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Memories of academy training at Bullstow flooded her thoughts. A quick announcement after physical training. Mats dragged out and spread on the gym floor. The humid air. The smell of sweat from exercise and nerves. The new recruits pacing in drenched workout clothes, hoping their physicals had found them fit enough for the full dose. Their mentors, those they’d be partnered with in their family militias after graduation, loading the tranq dart in front of them. The sting when the tiny dart hit their neck. Falling. The aftermath.
Oh, for oracle’s sake, the aftermath.
Sutton. Sutton shot her.
She had looked just as sympathetic back then, too. Sutton knew what it was like. They all did. Everyone had to go through it at least once. You had to know its effects so that you didn’t start shooting everyone just because they annoyed you. You also had to be healthy enough to take the full dose, or you couldn’t join the militia.
Perhaps it was karma for tranqing so many people lately.
Helen patted her back. “Get it out, you’ll feel better.”
“No, damn it. I’m fine.” Lila pushed away the basin.
“Stubborn child.”
Sutton brought her a glass filled with ice-cold water. Lila accepted it gratefully and gulped down half the glass in one long swallow.
“Your mother nearly had Commander Sutton in a holding cell after they found you.” Helen settled the basin in Lila’s lap.
It was only then that Lila remembered what had happened. Peter Kruger, his guns, and the thoughts that had gone through her head as she lay in the alley. The ancient oracle, invading her dreams while she slept.
She patted her chest, her head, her belly, her neck, but felt no wounds.
“Bullstow would never accept the charges.” Lila gagged again over the basin, knowing she’d be sore from it later. “It didn’t happen on the compound.”
“So you do remember?”
“It’s coming back to me.”
“Well, the chairwoman doesn’t care where it happened,” Sutton said. “She said I should have known something was up when you increased security. I think I’m only alive because she’s trying to decide between handling it privately or orchestrating a very public accident.”
“How long was I out?”
“Only four hours. You were hit with a standard militia tranq dart, but you must have pulled it out before the injector triggered completely. Could be that you won’t get as sick.”
“I should be that lucky.”
“You already are.” Helen rolled her stool next to a computer at her bedside with a loud squeak. She typed a few notes into Lila’s medical records. “Your blood work came back an hour ago. We barely got a blood sample in time to test for tranqs. From what we can tell, you received the standard sedative. There’s no poison in your system.”
Lila breathed out in relief. She hadn’t even considered the possibility.
“How much do you remember?”
“I don’t remember blood.” Lila pointed at Sutton’s sleeve. She hadn’t bothered to hide it.
“Lila, what ha
ppened?”
“I don’t know. I went to go look in on one of the apartment buildings and then…nothing. I don’t remember anything after that.”
“Nothing?” Sutton asked.
Lila shook her head, stalling, lying.
Helen swiveled back to the bed. “It’s not unusual for tranq darts to make the last few moments of consciousness fuzzy, especially after a stressful situation. The memories might come back, but they might not. We’ll just have to wait and see.”
“I was hoping you could tell me more,” the commander said. “It all happened out of range of our cameras, except one of the new ones I installed yesterday afternoon. Unfortunately, I hadn’t finished setting them up, so it’s a miracle that it was even pointed in that direction. All we have is an out-of-focus clip of a man in a peacoat herding you back into the alley. Twenty seconds later, he falls, bleeding.”
