Looking at his shaking hands, Hawk reached his open palm toward the circling drones, stalling the rotors that held the drones aloft. He didn’t need special eyes to see that part of the machine.
“No, no, no,” Madricka murmured, cradling Tray’s face. Tray didn’t respond. He was breathing, but barely. Blood poured from a wound that entered near his hip, and went across his body.
“What have I done?” Hawk murmured, his hands dropping into his lap.
What have I done? The thought echoed in his mind, and then Liza appeared next to Tray.
“Destroyer!” Madricka cried, aiming her stunner at Liza. Her hands were slick with blood, but her resolve was clear.
“Healer,” Hawk corrected, checking to make sure his Virp was still translating. “Liza, can you help him?”
“I don’t have the strength,” she cried, pressing her hands over Tray’s bleeding torso, her physical form fading as she tried. “Kerris is dying. I don’t know what to do.”
“Take him to the Spirit Realm,” Hawk said. His stomach churned with regret, but he knew it was the only way. “You can heal him, Liza. You can start again.”
“I can’t,” she whispered. “They’re taking the drones. They’re not going to hunt us; they’re going to ostracize us. It’ll kill him, Hawk. He’s so lonely.”
“I won’t let this technology leave Boone,” Hawk promised. “Go save your brother. You can start again.”
Crying, Liza faded again. Hawk knew his eyes were gone, because he didn’t see her blue aura.
Madricka dropped her weapon, her face crumpled in confusion and desperation. “Can you move? We need to get back to the ship.”
“I can’t,” Hawk said, closing his eyes. “I’m not finished here, yet.”
He went to the refinery in his mind, recalling what it looked like when he still had eyes. He had made the turbines move before, and he could do it again. Metal would not survive the fires of liquid fuel.
“You don’t need to meditate on a solution. Help me!” Madricka cried.
It broke his heart to destroy resources intentionally, but these drones were dangerous for his kind. For him. Breaking them would not change their ability to track him. They had to be destroyed. Hawk stopped the turbine at the refinery, letting the pressure build up in the system. He wasn’t like Kerris. He didn’t reach out phantom arms to make the engines turn. He invited things to happen, and the fuel came from him.
The ground shook and the air thundered from a violent explosion. Danny threw himself on the ground, covering his head, feeling a wave of heat as the fireball rose in the Dome. Plumes of black smoke spread over the city and shockwaves cascaded through the streets, bringing down the smaller structures. As soon as the first wave passed, his only thought was getting his crew out of the Dome before the next wave hit.
“This is it,” Danny said, crawling on her elbows to stay below the smoke. “This is what killed them.”
“That’s the refinery,” Honor shouted, grabbing Sky by the shoulders and dragging her out. “This whole mountainside will burn when that fire hits oil reserve!”
“Hawk, don’t kill us,” Sky whispered, bowing her head.
“A new destroyer!” Kraven cried, herding his people back to the gate. Danny hooked Saskia’s arm and rushed to follow, but the gate was still blocked by droids. Danny felt for his weapon, but he’d dropped it somewhere, and when he looked back, all he saw was smoke.
“They’re lame. Push them aside,” Dex ordered, dragging droids out of the way to make a path.
“Tray, we’re heading out,” Danny said, tapping his Virp. His Feather had fallen free as well.
“Kraven!” Madricka shrieked, her voice coming over all of their comms.
Kraven ran his thumb over the ribbon communicator at his neck. “Madricka, we’re alive; we’re on our way out.”
“I’m in the city,” she replied. “I’m at drone control. One of the hybrids… he blew up the city.”
“That’s where the smoke is coming from,” Saskia said. “She could be surrounded by hotspots.”
“Can you get out?” Kraven asked her.
“No, we can’t walk,” she replied. “I’m shot. Tray’s shot.”
Danny’s world spiraled, worse than when Corey died. He inhaled sharply, taking in a lung full of smoke, then dropped to his knees, scrambling back toward the billowing smoke.
“No, stop!” Sky said, grabbing his ankle, dragging him out. She had a hand on Kraven, too, keeping the man from running. “We’re ten yards from Oriana. Let’s get oxygen masks. Let’s get the ‘sled. Let’s get as many of us out and ready to run as we can!”
It took the rest of them to haul Kraven and Danny back onto Oriana, and when Danny ran for the ‘sled, Sky stopped him again.
“Madricka,” Kraven gasped, falling against Sky, then rolling into Honor’s arms.
“I’ll get her. I’ll bring her home,” Sky promised, grabbing the masks they had by the door and climbing into the ‘sled. “Help him!”
Danny wailed in protest as the ‘sled jetted out, then again as Saskia closed the door. The bay was filled with ashes and smoke overflowing from the burning city. Honor tried to help him, but he pushed her off when he saw Amanda propped on the couch, her eyes open, her body still.
“You’re up,” Danny said, crawling over to her, tangling his fingers in the trench coat she used as a blanket.
“Liza woke me,” she said. “Do you need me to fly us home?”
Danny’s fingers seized and he bowed his face on the too-thin couch cushion. “Tray.”
“What happened to Tray?” Amanda asked, sitting up. “What happened?”
“We don’t know yet,” Honor replied. “Tray and Madricka went into the city. We don’t know what happened after; only that they’ve been shot.”
“Get your wagon off our ship,” Amanda said urgently, pulling Danny onto the couch as she shifted out of the way.
“Why?” Honor asked. “We didn’t do anything.”
Amanda squeezed Danny’s shoulder. “As soon as my crew is back on board, I’m taking them home.”
39
It felt like Hawk’s boots were melting to his skin. He’d rigged two bots together so that he could roll Tray along, but in order to keep them under the smoke, he’d use the ones with smaller wheels, and they kept getting stuck. At least the drones weren’t flying in the smoke.
Madricka moaned in pain. They’d disagreed on whether to stay put or run, but the building was overrun with smoke and the streets had a higher ceiling. Still, Hawk could have planned this better, if he could’ve trusted the Nelka to help.
Tray coughed violently, and Hawk covered his face, shielding him from the ever-thickening smoke. Hawk must have blacked out, because the next thing he knew, he was on his back with an oxygen mask over his mouth and goggles protecting his eyes from the ash.
“No, don’t die like this. Not now,” Sky murmured, running one of her medical devices over Tray’s wound. She wore a mask, and there was one pressed over Tray’s face as well.
“Madricka,” Hawk coughed, rolling onto his side. The wheels of his makeshift gurney were buried in ash. “She’s hurt.”
“She’ll survive,” Sky replied. “You have to help her into the ‘sled.”
“Don’t touch me, destroyer,” Madricka cried. “My baby. I can’t lose my baby.”
Hawk cringed. His life experience had taught him that injuring a woman was a capital crime. He couldn’t reassure her. He should have given her a chance to run.
“Let him help you or climb on your own,” Sky said, pointing up. They were in the shadow of the Bobsled, and needed only to climb up. Sky took the oxygen mask from Hawk and gave a few puffs to Madricka. Gasping, Madricka forced herself to move, kicking whenever Hawk tried to put a hand up to support her.
“Now Tray,” Sky said. “He’s not crawling up on his own.”
“I feel dizzy,” Hawk murmured, clutching his head, reaching for the mask again.
; “It’s not going to get better until we get out of here. Climb!” Sky ordered, grabbing him by the waist, pushing him into the ‘sled. Hawk fell onto the saddle seat, then turned back to help Sky with Tray. Tray’s skin glistened with sweat, and he moaned. Sky had sealed enough of the wound to keep Tray from gushing blood, but he was bleeding internally, and he couldn’t move his legs.
“That’s it, Skipper. Scream so I know you’re alive,” Sky coached, pushing him into Hawk’s arms. Hawk hauled him over the lip of the cockpit, then arranged him with Madricka, favoring her leg and his torso. They were going to be in pain for this trip, but it would be short.
“I’m sorry,” Hawk murmured, sick with guilt. “I’m sorry.”
“Brace yourself,” Sky warned, sealing them into the ‘sled. The air circulators activated, filtering out the smoke and the heat. Hawk shivered. Sky handed him a blanket, but he used it to cover the others.
Biting his tongue, Hawk stared into the smoke as the Bobsled cut through it. Even after they’d cleared the Dome, the dark plumes reached into the sky, catching the wind. He’d promised Kerris that he’d destroy the hybrid tracking technology, but when the moment came, this was all he knew to do, and he wasn’t even sure he’d finished the job. He’d destroyed the refinery and let that take out every other building in its wake. Boone was burning to the ground.
Saskia’s stomach was in knots, from the bodies, from the explosion, and from the news of Tray’s injuries. Smoke leaked through the cracks in the Dome. Every time she tried to take a deep breath, her lungs burned and she went into a coughing fit. They’d sent all their oxygen tanks into the city, for Hawk and Tray. Saskia hoped the wound was minor. Then she and Tray could play cards while he recovered in the infirmary and make awkward innuendos.
The Bobsled cleared the smoke, and they opened the bay door just long enough to let the little ship fly into the bay. Even so, she and the Captain were choking on fumes before the bay doors closed again. They’d arranged the Nelka wagon against the empty escape pod hatch, so they’d have a relatively smoke-free path between the vessels. The seal wasn’t air tight.
“Honor. It’s Madricka!” Sky hollered, waving the woman over. Blood beaded off Sky’s white clothes, but soaked into Madricka’s tunic. The woman wobbled, but seemed strong, despite the bleeding gash on her thigh. Saskia recognized the burns and rips left by a projectile.
“Minor wounds. Make sure her baby is okay,” Sky said, helping Madricka onto the ladder. Kraven rushed in to catch her before she reached the bottom step, and he carried her to the wagon. Dex lingered, his evil eyes locked on the Bobsled and Hawk inside of it. He’d screwed them all over, to no fruitful end, and with no notable consequence. His crimes were overshadowed by the tragedy.
“Tray,” Danny moaned, aching to see his brother.
“Transpelvic wound. I sealed enough to move him and locked the bullet in place so that it wouldn’t enter the bloodstream,” Sky reported as she and Honor lowered Tray into Danny’s waiting arms. Danny transferred him on a gurney and Saskia felt her throat closing up. Every pistol that had fired today had been conjured from her memory of being shot in the Terranan Revolution.
“Nelka, off the ship, now!” Amanda croaked, her voice coming from the Vring. “Sky, I need you on the grav-drive.”
“No,” Honor said, pulling Tray’s eyelids back. “No, Tray’s lost too much blood. We should stabilize him first.”
“We can transfuse Danny’s blood into Tray,” Saskia said, exchanging a look with Honor, then pushing the Captain toward the medical bay. A future flashed before Saskia’s eyes—one she’d only recently dared to dream, and now she saw it die. The kid Tray had been worried about meeting—Saskia didn’t even know the boy’s name.
“Can you fix him or just stabilize him?” Sky asked. “If you can’t fix him now, we need to get to Quin.”
“It would take weeks to treat a wound like this,” Dex spoke up. “We have our own wounded to tend to. Honor—”
He gave Honor a tug, and she looked at Saskia one last time, not wanting to abandon her.
“Go,” Saskia reassured. Every heartbeat made the shrapnel in her hip ache. She tried to remain calm and detached, but she was going numb. Tray’s eyes fluttered open, focused briefly, then closed again. Taking shallow breaths so she wouldn’t insight a coughing fit, Saskia forced herself to breathe and count to ten. Tray needed her to be a medic.
“Amanda, how are we on fuel?” Sky asked, charging up the stairs.
Hawk fell from the Bobsled, chasing after Sky. Saskia swallowed hard, bitterness reminding her of the price of Hawk’s rescue.
Removing the oxygen tank from Tray’s lips, she took a few fresh breaths for herself. The move afforded her a little strength, and a dose of clarity. They moved toward the infirmary, and while Sky and Danny shifted Tray to the bed, Saskia retrieved the flesh-knitter tool. They had no gauze or heavy-duty suture thread. They had no dopamine or local anesthetics. Why that memory, Liza? Why that object?
The towel in Danny’s hand was soaked with Tray’s blood, and the more it slickened, the harder it was to keep the towel in place. He could feel Tray’s heartbeat weakening. Saskia tottered on her feet, taking a few breaths of pure oxygen before securing the mask to Tray’s face and setting up a transfusion line from Danny into Tray.
The oxygen plus the transfusion line brought Tray back to life. He screamed in pain as Saskia painstakingly staunched the wound and knit his muscles back together. The wound looked small from the outside, and Saskia had manipulated a few small instruments under the skin so she could repair the damage without opening Tray up to infection. They’d sealed off the infirmary, blasting the air purifiers, making the air frigid and dry, but not nearly clean enough.
The slow leak of blood from Danny’s body into Tray’s made Danny dizzy, and he prayed that he and Saskia would stay conscious long enough to stop the bleeding.
“Stay with me, little brother,” Danny coached.
Tray’s head lolled and his hand flailed, catching under the oxygen mask. “So this is what it takes to get your attention. It’s not worth it,” he groused. Danny couldn’t tell if it was sarcasm or the continuation of a fight they’d had earlier.
“A grazing would’ve gotten my attention,” he joked, his chest getting tight.
Tray cried out, his body bowing.
“Sorry,” Saskia whispered, pressing her hand to Tray’s shoulder and lowering her forehead to the bed, trying desperately to catch her breath. Saskia hacked and spit out black soot into the sink, then resumed her work under Tray’s skin.
Sky burst into the room, bringing a blast of heat and dust, sending the fans into overdrive. She shoved a silver mixing bowl into Danny’s lap. In the bowl was a coarse blue paste with chunks of flower.
“Topical anesthetic. It should help,” she said tersely, leaving as quickly as she’d come, sealing the door behind her.
Daring to take one hand off the towels, Danny wiped his bloody hand on his pants, scooped up the blue paste with his fingers, and rubbed it around Tray’s entry wound. A few minutes later, the blue paste seemed to take effect, and Tray’s body relaxed. Danny’s fingers were going numb, as was his arm. He disconnected the transfusion line, hoping that he’d done enough.
“Mom is going to kill me,” Danny laughed nervously.
“Mom’s dead,” Tray whined, squirming.
“She’ll find a way to crawl out of her grave and smack me for this. She’s like that,” Danny said, holding his brother still.
“Was she?” Tray asked. He looked sadly at Danny, his expression open and vulnerable. Suddenly, his body stilled and his heart rate plummeted.
“Come on, Tray. Our mother?” Danny said, desperate to keep his brother engaged. “The only reason people have any respect for us in Quin is that they’re still afraid of her.”
Danny looked desperately at Saskia, and Saskia kept working, knitting the torn muscle together, siphoning out the excess fluids. The blue paste stuck to her dull, met
al instruments. They needed a surgical-grade knitter to close the wounds as fast as Tray’s blood pressure pushed them open.
“Can’t… remember her,” Tray gasped, his hand twitching. Wiping the blue paste from his numb fingers, Danny slipped his hand over his brother’s and held on.
“You live through this and I promise I’ll tell you all about her,” Danny said, his voice getting hoarse. All these years they’d traveled together, Danny had wanted to talk about their childhood. He’d wanted to reminisce with his brother about the few happy years they’d had together. He’d always assumed that Tray didn’t talk because he didn’t want to remember.
Letting go of his brother’s hand, Danny retrieved a Virp from his pocket, and fumbled through the display, calling up a picture of their mother.
“Keep your eyes open. Don’t pass out,” Danny said, projecting the image over Tray’s face. “Take a look at this. Remember her?”
Tray stared and blinked, his breathing becoming labored. His arm moved clumsily and he traced the cornrows in his hair. In the picture, their mother’s hair was swept up in a peacock blue scarf with a few frizzy ringlets framing her face. Tray was normally meticulous about having ringlets just like that, and Danny realized that it wasn’t on purpose.
“I can hardly look at you without seeing her,” Danny said, taking Tray’s hand again.
Tray heaved and gurgled, saliva coming from his mouth, blood from his nose. Saskia swore and Danny panicked.
“No. No! Tray! You live! You have to live!” Danny demanded, holding Tray’s mouth open and clearing the fluid with his bare hands. Saskia added a siphon, and then shoved a tube down Tray’s throat.
“How close?” Saskia vrang. “How close to Quin?”
“Smoke damage to the thrusters,” Sky replied. “Hawk’s got us in the air, and we have to clear the smoke before we can use Amanda’s eyes to find Quin. I’m looking at Tray’s signal analysis right now. I swear, we’re going as fast as we can.”
Hybrid: A Space Opera Adventure Series (The New Dawn Book 4) Page 33
