Page 13

What was that?

I walked toward the sound. Goats might have had survival instincts, but maybe humans didn’t. I spotted a drone hovering several dozen feet down the road.

It was smaller than I expected, a dark metal body with three narrow arms extending around it. Each arm held a rotor inside a protective ring, though the spinning blades moved too quickly for me to see. A round piece of black glass sat beneath the center.

A gust pushed at my back and sent grit skipping across the road. The drone tilted, corrected, and held its position.

The drone shot sideways, stopped, and streaked back across the road. It repeated the movement at different heights, skimming over the bushes before snapping upward. No pilot stood nearby. There wasn’t a building or vehicle anywhere beyond it.

It moved too deliberately to be damaged and too fast for me to follow without turning my whole head.

The little machine hung perfectly still in the middle of the road. Its rotors screamed while the black glass underneath rotated toward me.

I couldn’t move. On instinct, I reached into my pocket for my phone but came up empty. There were no phones on Ceres-9, and I didn’t have a way to take a video so I could show somebody what I was seeing later.

A light on the device blinked, and though it was just a machine, I could swear it was staring at me.

The buzzing got louder. It charged, beeping wildly as it zoomed toward me.

I screamed and threw myself sideways. The drone changed direction with me. I ran for the farm, bottles crashing together with every step while the strap bit into my shoulder.

I shoved one hand into the open bag and grabbed the first bottle my fingers touched. I threw it over my shoulder without looking. Glass shattered somewhere behind me, but the drone’s whine never faltered.

It shot past my shoulder close enough for the air from its rotors to whip my hair across my face. Before I could turn, it climbed, swung around in a tight arc, and lined itself up with my back again.

The mechanical shriek grew louder behind me. I risked one look back and nearly tripped. It was already close enough for me to see scratches across the black glass.

I ran harder. Gravel slid beneath my boots, and the bag slammed against my hip. The drone didn’t slow. Its shadow swept over the road beside mine and crept forward.

There was nowhere to hide. The bushes were too low, the nearest tree was across the fence, and I would never reach the barn. I veered toward the ditch. The drone followed.

A roar came from my left.

Something hit me around the waist and lifted me off my feet. I landed in the shallow ditch with Rauf’s arm locked around me and his shoulder taking the worst of the fall. The drone sliced through the space where my chest had been.

Rauf rolled us before I could suck in a breath. His body came down over mine, heavy and hot, shielding me from the road. He braced one forearm beside my head and curved the other around it. The drone screamed past again.

For one terrified second, all I could feel was him. His chest pressed mine into the damp earth. One of his thighs had landed between my legs, and every breath dragged more of that hard body against me.

I was scared. I was also horribly, inconveniently aware of Rauf’s mouth a few inches from mine and the heat of him everywhere else. I wanted to kiss him, even with that machine circling back toward us.

My hands had caught against his chest. I should have pushed him up so I could breathe. Instead, my fingers curled into his shirt. Rauf lifted his head, not looking at me but searching the road for the drone, and his breath moved hot across my cheek.

The buzzing climbed behind him. He shifted onto his knees and twisted toward the sound, hands coming up.

Rauf jerked back, and all I could hear was the angry sound of metal and plastic being destroyed in giant minotaur hands.

Pieces of black casing fell into the ditch around us. One bent rotor landed near my shoulder, still spinning, and dug a shallow circle into the damp earth before it stopped. The sharp smell of scorched wiring filled the air.

Rauf opened his fist. What remained of the drone’s central body dropped beside the rotor with a quiet crunch.

He jerked his head back to me, and his horns almost brushed against my face.

“Are you all right?” he demanded.

I couldn’t catch my breath. My chest was heaving. Words felt all caught in my throat, and I wasn’t sure what to say.

“What are you doing out here?” he asked when I couldn’t answer.