Her gaze dropped to his erection, and she shook her head in amusement. She broke free, running toward the water. “Last one in’s a loser.”
Heath scrambled on to his feet, pounding across the sand to join her, his joy lanced with sadness. What he had to do was obvious. Isa would never be his. Buke would find her through him.
No matter how much it killed him, the safest place for Isa was back on Earth.
Far away from him.
25
Heath was awake on the cusp of dawn, waiting for the crimson sun to begin its slow journey across the sky. With the return of the day came the promise of light and a full recharge on the hopper. As soon as it was ready, they’d leave.
But until then he would savor every minute of Isa tucked into the crook of his body. He kissed the top of her head and inhaled the scent that was uniquely Isa. She was a warm weight in his arms, tempting him back to sleep, but the rustle of the leaves and the lap of water on the nearby beach kept him awake, constant reminders that they were out in the open and still far from safety.
On the other side of the violet mountains rested the Annie Mae’s wreck and with it his hope of locating Angie and Jack. No matter what they found there, everything was going to change. Heath closed his eyes as a knowing numbness touched the edges of his heart.
He’d have to let Isa go.
There was no escaping it. He had to get her back to Earth without Buke discovering she was alive. If he found out some of his ‘cargo’ had survived, he’d claim it. Buke was a powerful man and he would eliminate everything and anyone in his path to achieve his goals.
No, the easiest way to keep Isa safe was for her to remain hidden. He’d book her a flight on an Earthbound star liner and tell Buke she was dead.
Where did that leave him?
Taking responsibility. Perhaps for the first time in his life.
The early morning light coalesced into harsh yellow heat. Heath worked beneath the tinted glass of the hopper, grateful for the opportunity to be busy. He’d had too long alone with his thoughts.
As soon as the batteries registered a full charge, he took the ship airborne and circled their camp. He wanted a few extra moments to store the memories before the brutal reality of the day ripped it away.
“Heath.” Isa was watching him from the other pilot’s chair, her expression pensive. “Once we get to Ixoth, what happens next?’
“Then we find some way to get you home.”
“I see.” Her fingers rapped against her thigh. “Once you take me home… will I see you again?”
Her question hung in the air. He couldn’t lie to her, but the hard truth felt like a betrayal after what they’d shared. What if she thought he was the same as her cheating husband—using her, but moving on when it suited him? Just the possibility of her thinking that made his throat thicken.
He forced a smile. “Let’s tackle one thing at a time.”
As soon as they cleared the ragged sky-scraping peaks, the wreckage of the Annie Mae became visible. Heath’s stomach lurched as he took in the devastation. The impact had scattered the rear cargo section over an area approximately a mile wide and had shattered it into an irregular jigsaw. Storage containers and cryo-pods were strewn like white and gray confetti.
Isa paled as they flew over the crash site in preparation to land. He reached over and covered her hand with his. “Don’t worry.”
A thin smile tweaked the corner of her mouth but her eyes remained fearful. She smoothed the torn fabric of her clothes in an unconscious gesture. He’d never seen her in anything but the ripped overalls she wore right now and for an instant, he conjured an image of her in the life she had before him. The life he’d be returning her to as soon as possible. He forced his attention back to the scene below, swallowing against the pressure in his throat. There wasn’t time to think about any of that now.
The hopper landed with a soft shudder, the squat legs sinking into an ancient riverbed that still snaked across the landscape. His seat restraint released, and he held out his hand to escort Isa from the craft. Outside, he withdrew a knife from the hopper’s storage, twisting the handle in damp palms. Goosebumps chilled the back of his neck.
“Think we’re alone?” Isa’s tone was strained.
Wind blew over dry earth. The crash site was desolate. A quick visual sweep confirmed there was no one else at the site, but deep down he felt otherwise. “No.” He pulled her close with a tug of his hand. “Stay close.”
The Annie Mae had plowed into the dead riverbed, gouging deep furrows as the enormous segments of the ship had ground to a final halt. Desiccated shells and tiny sun-bleached fish bones crunched under his boots as he headed to the largest intact section. He found it embedded in a channel at least six feet deep, red mud sliced back from the broken hull in a perfect curl.
Heath clambered down toward his ship, sliding the last section on loose stones. He placed a hand on the dented hull. The letter A was legible despite deep scores and black scorch marks. The Annie Mae had been his baby. If it hadn’t been for Buke—
“I’m sorry.” Isa squeezed his hand.
Heath shook his head. “It’s just metal. It’s the people inside who count.” He stepped away, searching for access to the damaged interior.
Isa broke free of his grasp and stumbled a few feet ahead. “Here!” She gestured, already climbing inside the ripped section. Heath hurried after her to where she waited for him on the torn edge, several feet off the ground. When he joined her, they faced one of the hold sections. The interior was wrecked. Cryo-pods jammed in a metal tangle against the Annie Mae’s heavy lifting machinery, others ruptured, their contents loose on the floor. His heart sped up. The hold was dim, sheets of warped hull casting the further recesses into darkness despite the brightness of the day.
Anything could hide in here.
“We need to check them.” Isa started forward, forcing him to catch her by the waist. “Wait.” He peered into the gloom. It stank of oil and hydraulic fluid.
“Too many dark corners. We’ll check together.” Heath smoothed his hand down her back, stopping at the base of her spine and letting his hand rest there. Drawing comfort as much as providing it. Then he swung in front of her, ignoring her pursed lips.
Relief flooded him when Isa huffed but stepped where he guided her.
They made an efficient check of the interior, their hips bumping as they navigated the chaos. He checked every cryo-pod but devastation had ruptured them all. Some were damaged beyond all recognition, their interiors blackened and empty. The violence of atmospheric entry had incinerated any occupants. No one had survived. Heath swallowed bile. Buke would pay for this.
Isa ran a finger along the twisted edge of one pod. “These are cryo-pods.” She looked up at him, the dim light hiding her expression from him. “Like the one I was in. But no survivors.” She wiped soot onto her thighs. “I was lucky to survive.”
The knot in Heath’s belly tightened. He’d expected damage, but this was so… so complete. The Annie Mae was destroyed—and where were the escape pods?
He jumped down from the ruined section and then caught Isa in his arms as she followed. He held her a moment too long. She squeezed his biceps. “I’m okay.”
“Yes, I know. Just…”
She shielded her eyes from the sun. “It’s a lot to absorb, isn’t it?”
It was. “Yes.”
Isa headed for the paltry shade of a straggly tree to take a sip from her water container. She gave the trunk a reassuring pat as she spoke. “What now?”
Heath dragged his attention from the field pad on his wrist. He indicated a trail of jumbled black shapes that extended behind the main hull section, shimmering in the hazy heat of the day. “We work our way back through the debris, make sure there are no survivors.”
Heath insisted they approach the wreckage with care. There was an itch at the rear of his brain that wouldn’t resolve. He scoured the landscape as they hiked closer, but whatever was shredding
his nerves remained hidden. By the time they reached the main tail of wreckage his shirt stuck to his back and grit had ground its way into every seam. The cleansing hot springs of last night were a distant dream.
The pods were camouflaged by their scored and melted sides. Heath was close enough to touch one when he first spotted it. The top was hinged open.
Isa tracked him as he unsheathed his knife with cautious steps and craned to see inside.
The white plush interior was empty. Clean. No blood.
He exhaled in a long hiss through his teeth and ran his hand over the inner padding as if contact would impart the story of its occupant. But the pod wasn’t telling.
Heath slammed it shut and jogged to a second and third pod a few hundred feet away, which were the same. Clean and empty and they had taken the food supplies. Three discharged escape pods. Three survivors. Angie, Jack, and Buke. But, where were they?
Heath surveyed the dried-up scenery. Resu’s domineering red sun beat down relentless, reducing the landscape to an iridescent gleam that erased any tracks.
Isa chewed her lip, her brow furrowed in concentration. She lifted the lid of the closest pod, checking the interior. “This is different from the cryo-pod I was in.” She contemplated the fact, worry deepening the creases on her forehead.
Ice slid across the back of Heath’s neck despite the oppressive heat. The urge to press his lips to hers to silence her was strong. If he kissed her hard enough, would she forget?
Her brow wrinkled. “This is what your friends were in?”
His mouth was dusty. Time with Isa had just run out. There was no more escaping her questions.
She tapped it. “It’s not a cryo-pod. What is it?”
The words rasped against his throat. “It’s an escape pod.”
She nodded, confirming something to herself, and then her gaze flicked to him in challenge. “Were you in one of these?”
Time stretched out between them as his hopeless brain struggled to find the right words. Words that wouldn’t make him sound like a liar. He hadn’t lied. But he’d lurked in the gray zone and hadn’t been honest. At first because he hadn’t understood what the hell was going on, and then after because if he told her the truth, what then?
“Yes.” He pushed his shoulders back in acceptance. “I was in an escape pod.”
He willed her to blink, to say something but she didn’t. She waited, motionless. His fists formed compact knots at his side, his nails gouging his palms.
“Heath, what’s going on?”
He forced the words out, despite their bitter taste. “The cryo-pods were cargo.” Fuck. How had he got himself into such a fucking mess?
Her mouth fell open into as everything slotted into place. “I was cargo?” Her voice rose, alarm tingeing her words.
He couldn’t do this anymore.
“I piloted the Annie Mae.” He scrubbed a hand across his face as if that could cleanse his mistakes. “I wasn’t a passenger. Angie and Jack are my crew, not my friends. We were hired by Buke—”
“Who’s Buke?”
“He’s a trader. He paid us… a lot of money to make a delivery to Ixoth, with no questions asked. We hit a magnetic storm and crash-landed. I swear I didn’t know our delivery was cryo-pods. If I’d known we were carrying people—”
Isa recoiled as if his touch were toxic. Her face blanched, her lips a bloodless line. “Your cargo was people. What kind of pilot doesn’t know what he’s carrying?”
Gods, he just wanted to pull her into his arms and hold her close. He rammed his hands into his pockets, his knuckles grinding the rock dust that had settled there.
“Isa, it wasn’t that simple…it was, is…more complicated.”
She retreated from him, her eyes wide, showing him her palms in disbelief. “And you never thought to tell me any of this?”
“No. I didn’t realize what was going on…I only found out what the cargo was when we crashed. And then—” He stopped. How could he say that his first instinct had been to take her to Buke? To not ask questions and hope there was compensation? Would she believe the strength of his regret?
Isa turned her back on him. Her shoulders trembled, and he cupped them with his hands, wanting to comfort her, but she threw him off with a violent shrug.
“Is there anything else you’re keeping from me?” Her tone burned like acid.
Heath pinched the skin at the bridge of his nose hoping to ease the escalating pain building between his eyes, knowing it was a waste of time. Nothing would alleviate it. It was growing comfortable, chewing up his brain, getting ready to settle down for the long haul. He dropped his hands to his side, searching for the right words. Wanting to explain more, but if he did, he jeopardized everything.
He’d hope to spare her any more pain, and he’d failed. But until he had proof Buke was dead, she wasn’t safe.
“I will take you home. I know it doesn’t change what’s happened but—”
When she turned to face him, her expression settled into one of blank composure but red rimmed her eyes. She raised her chin. “Heath—”
The sonic boom of ship artillery obliterated her words, the blast hurling them both to the rough ground and ripping the world apart.
26
Isa ducked low and sprinted pell-mell for the hopper. Intense laser fire cracked lightning over her head, singeing hair as compact gunships wheeled above. She fell more than once, but Heath snagged her belt and propelled her along. Scalding air stung her cheeks. She’d deal with Heath and his lies later.
If they survived.
“Must have tracked us,” he gasped.
Dust filled her lungs as she stumbled after him. “I thought you disabled the trackers.” She swerved to avoid jagged Exorizza branches. There was enough going on with the ship firing at them, without the trees taking potshots.
Heath grunted. “I fucking did.”
Their hopper was within sight. She put on a desperate spurt of speed. The rear doors were open, they could make this. Heath leaped up, twisting to haul her inside in an effortless lift. In unison, they slammed into their flight seats, the hopper powering up under their combined control.
Isa wiped sweet from her eyes. “How the hell did they find us?”
Heath shook his head. “not hanging around to find out.”
Under their dual direction, the craft bolted skyward, the G-force squashing Isa flat against the leather. Through their shared telepathic control of the ship she sensed primal anger flowing off Heath, driving the ship at an insane speed. That was fine. She was pissed too.
Her knuckles blanched on her armrest. This would be a fast ride.
Below, an array of gunships hustled toward them in hot pursuit, laser fire spitting from their bows.
“Why are they shooting us?” she screamed.
“I don’t know,” Heath hollered. “Maybe we stole a ship or something.”
Ahead, a gray snub-nosed craft exploded out of a cloud, swerving to meet them head-on.
Heath tilted the hopper in a crazy lurch that dodged their attacker but left Isa’s stomach too close to her throat. She swallowed a surge of nausea and scrunched her eyes shut, blocking out the dizzying zoom of blue.
Damn, she was going to die. She’d survived so much and she was still doomed.
It was only a matter of—
A shot imploded against the hopper’s belly, bellowing up through the floor in a raging wail. The engines stalled, and the craft tipped, poised for an instant, high in the atmosphere before gravity lassoed it earthbound.
Heath yelled, “Hold on!”
Fuck.
It plummeted in a dizzying spin, the front end kissing the top of the tree canopy before the engines roared back to life.
Isa jolted in her seat. They were ascending again but the smooth boom of the engine disappeared, replaced with a strangled howl. Heath’s deft control crumbled as they sped toward ragged mountain peaks their progress now a swooping seesaw.
His hand snappe
d across the space between them and he crushed her fingers between his. “Brace—”
The craft thundered, flinging Isa against her seatbelt with a crack. Woven straps sliced in violent recoil against her neck. Blood tainted her mouth, sharp and coppery as she struggled to focus. Everything was blurred, her arms and legs unresponsive.
“Isa.” Someone called her from the bottom of a long tunnel.
“Isa.” Reality reasserted itself and pain steamrollered every fiber of her being in an unstoppable tsunami.
Through the viewscreen, she glimpsed an expanse of icy gray lake rushing toward her. The engines screamed as they nosedived in a turbulent submission to gravity. Grinding engines didn’t lie. The ship was done. Below, silver and blue rushed closer. Too fast. Churning water.
She would die and she wasn’t sure if she cared. As long as the spinning would stop and the agony splitting her brain would cease. From a long distant memory, Isa laced her fingers across the back of her skull and tucked herself into a compact ball.
There was an almighty whump as they hit the water and the interior was plunged into darkness. A silver maelstrom obscured the viewscreen and the hopper tumbled blind, sinking fast.
The world pitched, forcing Heath to widen his stance as he hacked at her jammed seatbelt. He wrenched her free, the protection of his arms welcome despite his recent revelations.
“You hurt?” His breath was a warm comfort in her ear. She squeezed her eyes shut tight unable to stop the tears escaping and spilling over onto her cheek. Goddamn. What the hell was she doing? Tears were no use to anyone. She scrubbed her eyes with bruised hands, stalling the tears that threatened to become a torrent.
“No, I’m fine. Where are we?”
“We crash-landed in a waterfall. We’re under.” As if making a point, the hopper tilted savagely.
“Come on.” He steadied her, one arm snug around her ribs as she wobbled on her feet. “I think we’re rising now.”
Hunted Page 12
