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Tame, ha!
If I recall correctly, the last few days have been anything but tame. I peek my head out of the door of my room to have a better listen.
“I don’t want to tame any of them,” Oz replies. “Maybe I’m the one who needs to be tamed.”
“You dirty mortarekker. What do you…no, never mind. I don’t want to know. Don’t traumatize the females if and when you do meet them.”
“I promise. Unless they want me to.”
Oookay. I’m not going near that with a ten-foot pole, I decide, and step away from the doorway where I’ve been eavesdropping. Thankfully, Avrell hasn’t made it to the ship yet, so Oz and Theron will be none the wiser. It wasn’t that creepy to listen to them. It was just fascinating. I still can’t believe there have been people on Mortuus, as they call it, all this time. Strange, evolved, alien people. The bigwigs back at Earth II will crap their pants if they learn about it.
Which I don’t want to think about.
The thought of their trigger-happy generals learning about an alien race on the planet they hoped to reinhabit fills my stomach with dread. What if that’s the ship we saw? Since we’ve taken over the prison, they have to be curious about why there haven’t been any comms from the guards or wardens. If we’re lucky, maybe they’ll count the whole experiment as a loss. Most of the people on Earth II thought Earth and Exilium was a crapshoot anyway. The planet had been so thoroughly destroyed by our ancestors, no one thought we’d be able to go back. That’s why being sentenced to a prison planet was basically a death sentence. In fact, to some, death would have been preferable.
To me, anything was better than the waste and decay of Earth II, where the only way to survive was to compromise yourself to the whims of those in power.
I’d choose Exilium, Mortuus, and these aliens over my old life any day…and I’m starting to think I’d choose Theron above it all.
Feeling restless, I walk from my room to the decontamination bay doors. On the other side is a small storage room where Theron and Oz are loading supplies. He keeps on his suit and mask that’s already been decontaminated, and he’ll go through the sanitizing process all over again before reentering the Facility to ensure no germs will be transferred. The morts may be anal, but after what I’ve seen The Rades do, I don’t blame them one bit.
Avrell, their doctor, appears in the doorway of the supplies room suited up like Oz and begins talking to them. I think of Zoe ranting about him and smile to myself. She’s going to love it when he gets to the prison. I wish we had some popcorn, because it’ll be a sight to see. Zoe is our resident nurse-elect and she and Avrell are going to treat The Rades outbreak and train Zoe in case of future infections.
I wish I could bring my mom along and spend the next four days as we travel getting to know her again. I want to hear everything she’s been doing since she got to Mortuus. And I especially want to learn more about her mate, Draven. For the life of me, I can’t figure out why she wants to be with someone so big and intimidating after being with my father, who was equally terrifying, but maybe there is something I’m missing about him. Maybe he’s a big teddy bear inside. Somehow, I doubt that, but I’m willing to give him the benefit of the doubt the next time we come face-to-face.
I lock eyes with Theron inside the supply room, caught watching them from my position in the hall. Streaks of hair, black as crow feathers, are plastered across his brow. He doesn’t drop my gaze as he moves items around on the shelves. Avrell is speaking to him and I can see Theron’s mouth moving in response, but I can’t hear what he’s saying over the buzzing in my own ears.
It’s his hand on my wrist that brings me out of my reverie. “Yes?” I say.
Theron blinks once, twice and breaks the spell. When he doesn’t answer, I clear my throat and turn to Avrell, who I could swear rolls his eyes. Taking off the outer bulky suit must be awkward, but there’s an efficient grace about Avrell, who I can already tell is Theron’s opposite.
Once his outer suit is hung up, he extends a hand in greeting, his protective mask still in place. “Willow. It’s wonderful to meet you. My name is Avrell Dracarion. We spoke on the comms.”
I wonder as I shake it, if the other humans had taught him the ritual. “Right. Of course. It’s great to meet you, too. Thank you for helping us.”
