Captive (The Survival Race)

by K. M. Fawcett

  She had been in and out of consciousness the past thirty hours and hardly managed to drink any water or the broth he put to her lips. Under normal circumstances that would have been a good thing, since his cold fish soup tasted like crap. But this wasn’t normal. Addy was noticeably dehydrated.

  Noah stirred and cried.

  As Max positioned Addy and the kid for feeding, a thick lump fisted in his gut. How much milk could the boy get this time? Was he even doing the right thing? Nursing had to be dehydrating Addy and using up precious energy she needed for healing. What if he were prolonging Noah’s demise and speeding up Addy’s?

  Her alarm rang again and Max turned it off. What about the prenatal shot? Maybe the vitamins or whatever was in those injections would help her get better. After digging through her bag, he found the syringe and placed it on her navel. Blowing out a short breath, he waited for the buzzes before the injection.

  Nothing happened. No buzz. No kickback. No vibration from a shot.

  He tried again and a third time. Still nothing happened.

  “Dammit.” He tossed the syringe aside. Now what?

  Heat radiated off Addy’s body, and goose bumps covered her flesh. What was causing her fever? An internal infection?

  Leaving Noah to suckle, Max took a piece of the baby blanket he had ripped for rags and slipped out of the tent. He reached over the side of the boat, dunking the rag into cold seawater and ringing it out again.

  He didn’t know how many miles they had traveled since leaving HuBReC, but guessed by the temperature that the days hovered around zero degrees. The warmer weather would be good for Addy and Noah. Especially since the thermal cream was running out. Even though he had limited himself to applying it to his face, fingers and toes, it wouldn’t be long until nothing was left.

  Once again at Addy’s side, Max wiped her forehead with the cold cloth.

  He remembered their first night together and how in his bed she had looked so young. Vibrant. Healthy. Now her face was drawn and sallow, her hair greasy and matted with thermal cream and sickness, her body limp.

  His throat constricted. He couldn’t breathe, and gulping the air did little to help. He hated being as helpless as she looked.

  Gone was the wildcat who had shredded his chest with her nails. Gone was the woman who didn’t take crap from anyone, including the damn aliens. Gone were the two things he loved most about her: her fire and passion.

  “Why won’t your fever break?” he whispered so as not to disturb Noah. The kid had fallen asleep with her nipple in his mouth. Lucky kid.

  Maybe when Addy got better, she’d let him do the same thing. Only he wasn’t thinking about falling asleep. His libido stirred. Dammit. He had to stop thinking about sex. The poor woman was sick, for God’s sake.

  The hair on his neck prickled. His head crooked up, listening. Something didn’t sound right outside. Max scrambled out of the tent and scanned the horizon.

  He could hear it plainly now, that familiar, unwelcome hum.

  His muscles tightened as he searched between icebergs for the motor. On the distant horizon behind them, he saw the subaquatic surface.

  Hyboreans.

  Crouching, he made his way to the bow rope and pulled in the towed iceberg to help conceal the umiak. Then, taking his eyes off the craft for only an instant, he tied up the shortened rope.

  Though clearly in the South Arctic Current, the subaquatic appeared stationary, having gained no ground on them. Could it be anchored? Why would a Hyborean anchor a watercraft in such a strong current?

  Dammit. Ferly Mor must have learned they were on Tuniit land and was waiting for them to come through the Southwest Passage. If he hadn’t pushed the wolves as hard as he did, the Hyborean would have been ahead of them right now.

  Vaulting into survival mode, he reached for the oars. Then stopped.

  Seared on the retina of his mind’s eye was Addy’s languid body. How long could she teeter on the verge of death before slipping away?

  Ferly Mor had the power to save her.

  He also had the power to lock her in a breeding box and force Noah to suffer a gladiator’s savage existence. That would happen over Max’s dead body. Which about summed up his fate if he were captured.

  Damn. If he went forward, he’d risk Addy’s ultimortem and most likely starve Noah. If he went back, he’d risk his own death plus Addy’s and Noah’s unbearable fates.

  I’d rather die free then live like an animal, she had said.

  It wasn’t an easy decision, but he picked up the oars and rowed away from Ferly Mor.

  He rowed into the night, stopping to check on his precious cargo or to rub the ache from his shoulders or to quench his thirst, then rowed harder to make up for those lost minutes of time.

  His hands blistered beneath his gloves. Exhaustion attacked his body. Every muscle ached to the point of numb fatigue. Still, he rowed.

  His grip slipped from the oar again.

  Sleep. He needed sleep. But he had to keep rowing. The current alone wasn’t enough to distance the umiak from Ferly Mor. How long might the Hyborean linger there before he weighed anchor and continued his search south? There was no way in hell he’d be able to outrun a Hyborean watercraft. Especially when he was exhausted.

  With each heavy blink, the starry night disappeared and reappeared until it vanished all together. His body slumped forward waking him. Okay, maybe a ten-minute catnap would revitalize him then he’d be able to row harder.

  Besides it was time to check on Addy and Noah. He wiped sea spray and sweat from his face. With the heat radiating off him, lord knew he’d warm up the tent in minutes. He dragged himself inside. The lightstick cast an ominous glow over Addy’s body.

  He shuddered. Max squeezed her hand and Addy’s eyes opened. She didn’t say a word. She didn’t have to. Gray irises spoke with an intensity that ripped through him like arctic wind and his gut froze into a lump of ice.

  Her eyes said Promise me. as clear as if she’d articulated the words, then they closed and she took her last breath.

  Endorphins flooded his veins, empowered him with the vigor of five gladiators. He searched for a pulse. Nothing. He rested an ear on her chest. No heartbeat. No rise or fall. Please, God. No. She can’t be dead. She couldn’t leave him now. Not after her fire had melted the abominable beast inside him. Not after she’d made him feel human. Not after she’d made him feel.

  He pinched her nose and covered her lips with his. Did he even remember CPR? ABC. Airway. Breathing. Circulation. He blew twice into her mouth then pounded on her chest.

  No response.

  Two more breaths. More compressions.

  Still nothing.

  “Breathe, goddammit.” His yell startled Noah, whose apathetic cries spoke volumes.

  Again and again he performed mouth to mouth, but Addy wouldn’t reawaken.

  Panic, frustration, and anger rose inside him, annihilating what little composure he had left. He grabbed her by the shoulders, shaking her. “Why the hell didn’t you stay with the Tuniits, you stupid woman?”

  Her head flopped back. Matted red-blonde hair hung limp behind her lifeless body.

  “Oh, Addy.” He choked back raw, unfamiliar emotion. His lungs constricted. How could he breathe when everything felt broken inside? Gently, he supported her head in his hand and drew her body to his, holding her tight against his aching chest, burying his face in her hair. “Why didn’t I go back to Ferly Mor?” he repeated over and over again as he rocked her.

  Noah’s weak cry pierced Max’s heart until he could bear it no longer. Max released Addy, her hair clinging to his tears as he laid her back on the pelt.

  With heavy, trembling hands, he picked up his scrawny son, who barely filled his palms. “Forgive me—” he choked on hot tears “—for killing your mommy.”

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  Max woke with aching muscles, a humming in his ears, and a little added weight on his chest. Did Noah fall asleep on top of him before
or after exhaustion knocked him out for the count?

  Wiping sleep from his eyes, dried sea salt abraded his lids and stung him to tears.

  Or so he wanted to believe. He couldn’t still be crying over the woman.

  The room glowed with dim light from the lightstick. Darkness outlined the space between tent flaps. He couldn’t have been out long. An hour, maybe?

  He should get back to rowing, but what was the point? Addy was gone. And soon, Noah would be, too.

  The hum in his ears grew louder. It sounded like a motor. And it sounded close. Too close. Like right next to the umiak.

  Was it Ferly Mor?

  Hope and panic hit him with a one-two punch. There was still a chance to save Addy and Noah.

  But at what cost?

  Max scrambled out of the tent to see a subaquatic hatch sublimate. A tranquilizer gun pointed directly at him.

  Ah hell. When Addy reawakened, she was going to kill him.

  Chapter Forty

  It was pitch-black. She couldn’t see. She blinked, opened her eyes wider, then blinked again. Still blackness. Panic sprung to life inside her, causing her body to tremble. Was she blind?

  “Max?” she croaked through a dry throat. Not sure that he heard her attempt at his name, she mustered up the energy to call again, louder. “Max?”

  His leg jerked against hers.”I’m here, I’m here,” he said in a wrenched-from-sleep voice.

  Addy tried to sit up, but rubber arms gave out. Her head throbbed.

  “Don’t,” he said. “You’re reawakening.”

  “Can’t see.”

  “It’s okay. There’s no light right now. Here, drink this.” His hand gently lifted the back of her head until her lips met the canteen. He poured a small amount into her mouth.

  “More.” Cold water splashed over her tongue and down her throat. It spilled from her lips and dribbled down her neck. “Baby?”

  “He’s asleep between us.”

  Max placed her hand on the baby’s warm little body. Joy quelled her earlier panic. Her baby was alive.

  “Thirsty.” As her eyes began adjusting to the darkness, she was able to make out the shape of the canteen as she drank. The silhouette of Max’s arm, body, and face slowly came into focus.

  She drank as though she hadn’t in weeks. “How long have I been out?”

  “Since you gave birth two days ago.”

  Water spewed from her mouth, drenching him. “Two days? I haven’t fed—”

  “I fed him.” He wiped his face with his sleeve.

  “You?”

  “Well, I plugged him in. Noah did the rest.”

  “Noah? You named our baby Noah?”

  “No, you did. Remember?” His voice was soft, gentle as if talking to a little child. He brushed a strand of hair from her eyes. “Just before you passed out, I asked what his name was and you said ‘Noah.’”

  “I remember you asked if he had a name and I said no.”

  Max pulled his hand away and cleared his throat. “Oh.”

  “Have you been calling him Noah?”

  “Yes.”

  What gives? He’d never once called her by her name, yet he’s been calling the baby by his name for two days straight. And it wasn’t even a real name. It was an answer to a question. A few minutes ago, Addy felt weak, tired. Now anger rose inside her giving her strength to sit up. “Well, that’s just great.”

  “What?”

  “I carried him. I suffered in labor and nearly died giving birth. I should have named him.”

  “Hell, Addy, then call him something else.”

  Ah, back to the gruff gladiator voice she knew so we— Wait. “What did you say?”

  “I said name the kid something else.”

  “Did you just call me Addy?”

  “Yeah,” he said, as if this wasn’t the first time he spoke it.

  Emotions like electricity spiked through her nerve endings, setting her body tingling with energy. Focused on Max’s dark, solid form, she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Hit him or hug him. After all this time, the father of her baby finally called her by her name.

  What’s more, she enjoyed the sound of it rolling off his tongue. She closed her eyes, savoring the moment.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have gotten angry. Especially after all you’ve done for us. Thank you for taking care of him… and me. And Max—” she couldn’t stop the smirk from forming on her lips “—thanks for not naming him Hell Boy.”

  The baby stirred and she stroked his fuzzy head. “Noah,” she said, trying on the name. “Noah. I suppose the name suits him considering you’re male, I’m female, and we’re on a boat.”

  “Uh. There’s something I have to tell you.”

  “What’s wrong? Is Noah sick?”

  “No. He’s fine. For now.”

  For now? What did that mean?

  “Addy, we’re not on the umiak anymore.”

  “What do you mean? Where are we?”

  “We’re on a subaquatic.”

  “A what?”

  “A Hyborean watercraft.”

  “Ferly Mor’s?”

  He shook his head. “Worse. We’ve been captured by poachers.”

  She flailed her arms, feeling for her surroundings in the dark. The back of her hand smacked a smooth wall behind her, not wood or animal skin. Her stomach dropped. “Why does this wall feel familiar?”

  “Because it’s identical to the wall you were feeling up when I first saw you.”

  “We’re in a breeding box?” She pounded her fist on the floor. Un-freaking-believable! How could they’ve suffered through every minute of their escape only to be caged again?

  “Breeding box. Containment cage. Whatever. It seems like everything on this planet is made out of the same damn material.”

  “Can we escape?”

  “No. The cage is sound. The wall behind you is solid and the three other walls are cage bars like the kennel. There’s no furnace, but there is a pot in the corner if you need it.”

  “I don’t believe this. We’re back where we started, except now there’s three of us.” Not ready to admit defeat, she choked back threatening tears. “How long before they return us to HuBReC?”

  It must have been getting brighter because she could now see Max’s grave expression. “We aren’t going back to HuBReC. Ever. These are poachers, Addy. And we’re their cash cows. They’ll assume I’m a gladiator from my gladimort and boots.”

  Right. A human pet wouldn’t normally have a Hyborean-issued gladiator weapon or boots with crampons.

  “Once they check their records, they’ll learn I lost the Survival Race Championship, I’m old and currently without an owner. No owner means no reward for my return. They’ll sell me for sport on the black market.”

  She gasped. “You mean smilodon fighting? Like Lucky told us about?”

  “Yes.”

  “What about Noah and me?”

  “Honestly? I don’t know.”

  I don’t know. Those three words seemed worse than knowing their fate, no matter how brutal. Would they take her baby? Would they sell him to a gladiator master and train him to kill?

  Would they sell her as a broodmare? Or sell her on the black market? Duncan had said those fights weren’t reserved for just the men.

  Her mind’s eye played the scene of Max and the smilodon engaged in bloody battle. But Max was a gladiator. A fighter. He’d survive.

  Maybe.

  If she were thrown in with the beast, she’d get slaughtered. Torn apart. Eaten alive.

  Lucky had said the Hyboreans provide you with a rusty knife. Could she plunge it into her heart before the tiger drew first blood?

  “Addy.” The shadow of a hand waved in front of her face. “You in there? The kid’s hungry.”

  She snapped out of her nightmare into the reality of Noah’s crying. She picked him up, scooted back against the wall for support and felt for the jacket zipper. Loose linen—not the thi
ck spandex-like material of her thermal suit—bunched in her palm, soft to the touch. No glove acted as a barrier to the nerve endings in her hands, and her fingertips tingled. The sensation was strange, almost foreign.

  She pulled the poacher-issued shirt to navel height, and hesitated, aware and uneasy of Max watching her in the dark. Should she tell him to turn around? It’s not as though he hadn’t seen or touched her breasts the whole time she had been unconscious. A shiver ran up her arms the same time heat spread through her body.

  Without a word spoken between them, Max shifted and looked away giving her privacy. That was a first.

  Addy bared a breast, positioned the baby, and gave him her nipple. “Ouch.” She pulled him off.

  “Need help?”

  “No. I can do this.”

  She tried again. “Owww.”

  “Let me.” Without giving her a second to protest, Max faced her, took Noah’s head in one hand and her breast in the other and shoved the baby’s entire face to her skin.

  “He’ll suffoca—” Noah latched on and drank without causing pain. She looked up at Max. “How did you learn that?”

  He shrugged. “Common sense. If I were in his place, I’d want more than just your nipple in my mouth, too.”

  Flames shot through her from cheeks to core. Was it hot in here or just the thermal suit? Oh yeah, she wasn’t wearing a thermal suit.

  “I’m glad to see your breasts full again.”

  She hoped he couldn’t see the color of her skin in the dark. It must have turned three shades of red. Keeping her attention focused on her son’s beautiful face as he suckled, Addy cleared her throat. “How did we get captured?”

  Max leaned back against the solid wall with legs stretched out in front of him. “The day after you gave birth, I heard a subaquatic motor in the distance. When it emerged from the depths and remained stationary in the SAC, I figured it was Ferly Mor waiting for us to come through the Southwest Passage. I debated whether I should paddle away from him or toward him. You were sick and I knew he could help you.”

  “So you brought us back? How could you?” She kept her voice soft-spoken so as not to upset the baby. “Don’t you understand I’d rather have died free?”