the oval.
Heavy chains shackled their feet, but not so much that they couldn’t keep the easy pace. Running, however, would be out of the question. A leather binding strapped Mercury’s right forearm to Lo’s left.
Panic began to eat at the edges of her thoughts. She couldn’t stand by and watch them die. She had to do something. “Why are they chained?”
Drake smiled with a trace of pride. “Because independent freedom of movement would be enough to give them the match. Even a behemoth couldn’t survive against those two.”
She considered asking, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to know what exactly a behemoth was. And then she didn’t need to ask. From further down the arena wall, a large creature lumbered into the light. Its legs were short and thick. Its long arms ended in blocky hands that touched the ground when it stooped forward. It wore leggings and a tunic, making it horrifically clear it wasn’t just a beast. It also had intelligence. Intelligence and size. Dust flew up around it with every step, creating a cloud of sand that would irritate his opponents’ eyes and hinder their breathing. Short bony horns sprouted from it skull.
“Roma created it.” Samantha could hardly believe it. She wanted Drake to deny the obvious.
“You didn’t think they would try only one DNA combination did you? What would the arena be without beasts to slay?” Drake stroked the narrow beard that hugged his chin. “They didn’t have any tigers or elephants handy. Those creatures have been extinct for centuries.”
In the arena Mercury and Lo climbed through the wreckage of the cart. The crowd had taken up a chant. “Fight, fight, fight…”
“Idiot crowd. They think the Dogs are trying to hide.” Drake chuckled. “Owens should have had that chariot wreck cleaned up before the match. They’ll find a way to use the sheared metal to cut up the champion.”
The boasting tone of his voice shocked her. “You’re proud of them.”
“Mercury and Diablo? Of course. If they weren’t drugged they might even have a chance to win.”
A spark of hope flared. If Chelle managed to switch out the drugs they might survive. But for what? More slavery? An execution? “Is that all you care about? Winning?”
“It’s all I can afford to care about.”
Drake was right about Mercury’s tactics. The behemoth had been steadily swinging at them and getting sliced up in the process. The beast managed to swing through a chunk of the wreck and caught Lo in the head.
Samantha gasped. Her heart beat like a hyper-motor, ready to speed out of her chest at any moment. She leaned against the wall for support as her legs quaked. This had to stop.
It had to stop before she lost one or both of the men she loved. Stars, she loved them. Both of them.
Her heart wouldn’t slow. Her stomach cramped with fear. Frantic, she searched for someone familiar in the sea of faces. If wanting could make something happen, there would be an army of help in that crowd, but she knew Captain Artane too well. The captain wouldn’t risk her crew in what could be branded an open act of terrorism. Artane had plenty of courage, but she wasn’t foolish and she took her responsibility to her crew seriously. No, Samantha wouldn’t find help in that direction.
The crowd drew in a collective gasp. She jerked her gaze back to the arena floor. Mercury and Lo were wrapped around the beast’s back. Out of its reach, they jabbed at it with relentless repetition.
The creature turned in a circle—a macabre dance—as it bled from dozens of cuts and punctures. Suddenly, it reared up with a roar and rammed backward into the wreckage. All three went down in a heap amidst the twisted metal.
Mercury and Lo climbed free of the tangle while the behemoth still struggled.
“They should be getting weaker.” Drake’s confusion added another spark to the quietly building fire of hope in Samantha’s belly.
She put a hand over the spot. Was she truly pregnant?
Motion drew her gaze to the guards standing to the side and to the crowds beyond them.
Knock!
His face came into focus as he slipped back into the crowd and disappeared. She looked away, not wanting to draw attention. Knock was out there, waiting for an opportunity to help.
The noise in the arena spiked and more guards spilled out of the tunnel below where she and Drake stood. In the center of the arena, the behemoth lay unmoving. Mercury and Lo climbed to their feet, leaning heavily on one another. “They won.”
“Fuck!” Drake grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the tunnel they’d emerged from before the match. She looked up catching site of Grande Owens beaming out at the arena with a smile too wide to be anything but forced. As they headed into the tunnel, the roar of the chanting crowd followed them. “Live, live, live…”
More guards waited at the distant end of the tunnel and she realized this was not the direction she wanted to go. Mercury and Lo were in the arena and Knock was somewhere in the crowd. Samantha balled her hands one over the other and swung hard for Drake’s face. Smack.
“Bitch!” Momentarily stunned Drake released her to pinch his nose as blood spurted out in a dripping mess. Surprise must have been on her side. She had no intention of wasting the advantage. She dug in her heels and ran back out into the light. The guards that had been holding off the crowds lay at Knock’s feet.
“Come on.” He held out his hand.
Samantha grabbed for it and let him pull her through the noisy, distracted crowd.
They were half way around the oval when he started to drag her toward
an exit tunnel.
“No!” She screamed to be heard over the chanters. “I’m not leaving them.”
He grinned. “I know. I’ve got some equipment near the opening of this tunnel. Cutting tools to get us through the barrier and climbing gear to get them up into the crowd.”
She wanted to hug him, but they were already running toward the small space between the tunnel archway and the adjacent seating area. The entire arena was on its feet, so no one paid any attention to them.
Knock reached into the shadows and pulled out a colorful bag. He pulled the strap over his head and settled it diagonally across his chest. He slapped a cutting laser into her hand and she sprinted to the nearest section of polycarb. The cutter hissed to life in her hand as she heard a shout of alarm.
She ignored it and kept cutting.
As she worked, the arena floor was a blur beyond her focus, but she could tell hell had spilled onto the sand. A battle between Dogs and guards played out for the entire arena to see.
“Maybe now they’re entertained,” she muttered as she worked.
She slid along the barrier then started the next cut. Beside her, Knock struggled with an unwieldy bolt-hammer in one hand and a plasma pistol in the other. The audience around them scattered, scrambling for cover or the nearest exit. Guards came at them from every direction, but most carried stun-sticks or shock-whips, not pistols, and none were close enough to stop them…yet.
The instant she completed her cut, Samantha rocketed to her feet. She grabbed the bolt-hammer, positioned it, stepped on the anchor points, and leaned her weight into it. She pulled the trigger. The recoil, as the preloaded bolt drilled into the walkway, reverberated through her muscles and nearly threw her off her feet. She shoved aside the heavy piece of equipment and took the rope and gloves Knock pushed into her hands.
She dropped to her ass and started rigging the rope to the bolt. Time seemed to crawl and she was sure the guards would be on them any minute, but experience told her they’d managed the whole process in under ninety seconds. She’d cut into dozens of hulls in her day and the rest hadn’t been much different than setting up a freight tie down, something they’d both done a hundred times. The rope had come out of the bag connected to an auto-repel, so setting that up took no time at all.
Stealing Mercury (Arena Dogs Book 1) Page 30