Haven 6

Haven 6 Page 12

by Aubrie Dionne

  She smiled and shook her head. “No way. I used an alarm on my locater. I kept think­ing she was go­ing to turn it off, and then I’d be stuck, but the device kept wail­ing. Aquaria found me shak­ing in an air vent.”

  Ri­ley had grown quiet, and he stood by a grove of trees ahead. Striver wondered if Eri’s story had got­ten to him. “Ri­ley, you all right?”

  “No.”

  He gave Eri a ques­tion­ing look and ran up to join him. “What’s the mat­ter?”

  Ri­ley poin­ted to a broken branch and a place where the muck had been flattened in a large circle with two points at the top. “We’re not alone.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Matching Breaths

  Weaver watched as Snipe’s eye­lids drooped and flickered. He’d sat in a nook in the wall where the golden glow couldn’t reach, and Weaver wondered if Snipe res­ted bet­ter in dark­ness or if the sub­stance af­fected him as well. One more minute and the man would fall asleep. Weaver inched over to where Snipe had kicked his bow.

  Where was Jolt? Crusty had been gone for sev­eral hours. Had the old man got­ten lost in the cave?

  “Psssst.”

  Weaver whirled around. The blond pris­oner flicked his head, in­vit­ing him over. Weaver paused, con­sid­er­ing his of­fer. He wanted the lin­guist, but if Snipe caught him as­so­ci­at­ing with the pris­on­ers, he’d be a dead man.

  He glanced at Snipe. The body­guard’s chin res­ted on his chest, rising and fall­ing with his deep breaths. Snipe rarely slept, and not for long. Weaver had pre­cious seconds at most.

  He shuffled over and crouched by the blond man, hid­ing be­hind a wide stalag­mite al­most as tall as he was. White lug­worms crawled on the slick rock at the base, and he kicked them away, won­der­ing how the man could suf­fer be­ing tied. Poor guy must have hun­dreds of spi­derm­ite bites. Weaver whispered so softly, the faintest breeze would cover it. “What do you want?”

  “Free us, and we’ll help you over­power him.” His blue gaze sparkled with in­tens­ity. This was not a man who’d back down eas­ily. Jolt has his hands full with this guy.

  Weaver rubbed his chin. “What makes you think I’m not on his side?”

  “I see the way you look at him, like you want some­thing he has.”

  More like the po­s­i­tion he’s try­ing to in­herit. Weaver bit his tongue, re­main­ing si­lent.

  “What’s your name? Weasel?”

  “Weaver,” he growled. Snipe’s de­mean­ing nick­name al­ways bit him in the butt.

  “Weaver, I’m Litus and this is Mars. Un­tie us and we’ll help you in re­turn.”

  Weaver knew ex­actly what Litus was do­ing: us­ing names to make him more emo­tional, more at­tached.

  “What’s to say you won’t just run away and leave me for dead?” One look at the man-wo­man told him he’d rather she re­main tied up. Her eyes re­minded him of the vi­cious moun­tain vul­tures that could pick out your eye in one swoop.

  “My word.” The blond man’s face was set in stoic lines, mak­ing him look like some hero from the tales of Old Earth. He was a good guy; Weaver was sure of it, and the of­fer temp­ted him. Weaver’s fin­gers itched to un­tie their bind­ings. It would be so easy. But what he really needed was that lin­guist, and he doubted once they were un­tied they’d usher her back to this cave for him. Be­sides, if he let the pris­on­ers free, none of the pir­ates would ever trust him again. He had to work around Snipe, not take the man out. Weaver shook his head. “No deal.”

  Snipe shif­ted against the cave wall and Weaver shuffled back to his seat next to the pool of golden swirls. As Snipe turned his head to check on him, Weaver’s fin­ger traced a sym­bol of three in­ter­sect­ing lines.

  Snipe raised an eye­brow, his gaze burn­ing a hole in Weaver’s fore­head.

  Don’t. Look. Up. Weaver whispered the words, pre­tend­ing he was deep in thought. He scribbled some­thing un­in­tel­li­gible into the sand at his feet. The body­guard sat back, bal­an­cing his blade on the tip of his fin­ger and whistled a sour tune.

  Too late. I should have moved when I had the chance.

  But what would he have done? Even if he over­powered Snipe, he’d have to deal with Jolt and the other pir­ates. His only chance at power was de­ci­pher­ing the sym­bols of the golden pool, and he needed the lin­guist for that.

  Weaver rubbed his temples, try­ing to ig­nore the swirls of golden li­quid con­greg­at­ing around him, ur­ging him to touch the sur­face and break the pat­terns with his fin­ger­tips. He didn’t need any more of those sen­ti­mental dreams mak­ing him weak. He turned away, watch­ing the pris­on­ers in­stead. The glow danced along the cav­ern walls, re­veal­ing red­dish swirls in the rock and then fall­ing back to the shad­ows. Even with his back turned he couldn’t get away from its call. That was power. If only he could har­ness it, turn its dizzy­ing mys­ter­ies against his en­emies.

  Weaver had a frac­tured plan at best with no way to put to­gether the pieces. If only the lin­guist would march right into his cave.

  …

  Eri stood on her tip­toes, gaz­ing over Ri­ley’s shoulder at the broken branch. Her heart raced. Just when she was start­ing to feel com­fort­able, Ri­ley had to pull the muck right from un­der her. “Is it one of the Law­less?”

  Ri­ley pulled a tuft of coarse black hair from a kink in the wood and felt it between his fin­ger­tips. “This hair be­longs to no man.”

  Striver took the tuft and put it up to his nose. “It’s boar hair, all right, but it’s too high up for a swamp boar.”

  The broken branch was eye level with Striver, a good two heads taller than she was. “Maybe the boar jumped?” Her voice rose up in a high-pitched shriek as she ima­gined a mon­strous hulk of that size.

  Striver shook his head. “Boars don’t jump. They’re too heavy.”

  Ri­ley reached be­hind him and pulled out his bow with an ar­row. “How old are these tracks?”

  Striver crouched near the muck and poked his fin­ger through the sur­face. When he pulled it up, wa­ter filled the hole. “An hour at most.”

  “Good. If it’s an hour away, we should just keep go­ing.” Eri’s hand hovered over her laser as she rocked back and forth on her heels in the wa­ter.

  “It’s not that simple.” Striver put a fin­ger up to the wind. “It’s go­ing in the same dir­ec­tion we are.”

  Ri­ley scanned the bog. “Should we circle around?”

  “No. It would take too long, and we’d have to nav­ig­ate deeper wa­ters.”

  Eri nod­ded in agree­ment with Striver. She didn’t want to delay the res­cue any longer, and the thought of deeper wa­ters made fear creep up her throat.

  “What are we go­ing to do, ride its tail?” Ri­ley looked at both of them like they were crazy.

  Eri put her hands on her hips. “What’s the mat­ter; you scared?”

  “No.” Ri­ley scanned the jungle around them as if a massive boar would show up right then and prove them wrong. “I’m not stu­pid, either.”

  Striver shrugged. “The deeper wa­ters may have leech­ers.”

  Ri­ley’s hand tightened on his bow. “Any­thing’s bet­ter than leech­ers. You’ve got me on that one.” His chest heaved. “Let’s go, straight into its tracks. At least we’ll have the ad­vant­age of sur­prise.”

  Striver nod­ded to­ward Eri’s leg and brought out his own bow. “You may want to take out your laser. Just in case.”

  Oh, that’s re­as­sur­ing. She tugged the laser out of the hol­ster and in­put the code to un­lock it. The pro­ton cham­ber buzzed and warmed un­der­neath her fin­gers. Lasers used to scare her, but now the tingling warmth com­for­ted her. “Lead on.”

  They walked un­til her feet felt like lead and her muscles ached. The swamp stretched on forever, an end­less neth­er­world of mossy trees un­der hazy light. Her worry over the boar di­min­ished with the mono­tony. To keep he
r mind oc­cu­pied, she thought of all the ques­tions she wanted to ask Striver, but Ri­ley’s pres­ence kept her from say­ing any­thing.

  “Why’d they choose you for this ex­plor­at­ory mis­sion, any­way?” Ri­ley asked. He turned his head in her dir­ec­tion and as­sessed. “I mean, you don’t look like a war­rior, or even a sci­ent­ist.”

  “What do I look like, then?” Eri could have re­por­ted him for pre­ju­dice on the Her­it­age. You’re not on deck twenty-seven any more, though.

  “I don’t know. Maybe a teacher?”

  Striver slashed a path through a mossy over­hang with his hand knife. “What is your job, Eri?” The genu­ine in­terest in his voice made her want to an­swer.

  “I’m a lin­guist.”

  Ri­ley wrinkled his broad nose. “What’s that?”

  Eri took a deep breath, know­ing they’d prob­ably think it was the most bor­ing job in the whole uni­verse. “I study all of Old Earth’s lan­guages. I can speak and trans­late Latin, Greek, French, you name it. The com­mander thought my team would need an in­ter­preter. She had no idea you’d be from Old Earth, and would speak Eng­lish, no less.”

  “Eng­lish was the primary lan­guage on Out­post Omega.” Striver brushed back a long branch. “But all those other lan­guages—I can’t ima­gine how much dis­cip­line it would take to learn them. That’s really im­press­ive.”

  “So you’re not even ne­ces­sary?” Ri­ley’s lips held a hint of a smile.

  Eri looked at the muck caked on her boots. Ri­ley had won this round. “Afraid not.” Her voice came out gloom­ier than she’d ex­pec­ted.

  “Hey, I bet you’re more im­port­ant than you think.” Striver gave her a mean­ing­ful glance. “Look at you now, go­ing to res­cue your team. You’re prob­ably the most im­port­ant col­on­ist there is.”

  “Only if we suc­ceed.”

  “If we suc­ceed?” Striver shook his head. “If you knew me at all, you’d know I re­fuse to fail. We’ll get your team out of there. I prom­ise.”

  Be­fore Eri could re­spond, the leaves rustled be­hind them and every­one froze. The stench of rot and mold waf­ted from the jungle. Eri covered her nose, hold­ing back a gag.

  “I thought you said it was in front of us,” Ri­ley hissed un­der his breath.

  “It was.” Striver brought up his bow and cocked an ar­row. “It must have circled around to catch us off guard.”

  “Non­sense. A boar’s brain is as big as a pearl berry.” Ri­ley brought up his own bow.

  “Not this one’s.” Striver ges­tured for Eri to join them in a line. She brought out her laser and aimed it in the dir­ec­tion of the smell.

  A snort ex­ploded from the un­der­growth, fol­lowed by splash­ing. The ground poun­ded un­der her feet, and waves spread in con­cent­ric circles around her legs. Eri’s hands shook as she held up the laser.

  Striver’s arm muscles tightened. “Here it comes.”

  A snout, big as the front of Eri’s drop ship, par­ted the trees and two tusks dripped wa­ter from either side. It stared at them with ra­ging black eyes, and the hairs on its hide prickled up in a Mo­hawk.

  Eri’s whole arm shook as she tried to hold her laser steady. “Should we shoot?”

  “Wait. I don’t want to pro­voke it.” Striver cocked his ar­row.

  “It already looks mad as all hell,” Ri­ley whispered be­side them.

  Stomp­ing the wa­ter, the beast ex­haled, and puffs of steam rose. It charged, loom­ing over their heads, big­ger than an Old Earth bear.

  Striver shouted, “Shoot!” He re­leased an ar­row and the shaft sank into the beast’s shoulder. Ri­ley fired an­other one into its snout. Eri fired her laser, but the re­coil sent the stream over the beast’s head. The boar kept char­ging, un­deterred.

  “Spread out. Run for cover!” Striver grabbed Eri’s arm and pulled her side­ways. Ri­ley ran in the op­pos­ite dir­ec­tion, dis­ap­pear­ing be­hind a stand of ferns. The beast skid­ded past them, splash­ing wa­ter on Eri’s back like a tidal wave. It snorted and squealed low and loudly as it circled back.

  “In here.” Striver pushed her to­ward a hole in one of the massive trees. Eri slipped in, cower­ing with her back against the in­side of the trunk. Striver ducked in after her.

  The boar’s foot­steps poun­ded in Eri’s gut. Striver put a fin­ger to his mouth and raised his bow to­ward the open­ing. The boar’s snout col­lided into the trunk, sniff­ing. Drops of snot sprayed on Eri’s chest. She fell back­ward, drop­ping her laser. The gun sank into the wa­ter at her feet. “Dam­mit! I hope it’s wa­ter­proof!”

  Striver shot an ar­row into the nos­tril and the beast roared and pulled back.

  “Do you think you got it?” Eri whispered, creep­ing for­ward and reach­ing into the wa­ter for her laser.

  Striver shrugged, pulling an­other ar­row out of the bag on his back. “You can never be too sure.”

  Eri inched for­ward, stretch­ing her arm out as far as she could. Slimy grasses en­tangled her fin­gers and a scaly worm slithered against her arm. She in­stinct­ively yanked her hand out of the wa­ter. What had Striver said about leech­ers and their teeth? She couldn’t re­mem­ber, but now wasn’t the time to think about it. Her laser was her only de­fense in this wild world. Don’t think; just reach in and feel around.

  The boar roared, the sound com­ing from only a few meters away. She didn’t have much time.

  She jammed her hand back un­der the wa­ter and reached down as far as she could, the wa­ter reach­ing her neck. Swamp reeds splashed in her face, and she spit them out, gulp­ing down brown wa­ter. Her fin­gers brushed a hard, slick sur­face, and she grabbed onto the bar­rel of the gun. A hoof scratched at the bark of the tree right above her and Eri screamed. She turned the laser around and fired into the leath­ery fore­leg as it came down. Pieces of bark rained on her face.

  Striver yelled and fell to­ward her. “Eri, watch out.”

  Eri pulled the trig­ger again, and the light seared a black spot on the boar’s leg right above the hoof. The creature wailed in agony, then dis­ap­peared back into the jungle.

  Striver pulled her to­ward the in­ner trunk. He shook as he held her. “That was close. Too close.”

  She couldn’t tell if her heart raced from the at­tack or be­cause his arms en­vel­oped her. “Where’s it go­ing?”

  “Hope­fully it’s not com­ing back.” They huddled, wait­ing for an­other sound. Eri wel­comed his warmth against her bare skin. He smelled like fire smoke and pine, wil­der­ness and fresh air. His chest was hard against her shoulder. She turned her head, her nose brush­ing the firm line of his chin. She met his gaze, and the in­tens­ity brew­ing in the green flecks drew her in. They breathed to­gether in sync, her lips so close to his. If she was go­ing to die, at least she’d die happy.

  Ri­ley screamed as the ground poun­ded again.

  “Stay here; I’m go­ing after him.” Striver pulled away from her and her heart ripped in two.

  He dis­ap­peared into the jungle and Eri bolted after him.

  The boar had cornered Ri­ley against a massive man­grove, the white tusks stuck into a trunk on either side. Pinned against the tree, Ri­ley had no room to re­lease an­other ar­row. He kicked at its toothy mouth with his feet.

  Striver fired at the boar’s back, but the an­imal was too fo­cused on his prey to no­tice.

  Eri brought up her laser just as Striver jumped onto the boar’s back and climbed, grip­ping hand­fuls of hair. He po­si­tioned him­self on top of the boar and brought out a small knife. The beast pulled back, free­ing its tusks from the tree and reared up, throw­ing Striver to the ground be­fore he could plunge the knife into its back. Striver rolled over but didn’t have enough time to get back up again be­fore the boar charged him.

  Eri’s hand tightened on the laser. This is it.

  Run­ning along­side the boar and scream­ing her lungs raw,
Eri aimed for its black eye and fired. The first shots missed by cen­ti­meters, but she kept shoot­ing un­til the trail of light fired dir­ectly into its eye. The beast fell for­ward and slid against Striver, push­ing them both to­ward the man­grove forest. Her heart shattered.

  Oh no. I’ve killed Striver.

  She ran through the wa­ter to where the beast stilled. Striver’s hand poked from un­der its snout. She grabbed onto his hand and held it against her chest. Please, please, please be alive.

  “Striver? Striver, wake up!”

  There was no re­sponse, leav­ing an empty hole in her gut.

  Ri­ley came up on the other side. “Is he okay?”

  Eri dropped Striver’s hand and grabbed a tusk, the ivory smooth and slick un­der her fin­ger­tips. The beast didn’t budge. “Help me. We have to lift the head.”

  She knelt in the muck and braced her hands un­der the beast’s snout, feel­ing the course hair and leath­ery hide un­der her fin­ger­tips. The stench gagged her throat, and she held her breath to avoid chok­ing.

  Ri­ley shouted, “On the count of three, push the snout to­ward me.”

  Eri nod­ded.

  “One.”

  “Two,” she chanted with him.

  “Three.”

  They heaved, push­ing the weight up enough to shift the snout to the side. Ri­ley fell back on his butt, splash­ing into the wa­ter.

  Striver lay on his back between two massive tree roots arcing up from the muck. His eyes were closed. Thank­fully, the roots braced the brunt of the boar’s fall. Eri fell on top of Striver, hold­ing his face in her hands. “Wake up!”

  No re­sponse. She slapped his cheek. “Wake up, dam­mit!”

  His eye­lids fluttered. “Oh­h­h­h­hhh, man. I feel like a ton of logs just fell on me.”

  Re­lief flooded her nerves. “Is any­thing broken?”

  He moved his legs and his arms. “I don’t think so. Eri, you saved my life.”

  “More like she dropped a huge-ass mon­ster on you to squash you.” Ri­ley got up and wrung out his pants.

  “Striver, I’m sorry. There was no other way.”

 

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