“Copy. Status?”
“Seven down. Two leaving private security hangar One Charlie.”
He lowers a ramp and checks inside. “MONA, confirm life forms aboard.”
“Life forms, none. One, Zariah Landing, on ramp.”
“Go,” he says, pointing up the ramp.
In the dark, I stagger up to the deck and steady myself on a support rail. When I look back at his faint silhouette, his eyes are a startling radiant gold.
He’s not human.
He draws another gun. My heart pounds.
My guard backs up the ramp as three more creatures charge down the hallways toward us. One goes down, then another. The third makes it onto the ramp.
“MONA, undock. Get us out of here! Disregard Ramp Down!” He slaps a flashing button above the ramp.
The ship jolts. Thrusters ignite and whir into a powerful drone. Lights blink on throughout the ship as he sets foot inside. Daylight pours in as we become exposed to the lunar envirodome.
He grabs a strap from the wall without looking and then shoots the last creature. It scrambles to hold on as he kicks it off the back. Then he leans out and watches it fall.
“MONA, take us out of here with the others.” He closes the ramp. “Shields up.”
A blue-green film coats the view of the stars through the windows. But it’s the first clear look I have of him that makes me choke up. He’s covered in blood. Splits cover his face. He’s been stabbed in the side at some point. Or maybe that was a talon from whatever creature had control of me.
I can’t keep myself upright anymore. My knees buckle as the ship falls in line with the others, leaving ABR behind. The skyoutside the ramp has turned a rippling purple. The first ribbons of the space storm have arrived early.
He sighs and helps me into a seat in the back. “Belt in, please.”
I do as he says, but my body feels cold and shaky. The urge to cough overpowers me, but it’s a weak attempt at best and thrusts the taste of blood into my mouth.
“Um—is now a bad time to tell you I don’t feel so good?” I try to say.
He pauses restocking his weapon magazines from a cabinet in the wall, holsters his guns, and looks at me. His eyes widen in fear.
My breaths aren’t as satisfying as I want. Dizziness sweeps through my mind. “Is it bad?”
“Zariah?” He braces me as my body gives out, and I fall into him.
I try to look down at myself, but every breath hurts. I cough and blood splatters uniform. I choke and gag out a “sorry.”
“Oh, stars.” He frantically unstraps and collects me.
I feel so heavy and cold, yet he carries me with a strength I cannot fathom in his condition. He rushes me into another room, where he lays me on a bed under bright lights. My guard—myalienprotector—taps a button. The hard bed rises in an array of pegs that conform to my body and support my aching parts.
“Forgive me for this touch. But you’re going to die if I don’t help.” He tears open the top of my ABR uniform and lowers his head to the puncture in my chest. Warm, wet heat slides into my wound. His hands find the belts on the bed as his tongue massages my chest, spreading a tingling heat through my ribs.
He straps me into place, grabs a tool from a drawer, and places the device against the base of my neck. He twists something, and I feel a pounding sting ricochet through my skull. But it’s nothing compared to the agony in every breath.
I try to inhale from the pang as the device burrows into my flesh. It’s a rattling, wheezing noise instead of a quiet rush of air. I’m too weak to fight, to breathe, to do anything but be absolutely terrified that I’m going to suffocate.
He grabs me and rolls me onto my bad side. I fold up on the bed. “Your good lung is filling up with blood. You need to cough, Zariah. Get it out.”
I try, but it’s a poor gurgling attempt. Bloody drool hangs out of my mouth, and I feel so embarrassed and disgusting that Iwantto die.
He tried so hard. Fought and got hurt for me.
