Lunging for Zane’s discarded pulser, she hit a puddle of blood and rolled.Tap. Tap.The pulser didn’t recoil. As blasts screamed towards the legionnaires, a bolt tore through a man’s shoulder.
The other lunged. Kalie fired off six shots, and a blast connected. He crumpled. Steam oozed from a crater in his chest.
“Dammit, run!” Zane roared.
She pulled his arm over her shoulders and hauled him up, clenching her teeth against the cry that threatened to tear from her throat. He was heavy. Too heavy. He limped along beside her, wincing with each step, but they were moving too slow.
Blasts shrieked around them, and Kalie’s chest heaved as she glanced over her shoulder?—
Her eyes widened.
She tried to lunge, but Zane’s arm held her in place.
There was no time to scream as the flash of red slammed into her. There was only an endless sea of burning pain, as the world splintered into fiery agony.
They were falling,falling, and the stench of scorched flesh flooded Zane’s senses. Vibrations shot up his legs as Kalie’s head struck the floor. Screaming. Someone was screaming. Was that him? Kalie’s blood soaked his hands. He needed to staunch the wound. It had ripped through her thigh, and the blast should’ve cauterized it, but it must’ve nicked the femoral—holy Mordir, there was so much blood…
Get to a ship.
Flames streaked across the hull of the silver shuttle. The ramp was lowered. Thrusters rumbled.
Pulsers wailed behind him. Gasping, Zane twisted around. Excruciating pain ripped through his sides, his back. But—there. Reinforcements. Praetors, firing at the legionnaires.
A diversion.
Hooking his arms under Kalie’s, Zane dragged her towards the ramp. His burning leg threatened to give out, and black spots covered his vision. As he clenched his teeth and staggered up the cargo ramp, Kalie’s blood trailed behind them. His legs gave out at the top of the ramp, but he pushed himself up on trembling arms.
He couldn’t rest yet. Kalie was in danger. They needed to get out of here.
Zane punched the button to raise the cargo ramp. Staggering into the cockpit, he grabbed the controls, smearing the blood on his hands—Kalie’sblood—across the panel.
His pulse thrummed in his ears as he stared at the scarlet streaks. He needed to help her, he couldn’t let this happen again…
But a tourniquet wouldn’t do much good if they got blasted to pieces.
The radar wailed, flashing red. Zane rammed the levers forward, and the ship burst out of the hangar bay.
They plunged into the burnt orange sky. As Zane glanced at the radar, his blood turned to ice. Three destroyers hovered in front of the Etovian stargate, and four more had appeared over Etov’s neighboring planets. He needed to get to a gate, but the closest one was over Renan, an hour away, on the other side of the Etovian system.
Kalie’s cry made his heart stop. He tapped Renan on the nav chart, hit the autopilot button, and ran to her. Sweat covered her face. Pain scrunched her features. She pressed her hands to the wound, but blood gushed between her fingers.
“Zane…”
Her voice was scarcely a whimper as she squeezed her eyes shut. Blood pooled around his knees and soaked his shoes.
The world flashed, and Lysa was falling. He screamed and crawled to her side. Sticky blood coated his shins as Lysa gasped for air. Her hands fumbled with a gaping wound.
“Medic!”he roared.“Medic!”
His vision blurred. Kalie laid in a pool of blood on Oppalli, then Lysa was slumped in front of him on the ship.
He shook his head. This wasn’t Oppalli. Kalie was not Lysa.
Banishing the fire and smoke to the depths of his memory, Zane peeled his bloody shirt off. Staunching the wound was the first priority, so he pressed the bundle of fabric against her bleeding thigh and put Kalie’s hands on top of it. “Keep pressure on this.”
He bolted to the cockpit and rifled through compartments. Energy cells, food rations…come on… cables… a first aid kit. He tugged it open.
Bandages and saline solution.
