by Susan Kelley
“She’s always trying to save everyone,” Vannie said. “Could have got herself killed trying to push you out of the way like that.”
Vin replayed the killing of the moose. Emma had been trying to move him out of its path. “Why would you try to save me?”
Moe put his hand on Vin’s shoulder. “Don’t try to figure her out, lad. She thinks she’s on this world to protect everyone.”
The villagers worked their way around Moe and Vannie, edging closer to the downed moose. They regained their earlier excitement as they discussed how to dress and save the meat.
“I had the gun. The moose presented more danger to you than to me. You’re unarmed.” Vin swept his gaze over her. She probably didn’t weight much more than half his weight. “How did you intend to stop it?”
Emma shrugged, the motion drawing Vin’s attention to the blonde curls cascading across her shoulders. “I wasn’t thinking that far ahead. It was coming right at you, and you didn’t seem to be dodging out of the way.”
Vin waited for her to finish her bizarre explanation, but she only stared back at him as if she had no more to say. “But it would have killed you if you had managed to push me out of the way and made me miss the shot.”
“She knows that, lad.” Vannie shook his head. “Why do you think it takes me and Moe both to watch out for her?”
“Emma?” A tall gangly man pushed his way in between Emma and Vannie. He wrapped his hands around her shoulders and shook her. “What are you doing? You could have been hurt?”
Vin had noticed the tall man around the town but hadn’t registered anything hostile about him. The man putting his hands on Emma in such an aggressive manner ignited something bred into Vin’s soul and fine-tuned by his brutal training. Vin caught the young man’s throat with one hand and tugged him forward as he swept his foot under the man’s scrabbling legs.
Emma’s attacker hit the gravel hard. Vin kept his hold on the man’s throat and dropped the rifle so he could pull his pistol. Before the man’s breathe woofed out of his chest, Vin had the gun pressed against the man’s temple.
“No! No, Vin.” Emma put her hand on Vin’s shoulder, warmth soaking through his shirt. “He’s my friend. It’s only Dillon.”
Dillon whimpered in the silence. The only other sound was people breathing. No one even moved.
Vin tucked his pistol back into his weapon belt and snatched up his rifle as he rose. Moe strode forward and helped Dillon to his feet. People started talking again, walking around the moose and some jogging off to collect the needed tools.
Emma touched Vin’s shoulder again. “He wasn’t hurting me, Vin.”
Vin thought he saw pity in her dark eyes but that made no sense. He wasn’t the one picking himself off the ground. “He shouldn’t have touched you so … roughly.” Vin wanted to say Dillon shouldn’t have touched her at all. But then another thought had him looking closer at the trembling Dillon. “Where were you? Why are you just now arriving?”
Dillon swallowed and looked to Emma as if expecting her to help. “I … I live in the last house on the north end of town. I didn’t hear anything until the shot woke me up.”
Vin knew he didn’t read emotions well in others, but he sensed the lie. He itched to grab the man’s throat again but Emma wouldn’t want it. “The north end?”
“Yes. The very last house.”
Vin stepped toward Dillon, shaking Emma’s hand off his arm. “So you didn’t noticed the open gate when you heard a disturbance?”
“Open gate?” Vannie asked. “Are you saying this behemoth busted through our gate?”
Vin watched Dillon’s expression, searching for guilt. “No, I’m saying someone opened it, and this poor dumb animal wandered in.”
Moe overheard and cursed softly. He grabbed Dillon’s arm and pulled him back through the alley, speaking over his shoulder to Vannie and Vin. “Come with me.” Moe led them down the middle of the street, keeping a firm grip on Dillon. Emma trailed behind them.
“Hell’s balls,” Vannie cursed when the open gate came into view. “Who would have done this?”
“Don’t swear, Vannie,” Emma said. “Dillon didn’t do this if that’s what you’re thinking, Vin.”
“Of course I didn’t.” Dillon jerked his arm from Moe’s grasp. “I was sound asleep until that shot blasted through the night. Why would anyone do this?”
“Anything could have walked in through here,” Vannie said.
Vin realized he should have closed the gate as soon as he noticed it. “I better check the rest of the village.”
“I’ll go with you,” Emma said.
“No you won’t.” Vin started toward the houses on the eastern side. “Close that gate, Vannie.”
Emma tagged along behind him, her small boots snapping a quick cadence to keep up with him. Vin walked faster so by the time he rounded the corner behind Dillon’s home, she was trotting. And making a lot of noise. He stopped and turned to face her.
She stopped also and folded her arms, her flimsy blouse emphasizing how skinny her limbs were.
“You’ll only be in my way.”
“Someone has to watch your back.”
“I don’t understand your jokes.” And being so close to her while she wore such light clothing didn’t help clear his thoughts.
“You can’t make me angry so don’t try.”
Vin blinked, struggling to make any sense of her comment. He should have stayed hidden in the forest instead of trying to live among these people. A rustling sound distracted him.
Emma opened her mouth to speak again but Vin placed his finger on her lips. Her breath flitted across his calluses. He jerked his hand away, cursing himself for touching her. He gestured over his shoulder. Now he would have to keep her right beside him.
They continued along the back of the houses until Vin paused. He needed Emma to stop moving. Her footballs sounded as loud as gunshots to him. The sounds came from behind the foliage growing near the wall. Deep shadows hid the area underneath the plants even from Vin’s sharp vision. The scent of fresh blood and spilled innards hung in the still predawn air.
Vin’s experiences had taken him to many worlds. Each new planet had its own variety of life. Warm-blooded beasts of fur and hair usually carried similar scents but this odor reminded him more of vipers and cold scales.
“What is it?” Emma whispered.
Vin didn’t know and didn’t plan on going into the bushes in the dark to find out. Some reptiles used venom to catch prey and protect themselves. He’d seen men die horrid painful deaths after encountering such alien creatures. He retreated Emma and forced Emma to back up also, creating a larger killing field in front of him.
Though he couldn’t see them, he sensed many sets of eyes upon him. A slight rattling of bushes close to the ground meant many small creatures lurking in the shadows. He hoped they were shy of something larger than themselves. But animals traveling in packs had the courage wrought by numbers.
A small lizard hopped out of the bushes, dark liquid glistening around its mouth. It traveled on its long back legs that sported evil looking claws shaped like sharpened hooks. It carried its front legs before it like tiny hands on thin arms. Though the beastie stood only as high as Vin’s knees, the teeth exposed by its gaping mouth hung as long as man’s small finger. Even as he assessed it dangerousness, a half-dozen of its companions bounded from cover to join it. The first one chattered and chirped, and the others answered.
“I think they’re talking to each other.” Emma wrapped her fingers in the back of Vin’s shirt and tugged as if to pull him back.
He resisted. Retreat would inspire an attack. Moving slowly, he reached for his pistol. Even that slight movement prompted the little beasts to spring forward. Their cries rose in pitch as they flung themselves toward them.
Vin’s first three shots each took down a lizard but then the other four were upon him. The creatures sank their teeth into his boots. Vin kicked out with his right foot and
threw two of them backward. They landed with startling agility and raced toward him. He shot another one.
Only the quality of his boots prevented their knife-like teeth from chewing through to his shins. They dug on his feet with the back claws and chattered in a rapid nerve-jangling way. A small foot crunched into one of the beasts. It tore away a piece of his boot as it spun away two paces from the blow. Vin shot it.
Emma kicked at another one, but her blow skimmed over its back. Her momentum carried her off balance so she stumbled away from Vin’s back. The vicious little creature abandoned its fruitless attack on Vin’s boot and hopped toward Emma.
Vin pegged it, blowing its blood all over Emma’s pant legs. He tried to shake off the last little animal as it scrambled up his leg. Its needle-sharp front claws dug through his pant leg above the top of his boots. They pierced his skin as it pulled itself toward his vitals. He clubbed it with the butt of his pistol but the strike didn’t faze it.
His belt held a knife and as he reached for it, Emma returned to the battle. She punched the reptile with her small fist. It turned its head and hissed at her. Vin threw aside his pistol and snatched it by its neck. His well-honed knife sliced through its skin, muscle and backbone without hesitation. It head tumbled down into the dirt, ending its spitting outrage.
Emma panted beside Vin and from behind them came shouts and approaching footsteps. Vin heard no more thrashing in the bushes and trusted his aim that all the reptiles he’d shot were dead. Blood ran down Vin’s legs and into his boot.
“You’re injured.” Emma bent down and looked at his leg. The night had given way to gray light.
“Why didn’t you stay behind me?” Vin looked at the short boots she wore under her thin pants. “They could have torn into you.”
She set her hands on her hips. “Well, you’re welcome. I told you that I could watch your back.”
“We heard the shots,” Moe panted out as he, Vannie and Dillon skidded to a stop.
“Holy hell, an entire pack of jecks,” Dillon said. “Are they all dead?”
The sun touched the top of the trees beyond the fence, changing gray light to golden. Vin checked the loads in his pistol, noting he had thirteen of the twenty shots left. He brushed past the men gaping at the dead reptiles and approached the bushes that he now saw were some type of berry bushes clinging to a roughly made trellis. Behind the thick foliage, he spotted the curly, coarse hair of one of the goats kept in the village for milk. The docile little animal wouldn’t have stood a chance against the bloodthirsty pack.
“Each one killed by one shot!” Dillon kicked at the jecks.
More villagers approached with caution from the alleys between the houses. He waited until they’d gathered around the carnage. “We need to check the entire settlement for anything else that might have wandered in. Get your weapons first and work in groups of at least four.”
The men hurried off to obey, a few casting nervous glances at the greenery between the houses and the wall. Dillon trotted after them, but Vannie and Moe stayed behind.
Moe put his hands on his hips much like Emma had. “That’s some shooting there, Vin Smith. Don’t know if I’ve ever seen anything like it.”
Vin had only hit three of them before they’d reached him. Obviously he needed some practice with his new pistol. This latest model, designed for the military, would fire under water and in low atmosphere. With a little practice, he would be able to kill all seven before they reached him.
“None of that right now, Moe.” Emma wrapped her arm in Vin’s much like she had earlier to lead him into the café. “One of them scratched Vin’s leg. I need to clean it out before an infection takes hold.”
“You do that, Emma.” Vannie narrowed his eyes at Vin. “Moe and I will help make sure the compound is clear, but then we’ll have a bit of discussion with Mister Smith.”
* * * *
“I have my own antiseptics,” Vin said as they came to the surgery door. He hefted his rifle someone had set on the boardwalk.
Emma thought of the powerful antibiotic Vin had given her for Russ. Likely he did have something better for the wound. The surrounding wilderness provided a healthy environment for all kinds of microbial growth. She’d treated many rashes and odd infections since arriving in Hovel Port. “We’ll go to your place then, and I’ll use your medicines to treat you.”
“I don’t need assistance. Please return to your own home.”
Emma heard people working behind her surgery to butcher the moose. The meat would feed the entire settlement for weeks. Groups of men moved along the street, slipping into alleys, to check for other intruding wildlife. What if one of the village children had stumbled into the jecks when going out to play? But they would be safe now, thanks to Vin. “I’ll check your wounds properly unless you tell me you’re a doctor.”
“I’ll already told you I wasn’t.” He stared at her for a long moment, some kind of calculation going on in his eyes. Then he turned and walked toward his shop.
Emma hurried after him, prepared to give him a lecture on manners. Most of the soldiers she’d worked with over the years had excellent manners and treated her with an overabundance of respect. But a few of the most damaged had interacted with anger or cold disregard.
Vin’s attitude defied her ability to diagnose or categorize him. He acted comfortable with the distance he kept between himself and others, making no attempt to be friendly. And his cold demeanor didn’t seem like a screen to protect his sanity from the horrors trapped in his memory. She almost thought the calculation in his eyes was actually him interpreting the language and then forming his answers as if the universal language of the Galactic Empire wasn’t his native speech.
The interior of the shop shocked her into a sudden stop just inside the door. She’d been in the little work place a number of times, asking the previous own to fix this or that. It had been a maze of parts, pieces and tools thrown about in casual disarray. She’d often wondered how anything had ever been found or repaired amongst the mess. Today it might have been a different building.
Vin had cleared the center of the room except for three work benches on which various tools lay in ordered rows by size and perhaps function. Emma suspected the previous occupants of the floor occupied the shelves along the walls. Only a few old stains soaked into the wood dared mar the spotless floor. Even the air smelled different. A hint of sunny freshness covered the previous taint of old rubber and dirty metal. And he’d only moved in a little more than a day ago? The only thing about the remodeling that didn’t surprise her was the military preciseness of the room’s organization.
Vin strode toward the steps that hovered at the rear of the building and led to the open loft, his footsteps soundless on the wood floor. The first rays of the rising sun blazed through the narrow front windows but the golden light only lit the front half of the half of the room and left the rest in warm shadow. Vin climbed the steps, his tread unaffected by his wounded leg and apparently by any intention to wait for her.
Emma shook her head at the wonder of the immaculate room and hurried after him. His continued adherence to military neatness told her he hadn’t left the life behind so long ago. The steps up to the loft and the space itself met her expectations. Even the narrow bed pushed against the wall might have been found in any military barracks. Shelves held small stacks of clothing and a variety of gadgets beyond Emma’s knowledge. Except one tall open closet that had been converted into a weapons locker.
Vin stored his guns in it, each having its place. He took off his boot and frowned at the damage done to the leather. Then he placed them on a shelf beneath his clothing, a spot obviously left for them. Next he undid his thick belt with its holsters and other loops likely made to hold more weapons. He rolled the belt and set it on another open spot on the shelves.
Emma swept her gaze around, thinking what a great research subject Vin would make if she still worked in the field of psychiatry. He wasn’t old enough to have made a career o
f the military yet it had taken over his way of living. She guessed his age at somewhere in his late twenties.
Vin drew her attention back to him as he unfastened his pants and slipped them down over his slim hips. He wore skin hugging underwear beneath and they hid little of his form from her. Everything about him was lean and muscled. Even here to act as his doctor, she was too much a woman for her gaze not to snag on his privates outlined beneath the clinging material. He didn’t notice her regard as he turned away and flicked on a lamp. He lifted his torn pants to the light and examined the holes. He folded them and hung them on the back of the only chair in the room and then turned back to his shelves.
His silence made Emma feel like an intruder as he plucked a bottle off a shelf and a thin white cloth. He returned to the chair and sat on it, finally fixing his gaze on hers. Without a word, he held out the items to her as if issuing a challenge.
She knelt at his feet, trying to ignore the intimacy of her position. Vin met her gaze with his usual indifferent stare as she took the bottle from him. Sitting back on her heels, she read the label. Neodermal Plus. She’d heard of it but never used it. The formula had been developed to treat wounded military personnel in the field. It contained antibiotics and biological mixture meant to seal over small wounds. Only the military had access to this advance product.
Very little hair grew on Vin’s calf, just some scattered soft, black curls. She used the cloth to wipe away blood oozing from half a dozen punctures. Though Vin’s muscles should have been relaxed, his calf felt like a rock beneath her hand. The Neodermal meant she didn’t have to flush the wounds or inject antibiotics into each one. It took her only a short while, and then her mind had no place to go except to notice the man sitting so quietly in front of her. And the bed only two steps away.
But the weapons locker caught the corner of her eye. She knew almost nothing about guns but his supply looked new and complicated. She’d never forget the whine of the shot he’d fired at the moose.
She screwed the cap back onto the Neodermal while her mind raced. The name Smith was so obviously made up but many of the residents of Hovel Port settled here to escape attention. But maybe Vin wasn’t here to avoid something. Maybe he wasn’t ex-military at but still an active duty soldier. Perhaps his helpfulness to Hovel Port only served as a way to get close.
