Lunar Heat: 1 (The Heat Series)

by Susan Kearney

  He so badly wanted to give her encouragement. His gaze flickered to a dark smudge of reddish-gray on the horizon. “Is that a stand of trees?”

  She squinted. “Maybe. Some Earth varieties grow here. Why?”

  “Trees need water. And so do we.”

  “I planned to forage in that direction next. From what I can tell, we seem to have landed in the center of the rocket’s wreckage.” She raised a hand to shade her eyes and searched the sky. “I don’t understand why no one is looking for us.”

  He turned to her, puzzled. “Who would come and why?”

  “Every pilot files a space flight plan before leaving the space station. And there’s a black box on the spaceship—”

  “Black box?”

  “A locator device that tells the authorities, among other things, where we went down.”

  “Jamar would have sent out an electromagnetic burst to jam the signal. It may be a long time before anyone realizes that we are missing.”

  “Jules will know. But, if they don’t send out a rescue party until morning, we’ll be dead.” She said the words with a calm that told him she had little energy left, that the lack of water was already sapping her will. Under normal circumstances a human could go three to four days without water, but in the Martian desert the end would come more quickly.

  “Listen to me.” He placed his hands on her shoulders and locked gazes with her. “We are not going to die.”

  She snorted, pulled away, and shoved a lock of hair out of her eyes. “Yeah, right.”

  “We can live off this land. I have survived in worse places.” Hope brightened her eyes, but before she asked more questions, he demanded, “Tell me what you’ve seen so far and where.”

  “That way”—she pointed north, responding like a soldier—”was the tail section of the rocket. That’s where our baggage was stored, but the fuselage cracked open and spilled the contents across the desert.” She didn’t mention seeing any of the camping equipment he’d purchased that would have helped them to survive. Instead, she pointed east. “And over there were pieces of the wings—I think. There were flaps and one charred, flat three-foot-by-five section. I found nothing useful except the bag of chips and the piece from the water tank.”

  “You did great.” She’d already expended a lot of stamina in foraging and taking care of him. Now it was his turn to help her.

  Unfortunately, he doubted he was strong enough to carry her. He gathered her into his arms, tucked her head under his chin and rubbed her back. “Those trees are our best chance to find water.”

  “You’re not even sure those are trees. There may not be any water.”

  “Sure there is.” He pointed across a crater to tracks in the sand, made by a large mammal. “Whatever animal left that track has found water nearby to keep it alive. Water is here. And we will find it.”

  “Okay.” She pulled back. “What about Jamar? Is he waiting to attack us again?”

  It amazed him she was thinking beyond her immediate need for water. Shara had a depth to her that made his admiration soar. “Most likely Jamar’s already left for Mare Sirenum to recover the first portal piece.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Maybe we’ll make it out of here in time to ambush him. Or perhaps I’ll let him find all three parts and then steal them back.”

  “Suppose he destroys them?”

  “First, he has to find all three.” He held out his hand to her. “Come on. We’re wasting sunlight.”

  They walked for a little over four hours, the pace slow. The terrain underfoot was sandy and rocky, and they had to choose each step with care. Turning an ankle could be a death sentence.

  Terrans had imported insects, plants, and animals from their deserts and transplanted them here. Lethal snakes curled on rocks in the sun and rattled their tails when they approached too closely, forcing them to take wide detours. Shara recognized the rattlesnakes and told Cade they had deadly venom.

  He also avoided spider webs, knowing the tiny creatures’ bites could be poisonous, too. And he kept a wary eye out for the large four-legged animal he couldn’t identify from its tracks, pleased that its footprints seemed to parallel their path toward the far stand of trees. But by far the most dangerous element couldn’t be avoided—the sun. With no clouds in the Martian sky, the merciless dry air continued to draw moisture from their skin.

  Shara’s breath grew labored. Occasionally she stumbled from exhaustion, but she didn’t ask to stop, displaying remarkable stamina. Cade had seen men in the mines in better shape than she fail to display her kind of quiet determination, and his admiration for her grew.

  Along the slow journey, Cade saw metal parts of their spacecraft strewn across the desert, but he didn’t dare stop to forage. Water had to be his top priority, their only priority.

  As the sun began to set, they finally reached a stand of scraggly trees.

  “Hear that?” His voice cracked.

  Wearily, Shara shook her head.

  “Listen.” Cade heard the trickle of moving water, and his heart lightened. They would not die of dehydration—at least not in the next twenty-four hours.

  Shara leaned against a tree. Spent, she remained swaying on her feet as if knowing that once she sat, she wouldn’t find the strength to move again. Her hair dirty and matted with dust, her face smudged with dirt and dried blood, her lips cracked, she’d never looked more beautiful.

  He hadn’t expected her to walk all afternoon without complaint. And he marveled at her strength of will—because only mental toughness had kept her going.

  “Come on. There’s water. I can hear it.” Taking her hand, he tugged. And she staggered forward by his side.

  They rounded a few trees to find the wonderful sight of water gurgling through the rocks. Together they stumbled, advancing to the edge of a clear pool that trickled and tumbled through a series of rocky ledges under the stand of trees. Dropping onto the warm rocks, they leaned over the pool. And side-by-side, they drank; to Cade those first mouthfuls, sweet and cold, tasted better than candy from the Universal God. He had to force himself to take only a few sips and stop. Beside him, Shara guzzled and he stopped her. With Quait.

  She frowned at him and immediately he released her.

  Stars. The instinct to use his Quait had happened without thought.

  “I’m sorry.” Gently he reached for her arm and pulled her back.

  “I’m still thirsty.”

  “I know. But take only a few sips at a time, or the fluid won’t stay down. Heaving will dehydrate you even more than you already are.”

  “Okay.” After removing the cloth she’d wound around her head, she splashed water onto her face then used the cloth to wipe it dry, smearing the blood and splashing her clothes in her eagerness to wash.

  “Let me do that.” Gently, he took the cloth from her hand, dampened it, and then carefully rubbed away the dirt and dried blood, pleased that her scrapes didn’t appear to be festering, the skin around them no redder than the sunburned parts of her flesh.

  “When the sun sets, it’ll get chilly.” He pointed to high grasses. “Can you pull up some grass for us to sleep on tonight? It will help keep us warm.”

  “Sure.” She gazed longingly at the water. “Can I drink some more?”

  “As much as you want. But only a little at a time. And don’t get your clothes wet.”

  She sipped a few more careful mouthfuls as did he before standing. They’d found water, now he needed to keep them warm. “I’ll start a fire.”

  “You have matches?” Her voice rose with happiness.

  “No, but I have knowledge from the programs I ingested while on the way to Earth.”

  He’d expected Shara would nod in approval. Instead, she stared past his shoulder, her eyes wide with terror.

  “Look out!”

  Cade spun around and caught sight of the feral eyes of a pack of six wild beasts, the largest one charging straight at them. In an instant, he tried to put up his
shield. Failed. Realizing he was too salt-depleted from the walk to protect them, he stepped forward and yelled at Shara. “Run. Climb a tree.”

  34

  “Dr. Lyle Donovan?” Jules strode through a thick insulated metal door with the scientist’s name beside it. She recognized him immediately from her visions. He wore his thick brown hair tied back in a sexy hippie look that seemed at odds with his crisp white lab coat. Tired brown eyes behind stylish glasses stared at his vidlink projection, a chemical formula and equations highlighted by the office’s silicate walls.

  “I’m busy.” His warm baritone caused her stomach to clench. Must be her excitement over finally tracking him down. Her reaction certainly couldn’t be from his expression. The scientist had yet away from the vidlink projection, never mind smile.

  Jules rested her hands on her hips. “You’re always busy.” Her gaze swept his perfectly neat desk to the huge stack of unopened mail that included magazines, letters, and packages that tumbled from a shelf onto the floor in a corner. His message light blinked, waiting for him to answer calls. “You don’t answer your vidlink. Or knocks on the door—so I let myself in.”

  “I’m still busy.”

  Jules had had enough of the scientist’s nonsense. She’d traveled across half the solar system and might likely freeze to death before he deigned to notice her. So Jules, who didn’t consider herself particularly rude or aggressive, had no intention of leaving. She was worried because Shara hadn’t answered her vidlink, and her spacecraft was late. Jules wanted answers about her visions, and the infuriating scientist could at least act as though she existed.

  Stepping forward, she shut down his vidlink. The formulas and equations disappeared.

  “Hey.” He glanced at her, but instead of the annoyance she’d expected, his mouth widened into a charismatic smile that shot an electric jolt into her system. “What took you so long to find me?”

  She tossed the beeping vidlink out of his reach, then folded her arms across her chest and leaned against his desk. “First you play impossible to get. Then you ignore me, and now you’re feeding me lines?” She grinned to show him she wasn’t angry. “And people think psychics are crazy. But it’s really scientists like you who are insane.”

  He leaned back with a laugh and his eyes crinkled pleasantly at the corners. For a scientist, he had a sexy two-day shadow on his square jaw and very warm brown eyes. Clapping, he applauded her with clear—not mocking—enjoyment. “You do know how to capture a man’s attention.”

  “I’ve flown almost to frickin’ Jupiter to talk to you.”

  “How about dinner?”

  Was he asking her on a date? His sexy smile said he was interested. The way he was coming on to her after he’d totally ignored her for months had her totally off balance. She gaped at him. “Dinner?”

  “We can talk over dinner.”

  “About Io and Lamenium and volcanoes?”

  “About anything you want.” His eyes said that he was hoping she wanted him.

  The oddest thing was . . . she did—right up until the moment the scientist removed his space coat from a hook, and she caught sight of a picture hanging on the wall.

  In the photograph, Lyle stood in front of a volcano, right next to Jamar.

  35

  When Trevor didn’t see any sign of Shara and Cade at the holovid premiere, he covered the event anyway and filed his story. Then he stopped by the hotel to see if they’d already checked out. For a C-credit, a robo-maid had let him into the now empty penthouse suite, verifying his premonition that they’d once again disappeared in the middle of the night.

  Trevor returned to his hotel room, discouraged, but more certain than ever that something very newsworthy was going on.

  He tracked Shara through a former bodyguard to a security service she used.

  He dialed the number on a hunch that a PI might answer the vidlink twenty-four/seven, even this early in the day. It was busy. Trevor checked his watch. Already close to dawn, he had just enough time to stop by Ms. Alverez’s office before leaving for the spaceport and Mars.

  Trevor surveyed the outside of the classy building with a sense of foreboding. One hovercar was parked in the lot, next to a sign that said in metallic script TERESA ALVEREZ. A light in the third-floor office burned brightly. The rest of the building remained dark.

  His reporter instincts on alert, he let himself through the unlocked front door into the lobby, questions seething in his head. Why was the security system turned off? Why was the robo-guard dead? Why were the doors unlocked? And why was Teresa Alverez working this late, all alone?

  Not wanting to advertise his presence, Trevor took the stairs, quietly opened the door, and strode through the building. Teresa’s door was closed, but the light shined brightly, leading him to her office.

  Papers were strewn across the floor just outside her office door. Trevor bent to pick them up. And then stopped. Shara Weston’s name, alias, and travel plans were on a schedule, a schedule covered in blood.

  Leaving the printouts where they were, Trevor placed his ear against the door. He heard nothing. Not a footstep. Not the beep of a vidlink. Not the sound of music. Perhaps she’d fallen asleep at her desk, but every instinct told him something was wrong.

  Breathing lightly, heart pounding, he picked up a faint coppery odor. The polite thing to do was to knock. Yet he sensed something ominous behind the door, something unpleasant.

  Slowly, he turned the knob. The door opened soundlessly on well-oiled hinges.

  At the sight of so much blood on the walls, he almost missed the bloodied heap of flesh on the floor.

  Trevor vomited. And then vidlinked emergency medical services.

  36

  Jaws wide, the boar-like animal with a large head, flattened ears, long snout, and thick coat of gray bristly hair charged straight at Cade. With his order to run and climb a tree urging Shara faster, she raced toward a mesquite tree.

  But even if she attempted to climb, the thin branches wouldn’t hold her weight.

  Heart hammering, she peeked over her shoulder, horrified to see Cade kicking the speedy and agile creature away—just as the rest of the pack gathered to attack. Adrenaline surged, and she searched for a weapon, but unlike in the holovids where a perfectly formed branch in the shape of a baseball bat lay at her feet, there was nothing at hand except sand and rock.

  Rocks.

  Stooping, she picked up several and hurled the missiles, praying she didn’t hit Cade. Her aim was poor, and she missed the boars. Worse, she didn’t have enough strength to do any damage from this distance—not even enough to scare them away.

  Cade picked up one of the boars as if it weighed no more than a basketball and tossed the heavy body into two other animals. The three tumbled, a spinning mass of outraged grunts and squealing snouts.

  Determined to help, Shara scooped up more rocks and advanced closer before hurling them, each time screaming as loud as she could. “Go! Get away! Leave us alone!”

  One rock bounced off the side of the largest pig. It shrieked, shook his head, twitched his ears, and stared at her with beady eyes as if preparing to charge.

  Uh-oh.

  Cade slammed the knife-edge of his hand against a boar’s thick neck. The animal shuddered. The boar behind him knocked into it, and two more went down. But when none appeared injured badly enough to stay down or break off the attack, frustration ripped through Shara.

  She was bending to gather more rocks, when out of the corner of her eye she saw a boar knock Cade to his knees. Cursing, angry, she heaved another rock . . . and missed. As if sensing Cade’s weakness on his knees, the animals circled, regrouped, and charged as one.

  Terrified for Cade, Shara faced the beasts. She knew what it was to take a life, to live every day knowing that the other would never see another sunrise, never laugh, never love.

  Screaming as loud as she could, she ran straight at the boars, unloading rock after rock into their midst. A lucky shot landed on th
e leader’s snout and left a bloody mark. Roaring in pain, the animal changed direction in midstride and stampeded straight at Shara.

  Cade stuck out a foot. The boar tripped and fell, upended, almost doing a headstand before keeling over. Frightened at the sight of their leader going down, the other boars nudged him with their long snouts and feet. Slowly the beast lumbered to his feet.

  Shara reached for another rock—but none was nearby. She locked eyes with the beast, and fear lurched up her throat.

  Do something.

  Yelling and waving her arms like a crazy woman, she ran straight at the boar. The boar snorted, shook its snout.

  And turned tail.

  Shara kept chasing it, screaming as it lumbered away, the herd joining their leader to disappear into the darkness.

  Panting, weary, she trudged back to Cade.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, drawing her into his arms and hugging her.

  His arms felt so good, warm and protective. “Yes. You?”

  He slowly released her, then bent to rub the joint and calf muscle just above his foot and winced.

  She kneeled to look at his injury. Gently, she felt for swelling. “You twisted an ankle?”

  He sat on the sand. “My foot’s a bit sore from kicking the beast, but otherwise, I’m fine.”

  “That was so scary.”

  “Thanks for not climbing the tree.”

  “I couldn’t leave you,” she admitted, then bit her lip. Oh, God, she really liked this man. How could she not fall for a guy who so easily admitted he’d been wrong and then thanked her for it?

  “Too bad we didn’t have the means to kill one of them—meat would have tasted good after we roasted it over a cooking fire.”

  “What fire?” she teased, and handed him the bag of chips.

  He opened the bag and offered her a chip. She shook her head. “You need the salt more than I need the calories.”