by Lydia Hope
“You hijacked a sweeper?” she asked stupidly when he paused to loom over the three of them.
He shrugged. “Seemed like an easy solution.”
She smiled at him. “Your eyes are very shiny. You’re angry.”
“No, just jacked up. But if you don’t move, and fast, I’ll get angry.”
He grabbed her by her elbow without finesse and threw her against the body of the sweeper where the armored side would protect her. Gemma’s bad head reverberated from the impact, and she would have slid down on the floor if not for Ruby whose arms caught her.
“Careful. She’s been hurt.”
This time Simon’s head whipped to her. His eyes took in Gemma’s undoubtedly pitiful visage, and the black glow flared. Now he was angry.
The sweeper kept moving.
“Stay with it, always on this side,” Simon instructed them. “When it reaches the hole, go. Run. I’ll count to ten and engage the feelers.”
A shot landed perilously close. Simon hauled up his bazooka and opened an answering fire. Literally.
“It’s a fire thrower!” the Sakka wailed.
“It’s got several settings.” Simon’s attention was on the lobby.
“What about you?” Gemma couldn't keep her eyes away from him, her love, her life.
“I can break away from the feelers. I’ll meet you at the old church where you fed me yogurt. Go there and hide. Understood?”
Gemma nodded, as did Ruby and the Sakka.
Simon didn’t seem to be convinced. His eyes swept over Gemma. “Can you run?”
“Yes,” she lied. “Don’t worry about me.”
The sweeper kept going, and they minced along, protected from the guards’ fire by its impenetrable body. When they reached OO’s office, the busted door allowed them an unobstructed view of the inside: the polished desk, the knickknacks, and OO himself slumped in his posh chair… holding his head in his lap. Blood from his severed neck had saturated the front of his clothes so that he appeared to be wearing a crimson robe. Gemma couldn't suppress a shocked intake of breath. Next to her, Ruby hiccuped.
Slowly but surely the clunky sweeper circled the lobby and approached the hole where the entrance door had recently been.
“Now!” Simon shouted.
The Sakka was the first to take off, but Ruby clamped her wiry hand around his upper arm.
“Not so fast, mister. You don’t know the way.”
“Let go of me, helper,” the alien hissed, his tiny pointy teeth bared. He had a lot of them.
Ruby was far from intimidated. “You are going with us or not at all. We had an agreement.”
The Sakka didn’t give a fig about the agreement, anyone could see it from his narrowed eyes and the body poised to flee. But Ruby held firm.
Simon’s unblinking eyes took in their scuffle. “You’re wasting our time,” he warned softly.
The Sakka deflated.
Ruby tugged, and the meek alien followed her down the street.
“Hurry, Gemma,” Ruby called back. “You have to show us the way to the church.”
While Simon let out another round of fire to provide cover, Gemma let go of the sweeper’s side she had been using as a crutch and started running, leading their small group to their destination. She didn’t look back at Simon. She couldn't, she was so scared that something would happen again and he wouldn't be able to follow. That they would again be separated.
But no, she shouldn’t let her fear rule her. Those thoughts were poison. Instead, she concentrated on keeping her head straight and on placing one foot on the ground after the other in a slo-mo approximation of a jog. She felt every step reverberate inside her aching brain.
I can do this, she thought, and it became her groove. Icandothis, Icandothis, Icandothis…
The church’s ruins were well within a mile from the prison, but to her, the distance might as well have been a full marathon. With Ruby and the Sakka at her heels, she stumbled inside at the same place where she’d gotten in when chased by the mad cannibal. Another unpleasant, debilitating memory. For her, the City was chock full of them. Her short sojourn here had so far been nothing but misery and an endless fight for survival. She should have lost that fight a long time ago. To think of it, she was amazed she’d made it so far as this.
The tree of them huddled in a corner behind a pile of bricks. All were breathing hard.
Minutes ticked by in painful wait, excruciatingly long. Cold air started to chill their underdressed bodies.
Without warning, Simon jumped down in front of them from above. They screamed in instinctive fright. The Sakka’s scream abruptly cut off when Simon reached for his head with both hands and in one efficient motion twisted it hard, breaking his neck with a crunch of bones. The Sakka’s body fell on its side, leaning against Ruby.
Dumbfounded, Gemma stared at Simon.
“Why?” she croaked.
“He’s served his purpose.” He reached for Ruby.
Galvanized, Gemma fell on top of her friend.
“No! Please, Simon, not Ruby.” Under her body, she could feel the older woman tremble.
“You promised!” Ruby cried out, tearful and scared.
“Shh, Ruby,” Gemma smoothed her gray windblown hair. “What did he promise you?”
“A passage to Meeus. Or was it a lie? You lied, didn’t you?” Her voice broke. “You lied…”
“I’m sorry Ruby. I’m so sorry,” Gemma whispered, heartbroken.
Ruby looked up at her from her curled up position beneath Gemma’s body. “You want to know the irony? He didn’t have to bribe me. I would've let you out for free. You’ve been such a good friend to me, Gemma. I’ll treasure it always.”
Slowly, Simon lowered to his haunches next to them. Ruby’s bony work-roughened fingers clutched desperately at Gemma’s overcoat, seeking an illusion of protection. Simon’s heavy braid slid down his thick arm. He was huge up close. She’d known his size, of course. She’d explored this body in each delicious detail, loved every alien inch of him. She’d come to find his large body comforting.
But right now big didn’t equal safe. If he wanted to kill Ruby, there was nothing Gemma could do to physically stop him.
But instead of reaching for Ruby with murderous intent, Simon lifted the Sakka’s limp arm, pushed the sleeve of his overcoat up, and with a well-aimed slash of sharp nails split the skin of the inner elbow to reveal raw flesh. Sticking two fingers inside the tissues, mindless of the bloody mess he was making, Simon poked around until he located and pulled out a small oblique microchip covered in gore. Wiping it on the Sakka’s coat, he held it for Gemma and Ruby to see.
“This is the passage.”
Ruby closed her mouth with a snap.
Surprised, Gemma asked, “How did you know he had it?”
“In prison, you listen. You learn things.”
“You’ve known it since when?”
“I’ve known it for a long time. I had wanted to use it for myself.”
“Why didn’t you?” Gemma asked, bewildered.
“At first, I couldn't, because of my stasis. And then I met you.” He fell silent, staring at everything and nothing at once.
“Gemma, I want you to take it.” He extended the chip to her. His fingers were smeared with the Sakka’s blood, nail beds ringed with it. “It’s been selfish of me to hold on to the secret. I’ve long decided to give it to you, but I stalled. I didn’t want to let you go. It nearly killed you.”
She made no move to take the chip. Seeing her reluctance, Simon gently took her hand and pressed the chip into her palm, folding her fingers closed around it.
“A passenger shuttle leaves Earth for Meeus every six months. One will be departing in three days. You will have a safe and comfortable flight. You need to go. To be with your kind.”
Gemma’s concussed brain was working hard to come up with something to say. “What about us? Butan?”
He gave a single shake of his head. “I will make that t
rip alone.”
He would, too. He would take off in that deathtrap of a ship and steer it through the stars. Alone.
Not bloody likely.
Gemma tightened her fingers around the chip and pushed away from Ruby, sitting up straight.
“Here,” she extended the chip to Ruby. “This is for Cricket.”
Ruby’s eyes rounded and she scooted back as if afraid the chip might bite her.
“No, I can’t possibly take it. It’s yours.” She kept casting frightened looks at Simon.
“I have no use for it.”
“Gemma,” Simon’s gravelly voice held a deep note of admonishment.
“Oh, shut it, alien. You can’t make me go to Meeus. After all the work I’ve put into Butan? There’s no way I’ll let you drive it alone. I'll go with you. With my kind.”
She thrust the chip to Ruby, and this time the older woman cautiously accepted the gift.
Gemma struggled to her feet and extended her hand to help Ruby do the same. Next to them, Simon rose in silence, dwarfing both women, alien and menacing. His eyes were swirls of darkness, indicating a heightened level of emotion.
“I… don’t know what to say,” Ruby stammered and gave a weak watery laugh. “Thank you. I’m forever in your debt.”
“No, Ruby, you already repaid us by helping me out of prison. And besides, things that are freely given don’t need to be repaid.”
They moved simultaneously and wrapped each other in a tight hug. Gemma felt tears flow from her eyes.
“Take care, Ruby. I hope everything works out in the end.”
“It will now. We’ll make it work.”
“When she gets to Meeus, tell Cricket to find Dr. Zeke Ragberg. He will help her settle. He owes me. My message to him is that he isn’t off the hook until Cricket is situated. And after that, he can live his life free of guilt.”
“Oh, Gemma, thank you,” Ruby was also crying in earnest, her homely worn-out face softened by hope. For the first time in years, Ruby had hope.
Simon’s heavy hand landed on Gemma’s shoulder with finality.
“The time is up.”
Gemma focused on him, but he wasn’t looking at her. His face was raised, and he was scanning the area, on high alert. All was quiet around them. Too quiet.
Swiveling his head to Ruby - and making her shrink back in fear - Simon said, “Stay here. Hide until it blows over.”
Ruby only nodded, knuckles white from holding the chip in a tight fist.
Simon’s arm slithered around Gemma’s waist, pulling her away from Ruby, holding her in a loose embrace for support. Pivoting on his heels, he hustled her out of the church. She craned her neck to look back at Ruby, anxious for one last goodbye, a hand wave, a few more words of encouragement, but the brick wall blocked her view, and then they were gone.
Chapter 30
Gemma and Simon managed to cover a good distance from the church before Gemma’s strength started to give out. Her head pounded, and everything looked fuzzy. Only Simon’s seemingly endless strength propelled her along.
“Where are we going?” she asked to distract herself from her physical woes. Besides, she couldn't chalk it all up on the fuzzy brain when she no longer recognized the scenery.
“Away from the junkyard,” Simon slowed down and stopped. For her benefit, she was sure. He wasn’t winded. “Let me carry you.”
There was no reason to pretend she was okay. “How much longer?”
“I don’t know. I can’t shake them.”
“Shake who?”
“Dr. Delano’s men.”
Gemma looked around seeing nothing out of the ordinary in this abandoned neighborhood. Except for the squeak of a metal panel that swayed in the wind, the only one that still clung to a dilapidated roof, no sound or movement disturbed the area.
But Simon was hearing something she couldn’t.
When she looked at him, she knew her eyes reflected fear.
“Is it because of me? I am too slow?”
“They are relentless,” he deflected.
“Where is your big gun?”
“I left it at the prison. Ran out of ammo. ”
If Gemma had time to process the irony, she’d be the first to admit how much she, formerly a practicing pacifist, had grown fond of Simon’s big gun. Precisely for the damage it could do to many with only one discharge.
“Let’s hide and wait them out,” she suggested.
Simon cocked his head, listening.
“There’s no time. Come on.” He scooped her into his arms and broke into a run.
He had some stamina on him, and Gemma’s added weight didn’t seem to slow him down. They looped around the southern outskirts of the City, where Gemma had never been before, and where the desolation was even worse than around the prison. There were old abandoned cemeteries there. There were rats.
Simon weaved their way between fragmented buildings and decaying obelisks whose creep factor was enhanced to the n’s degree by the scuttle of rodents and the peculiar smell of bitter chemicals and decaying flesh. The junkyard was a hopping country fair compared to the desolation of the southern banks. If they died here, their bodies would not be discovered. Ever.
Occasionally, Simon would stop and scan their surroundings, and always there was an indication of the chase.
“The sweepers will be out soon,” Gemma commented morosely.
“I know.”
He stopped for good after they rounded another one of the millions of the corners they’d turned today, and set her to her feet.
“Simon,” she whispered. He was holding his wrist within her grasp, maintaining connection and silently communicating support. “Did you find the nitrogen?”
“I did,” he gently squeezed her hand in reassurance. “You did everything perfectly. I am so proud of you.”
“I was so afraid…”
“Fear is a natural reaction to danger, Gemma. It’s normal. But you didn’t let it overcome you. You stayed focused. Don’t give in now. Channel your fear.”
Gemma gazed in awe at his determined face. “Simon, I don’t think I can channel fear.” She gave a self-deprecating laugh. “Just wanted to put it out there. Don’t get your expectations too high…”
He angled his head. “You’re doing fine.”
No, she wasn’t. All the running and shaking upset her head, and everything was wavering in the darkness. She felt very faint.
She sagged, and his hands grasped her waist, holding her up.
“I need a minute,” she mumbled, her head resting on his chest.
This is how Dr. Delano’s men found them. They emerged silently from the darkness and formed a tight circle around the two of them, their guns were pointed at Simon.
The circle parted briefly allowing Dr. Delano to walk through.
“How touching.”
A large man dressed in camo stepped closer and prodded Gemma with his weapon. “Hands up where I can see them.”
She didn’t obey, still wrapped around Simon.
The guy swung his gun and hit her in the temple, not so hard as to render her unconscious, but to get her to follow orders.
But for her, the blow had a force of a freight train hitting her head. Everything receded. Her hands slipped from Simon’s waist as if in a dream, and she tumbled gracelessly to the ground.
“Shock him hard,” she heard a distant order.
Something was happening, but she was fading in and out, unable to concentrate. She fought the unconsciousness like a wild Amazon, furiously forcing her brain to function, to stay online. She didn’t know how much time had passed before she managed her eyes to focus. Sounds of a busy bustle reached her ears.
“Bring the stretcher,” Gemma heard Dr. Delano's order from far away. The world kept spinning.
A heavy-duty gurney appeared, outfitted with industrial size restraints. Dr. Delano wasn’t messing around. Helpless, Gemma observed strong men pick up Simon’s limp body and hoist it onto the gurney. She rea
ched out, trying to touch him, to hold on to him, but in confusion, her hand found Dr. Delano and grasped his clothes as if in supplication.
He tsked. “Shame about you, Gemma. Were you so desperate for a male touch to throw away your life for an alien?”
Loosening her fingers, she let go of his clothes. “My life is not for you to judge, doctor,” she sneered the last word, letting him know what she thought of his use of the title.
“You know,” he continued, benign, waxing philosophical now that his quarry was being secured to the gurney, “if you’d’ve cooperated and helped me locate the Rix, I would have considered giving you a job at the lab. I would! In time, one of my orderlies might have given you the physical intimacy you so desperately desired. You’re a pretty little woman. Sadly, now that the word’s out that an alien has been inside of you, no man will come near. Way to ruin your life.”
Gemma only half-heard his trash talk, only half-understood his hurtful words. Deep down, she knew his chastising her for naughty behavior was a pointless pontification to pass time. He had no intention of letting her live.
Simon sprawled limply on the gurney with his eyes closed. He didn’t respond when one of the orderlies roughly manhandled his arm. He never moved. And his utter lack of reaction cracked something vital inside Gemma. She knew his silences and his terrible sick stillness, and she hated it. Hated it… She wanted to scream. She was already screaming inside, wallowing in misery, losing her mind from the fear of finding him again imprisoned by his own body. Stasis, he’d said, was a natural defensive reaction of a Rix body.
“Fuck stasis,” she hissed vehemently.
“Say what?” Dr. Delano raised his eyebrows as if he had misheard her.
Simon’s neck was exposed showing off his intricate tattoos slightly blurred now by the healthy slick fuzz covering his skin. To taste him would be heaven. She lived for him. Oh, to see his eyes one more time!
Wait. Why were his eyes closed? Stasis meant blank unblinking stare and a dull film across the surface of the eye. He wouldn’t be able to close them if he were in stasis.
Gemma’s heart jump-started itself into a feverish rhythm.
“Doctor,” she hadn’t known she was going to speak until the words left her mouth. “What are you going to do to him?”
