“She was the only survivor from Buke’s cryo-pods,” Heath said without taking his eyes off her. “They contained abductees from Earth, to be hunted as prey on Resu.”
Jack straightened. “No shit.”
“Yeah. Shit. Buke is pimping her for the highest bets.
“She’ll receive a head start.” Sith lifted one shoulder. “Soon after they will release the hunters who pay the most. It’s the ultimate hunt.”
Heath itched to throttle Sith until his good eye burst clean out of his head. “You’ll never get away with this.”
Sith poured more amber liquid into his cup. He dunked a wafer in the liquid and popped it in his mouth. He chewed meditatively. “We can, and I will. Closed vid links are only accessible to those who have paid and the financial benefits outweigh the risks by a factor that is shall we say… substantive.” He switched the screen off. “It’s a brand-new market. The possibilities are limitless. And the best part? No one gives a fuck what we get up to out here.”
Heath gritted his teeth. Fury pulsed through his veins, scorching him from the inside out. “You’re hunting people.”
Sith bit into another wafer. “No one I know.” He waved bony fingers at the guards. “Enough talk. You’ll be secured until we’re on Thanos.”
The guard’s meaty hands grabbed Heath by the elbows, propelling him up out of his chair with a crush of nerve against bone. The only consolation was that Jack and Isa were close on his heels.
The guards hustled the three of them up a corridor. Heath slowed his pace, trying to buy more time, but that only earned him a piercing stab to the rib cage. “Move it.”
He couldn’t allow himself to be locked up again. He dragged his heels until they reached the lift. The guards keyed in a sequence and red digital numbers ticked down above the door.
The ship was enormous, and the numbers counted down at an excruciatingly slow rate from fifty. It wasn’t until the numbers read ‘five’ that the doors pinged and slid open.
“About fucking time,” Jack grumbled as they were pushed into the boxy space.
The flight deck was on the fifteenth floor. Ten floors to freedom.
The doors slid shut, sealing the seven of them in. A whispered shimmy and the lift began to ascend, red light pulsing in a wave to the number six.
Heath rocked on the balls of his feet, studying the smooth metal panels of the floor. His reflection was distorted, but he was still there. And as long as he was, he would fight to protect Isa. He had to right the wrong he’d created. Others in the cryo-pods had died because of choices he made. He’d been desperate, allowed Buke to manipulate him, and he’d made choices that went against what he believed in.
Not anymore.
Tinny piano music filled the air, pumped in through speakers above their heads.
Jack cocked his head at the ceiling. “What is that?”
“What?” the closest guard squinted upwards.
“The Girl from Ipanema.” Heath pointed upwards, while he sidestepped and whipped his head back into the face of the guard behind him in a violent smash. Cartilage crunched satisfyingly against the back of his skull and the guard gagged, hitting the floor with a thud. The second guard took seconds too long to disengage his brain from the easy-listening jazz. Jack plowed head first, into the man’s meaty paunch. The guard fought to raise his weapon but the lift space was cramped and he folded over Jack before he could fire and they collapsed to the floor as one. Jack twisted free, and flipped back to his feet, his chest heaving.
The first guard staggered to his feet, blood leaking from the corner of his mouth. His eyes were narrow slits of pain, laser-focused on Heath. Heath dropped, felling the man again with a slicing kick behind the knees. As he toppled forward Jack punched him in the temple and the guard’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, his grip on his weapon slackening.
“Bastard.” The second guard was scrambling to his feet, his face a pulpy mess.
Heath’s wrists remained jammed tight against the base of his spine. Shit. He took a knee, dipping to grab the sheathed knife on the unconscious guard’s leg. He manhandled it and, with an awkward tug, got the knife under his restraints but he wasn’t fast enough. The second guard was on him, flattening him against the floor. The knife skittered free of his grip. Pain cut through his head and “The Girl From Ipanema” wavered out of earshot before coming back strong. Hot blood filled his mouth as the guard grappled for Heath’s throat with thick fingers, his nails gouging skin. Stars exploded in time to the music across Heath’s vision as his airway flattened.
Fuck.
His legs skittered, searching for grip. The wall. He ran his feet up it, using the rise to break the guard’s grip and dry air whooshed into his starved lungs. But the guard was relentless, twisting to crawl back up Heath’s body, his eyes flinty shards of bloodshot determination.
Gods. Give. It. Up.
Heath scissored his legs around the man’s neck. He clamped his thighs in a blood-stopping squeeze, ignoring his attacker’s desperate efforts to dislodge his hold.
Heath checked the lift display. Ninth floor. Every floor risked the lift stopping. He tightened his legs, putting everything into it, squeezing his eyes shut against beads of sweat as he counted off interminable seconds praying for the guard to fucking go limp. He ground his teeth. Now.
At Goddamn last, the hands digging at his thighs flopped and Heath released the guard with a shaky breath. He dropped his head to the floor, bossa nova tinkling in his ears.
Jack loomed over him, a grin splitting his face. “Thought you were a goner there for a moment.” He sliced Heath’s restraints and stuck out a hand.
Heath spat blood and accepted the lift back onto his feet. “Don’t suppose you might help next time?”
Jack laughed and bent to press two fingers to the guard’s neck. “Now where’d be the fun in that?” He straightened. “Still alive. Don’t want any murder charges added to our list.”
Heath turned. Angie was standing in the far corner, rubbing her wrists. Cable ties lay on the polished floor at her feet, along with the other two guards who were unconscious.
She wasn’t even out of breath. “Are you two finished?”
Jack saluted. “We still got shit to do?”
Heath retrieved a laser rifle from one of the guards and punched fifteen into the control panel. “Hell, Yeah.”
34
Heath sprinted to the docking bay, Angie and Jack in tow. The row of hoppers waited, berthed at the far end and the sleepy old man was still slumped in his chair. No one had found the guards yet, and the alert hadn’t sounded. But it was only a matter of time.
Jack huffed behind him. “I take it you have a plan?”
“Rescue Isa.”
What if he was too late? He couldn’t think like that; he needed to believe she’d be all right, that there was still time. Heath hurried past the elderly man in the deckchair, his cap slanted on his head. Now fully awake, the man eyed the three but remained silent, watching with a glint in his eyes as Heath palmed the controls on the outer hull of Buke’s hopper.
“That’s it? Rescue the girl is your plan?” Jack was indignant.
The rear door opened with a reluctant hiss. Heath dived into the gloomy interior, barking out commands. “It’s a work in progress. We can refine as we go. Navigational systems on.”
Isa might never be his, but he would damn well make sure she stayed alive and well—far away from Buke.
The interior of the hopper illuminated in pink hues that swept around the cockpit. Heath took the captain’s seat, pressing back into the soft leather as safety restraints secured his body in a firm grasp. Angie slid into the second in command.
Jack grasped both headrests. Angie looked up at him. “There’s another seat in the rear.”
Jack showed her his teeth and shook his head. “I’m fine here.”
Heath pressed against the headrest and opened his mind to the hopper, letting the information systems flood his brain. He found the engines
and engaged the power, absorbing the thrust of energy passing through his body. The familiarity of Angie’s presence as they prepped for flight comforted him.
“Navigation online,” she reported.
The engines thrummed under the worn soles of his boots.
The ship’s voice in his mind was feminine. Ready.
Heath forced his shoulders to drop a little. Emotion would only interfere with his control. “Request permission to disembark.”
The ship vibrated with unleashed power.
Had they found the guards yet? How long would it take them to work out who was missing? He tapped the armrest with agitated fingers. Come on. Come on.
The ship pivoted as the docking locks released.
Permission to disembark granted.
Air stalled in his lungs. It was almost too much to hope for. Could it be this easy?
“Heath.” Sith’s oily voice cut through his happy thoughts and the ship hovered mid-maneuver. “I don’t know where the fuck you think you’re going with one of my ships.”
Heath considered all the possible options, but honesty was the best among them. He was done with half-truths and lying. They brought him nothing but trouble. “Resu.”
“Back to Resu? The girl, then?” Sith’s laughter echoed down the communications link. “You are more stupid than you look.”
Heath ignored him, angling the ship toward the exit. The docking bay doors were already drawing closed, the gap narrowing.
Docking exits closing, the hopper stated, unperturbed.
The old man several hoppers down had stood up from his rumpled deck chair. He pointed with a gnarly hand in the opposite direction.
Heath spun the hopper. More spaceships. The walls of the docking bay. A big gray fucking impenetrable wall. He squinted, trying to see what the old codger had indicated.
Rear Loading Bay the hopper observed in a bored tone, shunting the star cruiser schematics into his brain. Heath winced at the intrusion but he saw it now. A small exit, open and unprotected.
Without being asked, Angie inched up the power, steering toward the industrial exit at the other end of the dock. Surely Sith knew it was open?
The hopper increased speed and Angie engaged defensive shields. “Jack, you might want to take that seat now,” she observed.
Jack remained where he was. “Uh, huh.”
“You’re wasting your time.” Sith’s voice was curt.
“Loading bay is closing,” said Angie.
Heath diverted everything the hopper had into the engines. “Let the fucking ship go, Sith. I have no fight with you.”
Sith laughed. “Why would I do that?”
The engine noise escalated to a roar as they cruised to a halt near the exit, the hopper jibbing against his mind like an errant dog on the leash. Heath raised his voice. “Buke wants a hunt? He wants something for money? Let us go. Back to Resu.”
Through the narrow opening the velvet tapestry of space taunted him. Was it his imagination or had the doors stopped closing? The pink-banded edge of Resu was visible, the three moons rotating in perpetual orbit.
A technicolor blaze of noise erupted in the cramped cockpit, snarling through Heath’s brain and blanking out all the flight information. The hunting channel again. Flickering shots of Isa and Resu’s barren landscape.
Click.
A hologram of Buke replaced the images. A wolfish grin edged his mouth. “Are you willing to put your life on the line for her?”
“Give me the chance.” The hopper bucked under Heath’s control.
Angie shifted restlessly in her seat. “Heath, engine temperature is rising.”
Buke pursed his lips in thought. “I see you’re taking that no-good mechanic and droid of yours too.”
Over Buke’s shoulder a vid screen sharpened into focus. Six red zeros filled the screen. A bell chimed, and the numbers climbed higher with each passing second. Screams of excitement rent the air.
“The hunt is live.” Buke’s mouth carved into a wicked line. He threw his hands up in mock defeat. “What the hell. Three for the price of one.”
The image blipped but the dying echo of Buke’s voice lingered in Heath’s mind. “Come find her. Make me some fucking money.”
“All systems are back online.” Angie swiped through navigational maps in a blur.
The rear doors were wide open. Thank fuck.
“Jack, hang on.” Heath pushed the hopper, forcing it to the limits of its acceleration until sound boomed in his ears as the craft exploded out of the star liner.
He entered co-ordinates for Resu. “Angie, I need you to hack into Buke’s personal systems. I think he’s tagged Isa.”
Hang on, Isa. I’m coming to get you.
35
Isa wiped her bloody fingers against her leg and laid the metal tagging device on the pristine shelf. Her hand trembled and with the slipperiness of the blood, it was with some difficulty that she wrenched her wedding band off. She laid it beside the tag, leaving crimson prints.
That part of her life was over.
She was different now.
Heath was responsible for that. He’d helped her to see she was worth more, that she could do this for herself and not because it made other people happy. Her only regret was that she hadn’t realized this sooner. She unholstered the laser. She had fought to be free of Karl and it had brought her here.
If she’d learned one thing, it was that she didn’t need to rely on anyone else to save her. She was strong on her own.
Dust filtered down from above and the steps were gritty under the soles of her new boots as she climbed. Her knuckles were white around the laser’s grip as she emerged back into the wilds of Resu. Wind gusted around her, blurring the landscape for the first few seconds in a shell-pink maelstrom. Isa shielded her eyes, trying to work out where she was but there was nothing but bush and desolate sand as far as she looked. No Ixoth. How the hell had she ended up in the middle of nowhere? It made little sense that she should be so far into the wilderness.
Yet she was.
And not alone.
Cameras were everywhere.
A glinting swarm of drones hovered close by, circling like vultures, swooping in and out of range. Watching her. Gambling. Guessing how long she’d survive.
Not very long before she’d met Heath.
She rubbed her thumb against the butt of her weapon. That was then. This was now. She steeled herself, eliminating the tracking cameras from her mind. Survival required focus.
She hurried down the slope, arid air filling her lungs. Shelter was her priority, somewhere to hide.
Laser fire blasted rock only inches from her foot. What the—
Isa threw herself into a crouch.
Hell. They were shooting at her already. She lifted her head and screamed into the wind. “What happened to the head start?”
More laser fire bit the dirt, too close to her heels. All her good intentions flew out the window as she broke into a sprint.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
She skidded, her feet losing traction, landing on her backside in a bone-jarring jolt at the bottom of the slope. A rain of fire tracked every step. Isa ducked low and darted toward a small rocky outcrop. Fear sucked the moisture from her mouth.
She risked a peek over the top of the rock. Drones buzzed low, angling to get a clearer shot. Several Games Masters reported from the zooming tech, their faces animated with excitement of the hunt.
Her hunt.
Fucking hell.
Isa hunkered back down, scanning behind her. It was a fifty-foot sprint to the edge of a nearby forest. Colossal trees loomed above her, their trunks appearing only inches apart. Would she even fit between them?
Like there was a choice.
Isa ran. She’d fit. No matter what, she’d fit.
She collided with the nearest tree trunk, her cheek scraping against flaky bark. She rounded it, sucking in her belly and tilting her head to squeeze through the tapered space. Solid wood compr
essed her ribs and then she fell out the other side into the forest.
Cool, dank air surrounded her, the rich scent of mulch and beetles filling her nostrils. Leaves muted the thud of laser blasts as she pushed on, her battle becoming a little easier with each step as the trees thinned deeper in the forest. None of the drones had followed yet.
For a few minutes, there was only the squelch of leaf litter under her feet and the rasp of her breathing but soon the clicking sound returned and with it drones racing ahead to shoot her frontal close-ups. How? She’d debugged herself, had the bloody neck and excruciating pain to show for it.
She swatted at them, screaming, but they swarmed tighter, bumping off tree trunks and impeding her escape route. A loud grunt brought her to a sudden halt.
What the hell was that?
Isa’s chest shuddered as she fought the raging urge to breathe so she could hear. Where was it coming from? She swung wildly, searching for the source. Hot tears streaked her face, and she swiped them with angry hands. She exhaled in a rush, dizziness threatening to overwhelm her. Her grip tightened on a nearby branch, damp moss compressing under her fingers.
It’s behind me.
She turned with care, pivoting on the balls of her feet. A boar, eyed her up a short distance away, looking pissed off. She glanced around. She’d run into the pig’s territory? It pawed the ground in nervous agitation, its crumpled snout wrinkling with dark bristly spikes. Elongated tusks extended in barbaric spikes below its beady eyes.
Whoah.
She aimed her laser with a shaking hand. The tracking dot skittered all over the place. Shit. She clamped one hand on top of another to keep her aim still. “Nice piggy.”
The beast ignored her and advanced.
Screw chatting. Isa fired the gun. It bucked viciously, throwing her aim off, the laser bolt blasting bark above the boar’s head. It squealed and lowered its head, exposing long yellowed canines.
Isa retreated, feeling each step with the toe of her boot. “Sorry.” She fired again, clipping its side.
The boar screamed and Isa winced. Her hand rose to cover her mouth, the stench of burned pig making her gag. Damn, that was bad. The boar charged, its hairy backside jacking up and down as it thundered toward her.
Hunted Page 16
