Girl of Blood: A Science Fiction Dystopian Novel (The Expulsion Project Book 3)

by Norma Hinkens

  I check to make sure Velkan is breathing regularly, and adjust his head against the chair to make him more comfortable.

  Buir’s eyes dart to mine when a crackling comes over the radio. “Encrypted channel,” she says. “It could be Phin and Ayma.”

  I reach for the headset lying on the console and wipe my sweaty palms on my jacket. “This is the Zebulux, come in.”

  “This is the stealth fighter responding,” Ayma replies. “On approach to initiate landing.”

  I let out a muffled yelp of delight. “Ayma! You’ve no idea how good it is to hear your voice again.”

  She laughs. “I have someone here whose voice you’re going to be even more glad to hear.”

  “Hey, Trattora,” Phin says.

  I gulp, tearing up at his deep, resonant tone. Up until this moment, I was afraid to let myself believe that The Four had survived, and that we would be together again. The relief is intoxicating.

  “Are you okay?” I manage to sputter.

  “Not bad for a dead guy.”

  “So not funny. How did you escape?”

  “Ayma bribed the guard on duty to leave my holding unit unlocked. Branthorx smuggled me in a uniform and mask, and I walked out in plain sight.”

  “And Ayma was waiting at the military airbase?” I ask.

  Phin chuckles. “Yeah, Branthorx rigged up an old, retired shuttle for us and, once we were airborne, Ayma remotely activated the stealth fighter. We flew the shuttle straight into the fighter’s cargo bay and disappeared off the radar before the Syndicate could dispatch a single armored ship.”

  “Prepping for landing,” Ayma chimes in. “We’ll check back in with you once we’re down.”

  The connection clicks off and a moment later, the door to the control room slides open. Ghil strides through, grinning broadly and waving Crank’s gun. “Found him!”

  “Where?” Buir gasps.

  “Sleeping like a baby draped over the toilet bowl.” Ghil slips his arms around Buir’s waist. “He realized too late what we’d done, and tried to empty his stomach. I locked him in, but that won’t hold him for long once he’s awake.”

  Buir buries her head in Ghil’s neck, her shoulders shaking in relief. “I didn’t want you to kill him, but I knew you would do it to protect me if it came down to it.”

  Ghil wraps her tightly in his arms and peers over her head at me. “Any word from Phin and Ayma?”

  “We just spoke to them. They’re coming in to land.”

  Ghil releases Buir tenderly, slides into the pilot seat and flicks on the communication receiver. “This is the Zebulux, do you copy, stealth fighter?”

  “Touching down,” Ayma replies.

  Buir and I peer over Ghil’s shoulder through the viewing window, but there’s no sign of a ship in the billowing red dust clouding the craggy landscape.

  “Is the cloaking technology deployed?” Ghil asks.

  “Turning it off now,” Ayma replies.

  We cluster around, holding our breath, until the stealth fighter slowly materializes in the distance through the churning columns of silt. I let out a cheer, exhilarated by the sight of the ship that carried us safely on our mission to Mhakerta and back. With the stealth fighter at our disposal, we can salvage our plan to liberate Cwelt from Parthelon and the Maulers.

  “Zebulux, do you copy?” Phin’s voice says.

  “Loud and clear,” Ghil replies.

  “Are Sarth and Crank contained?”

  “Sedated—they won’t be a problem for the next few hours.”

  “That will give you plenty of time to reach us. The reading on my console puts you at only a quarter mile away,” Phin says. “We’re on a relative bearing of 059, mark 11. Haven’t spotted any inhabitants, but I’ll reactivate the cloaking technology to keep us hidden just to be on the safe side. I won’t open the cargo door until you’re at the ramp. The wind out there’s dredging up a storm of dirt.”

  Ghil hands the guns to me and Buir, and then lifts Velkan back onto the cart. “We’ll take the LunaTrekker that Velkan modified on Namuto. It’ll give us more protection from the wind.”

  We fall silent as we wheel the cart back out into the deserted hallway, half-fearful our voices will be enough to wake Sarth and Crank from their drug-induced state. When we come to the stairwell leading down to the lower level, Ghil reaches for Velkan and slings him over his shoulder, turning down our offers of help. “Easier if I do it alone,” he grunts. He descends the stairs steadily, shifting Velkan’s weight as necessary until he makes it down to the cargo bay.

  Buir and I help him transfer Velkan into the LunaTrekker and attempt to make him comfortable on the back seat. Ghil undoes the cables securing the vehicle to the floor and slides in behind the controller.

  “I’ll open the cargo doors,” I say. I dart across to the control panel on the wall and depress the button with shaking fingers, all the while keeping a close eye on the metal door at the top of the stairwell for any sign of a groggy, but enraged Crank. The shrieking of the wind fills my ears as the cargo door rises. I duck my head against the fine red grit that swirls inside the bay and up my nostrils, and race back to the LunaTrekker, eyes streaming. Ghil dons a pair of goggles and starts the engine. “Shield your eyes,” I tell Buir. “That dust stings like crazy.”

  Ghil floors the accelerator and we surge down the ramp and out across the rocky terrain. We’ve only gone a few hundred feet before we come to an abrupt stop that almost sends Velkan sliding off the seat and onto the floorboards.

  “What’s wrong?” I yell, blinking to clear my vision as I peer over Ghil’s shoulder.

  My chilled skin prickles when the dust settles enough to see. A huge winged lizard with skin-like chainmail is draped across our path, blocking our passage to the stealth fighter. Red-tinged saliva drips from its menacing jaws, its serrated teeth sporting the shredded remnants of a recent meal.

  “What is that thing?” Buir asks in a plaintive whisper.

  “I don’t know,” I reply, shaking my head as I gape at it. It looks like it could rip the LunaTrekker apart with one swipe of its clawed foot, but I decide against sharing that observation with Buir. “It’s just eaten so it won’t be interested in us,” I say instead.

  The words are barely out of my mouth before the creature turns a milky-green gaze on the LunaTrekker. Its tongue, longer than a fully-grown sand sniper, shoots out in our direction. We shrink back in our seats, as the creature studies us, its appetite apparently not sated at all. The spines along its bottle-green wings and the ridge of its back bristle as it contorts its body into one huge writhing muscle, digging its dagger-like talons into the silt beneath its scaly feet. My eyes widen when I realize it’s gearing up to thrash us with its massive tail.

  “Watch out!” I yell to Ghil, but he’s already backing up, the LunaTrekker churning up a coral dust cloud that half-veils the creature from sight as we beat a hasty retreat. Within seconds, Ghil whips the vehicle around and starts powering back between the boulders in the direction of the Zebulux.

  I blink through the vortex of dust, disbelieving what looms in front of us.

  9

  Crank stands in the cargo bay of the Zebulux, a wide grin framing his metal teeth as the ramp closes on our approach, leaving us stranded outside the ship.

  Buir’s fingernails dig into my flesh, but I’m too numb from shock to feel the pain.

  Ghil mutters something unintelligible under his breath as he revs the LunaTrekker up and turns it back around to face the monstrous lizard. By the look on his face, I bet he’s wishing now he did more than just lock his brother in the bathroom.

  “We can’t go back that way,” Buir wails. “That thing will kill us.”

  “If we stay put, we’re already dead,” Ghil yells, as he shoves the controller forward. “If that beast doesn’t eviscerate us, Crank will blast us into oblivion with plasma cannon fire.”

  My blood turns to ice in my veins. It didn’t occur to me that Crank might turn the shi
p’s weapons on us. It’s bad enough that he effectively delivered us into the jaws of this creature. “Ghil’s right.” I squeeze Buir’s hand. “We have to keep moving.”

  Through the thick cloud of red dust kicking up, I can barely make out the lizard’s outline up ahead. Its spiny back is arched as if preparing to strike at anything that dares to cross its path, but it keeps its distance from the ship. Judging from the discolored scaly patches on its armored skin, I’d hazard a guess that it’s had a run in with some ship’s weaponry before. Ghil accelerates and tries to veer around the creature. To my horror, it lumbers toward us, the folds of skin around its neck swaying to and fro as its thick legs pound the dirt sending flurries of red silt skyward.

  “We’re going to be trapped between the lizard and the Zebulux if we stay here,” Ghil says, backing up again. “I’m going to charge the lizard and then divert at the last minute down one of those channels through the rocks to our left. Hold on to Velkan.”

  Before I can protest, he picks up speed again and heads straight toward the massive beast. Its scales ripple as it writhes in anticipation. Ghil holds his course and then, just as the lizard is poised to strike, he swerves violently left, forcing the LunaTrekker down a narrow gorge between the craggy mountains. The engine screams as we hurtle over rocks down the tapering belt of a pathway so steep and narrow the sunlight scarcely reaches us.

  Our speed slows as Ghil navigates our increasingly tight passage, rapidly filling up with ever larger boulders. The rock walls of the gorge are so tight now I could reach out and trail my fingertips along them. The LunaTrekker inches along, close to being crushed between the sheer rock faces. The only redeeming factor in this predicament is that the lizard won’t be able to squeeze its way in here. I’m not sure how we’re ever going to get back out. The gorge isn’t opening up the further we drive, and my hunch is we won’t be able to make it through to the other side.

  My worst fears are realized seconds later when the encroaching rock walls scour the sides of the LunaTrekker with an ominous scraping sound. Ghil slows to a halt. “Kinda stating the obvious, but we’ve gone as far as we can,” he says dejectedly. He lets the engine run for a little longer, before accepting our predicament and shutting it off.

  We huddle in the dark gorge for a few minutes, collecting our thoughts. My heartbeat thuds against my ribs so hard it hurts. For the immediate future, we’re safe from both the creature and Crank, but this is far from an ideal situation. I check to make sure that Velkan is doing okay, and gently brush the silt from his face. Hard to believe he slept through all of this, even with a sedative.

  “Try contacting Ayma and Phin,” Ghil says. “Let them know what’s happened.”

  I do my best to activate my MicroComm, but I’m unable to pick up a frequency. “No signal in this gorge,” I say, exasperated.

  “We’re trapped.” Buir says. “We can’t even open the doors.”

  “We can crawl out the front if we have to,” I reply. “At least we’re safe for now. We just need to come up with a plan to reach the stealth fighter.”

  Ghil raises his brows at me. “I don’t know what kind of plan you’re thinking of, but the only one that makes sense to me is to sit tight and wait until that lizard disappears.”

  “What if it doesn’t?” I ask. “We can’t stay here for long without food or water.” I peer out at the sheer rock face on either side of us. “I could climb up and take a quick scout around. Maybe I can reach the stealth fighter from the other side.”

  Ghil looks skeptical. “You’ll never make it to the top. Those rock faces are far too steep.”

  Buir slants a brow at him. “You’ve never seen Trattora in action. She can climb as well as any shram in the Cweltan mountains.”

  I throw her a mock disgruntled look. “That’s the best analogy you could come up with?”

  She gives a wry grin. “There aren’t many people I’d compare to a shram. If you’re going to do this, you’d better go now while you still have light to see by.” She hands me an oil-stained rag from the floor bed. “Wrap that around your head. It stinks, but it might protect you from the dust.”

  I lean over Velkan and kiss his forehead softly before I leave. He gives a weak moan and stirs. “I think he’s coming around,” I say excitedly. I sink back down and wait for another few minutes, but to my disappointment, his eyes stay sealed shut and his breathing remains deep and rhythmic. I brush my hand over his cheek and resign myself to leaving him in Buir’s care for as long as it takes me to scale the peaks fencing us in. Once I have a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view of our surroundings, I can work out how we can get out of here without being eaten alive.

  I slither into the front seat next to Ghil and wrap the cloth Buir gave me firmly around my face, trying not to gag on the fumes.

  “Don’t take any chances,” Ghil says, as I squeeze out through the front opening. “If it’s too steep, come back and we’ll figure out something else.”

  I climb up on the roof of the LunaTrekker, brace myself against the wind, and peer down the gorge as far as I can see in either direction. Only a thin strip of hazy daylight greets me. The gnawing wind is picking up, and grit and sand spiral down the narrow channel scratching at the exposed parts of my face. I adjust the cloth and pull the neck of my suit up over my mouth and nose to protect myself as best I can, before turning my attention to the arduous climb ahead.

  I feel along the flat rock face above me until I come to a generous enough crack to slip my fingers into. Once my grip is secure, I push the toes of my boots into a crevice and pull myself upward. I repeat the process, seeking out protruding ledges or tiny ribs of rock to anchor my feet before feeling around above my head for another gap to wedge my fingers into. Some of the cracks in the rock are so small I can only push my fingers in as far as the first knuckle. Sweat trickles down my back and dampens my palms. Several times, I find myself hanging precariously on the strength of my taut fingers until I can gain a secure enough foothold to support my weight.

  The climb proves to be more technical than I had anticipated, and the higher I go, the more haltingly I move. Wind buffets my face and showers of shale slip out from beneath me at odd intervals, spooking me. Clinging spread-eagled to the face of the rock, I chance a glance down at the LunaTrekker, a mere speck on the valley floor below me. I can’t allow myself to think about how I’m going to get back down. My arms and fingers are tiring, but I have to keep pushing upward. It’s the only way I’m getting out of the situation I’ve put myself in.

  When I finally crest the peak, I breathe out a huge sigh of relief. I double over on my thighs, my legs shaking beneath me. The mountains I grew up climbing on Cwelt are a lot more forgiving and full of welcoming nooks and crannies to hide out in or rest in. These sheer rock faces are cold and impenetrable, offering only certain death in the face of the slightest error of judgement or misstep. When I’ve had a chance to catch my breath and calm my racing heartbeat, I tent my eyes and peer around me, studying the lay of the land. The air up here is free of silt, but foggy, and visibility is sketchy. Minutes go by before I catch even a partial view of the valley below.

  The Zebulux hasn’t departed yet. It’s anyone’s guess what Crank is playing at. If Sarth is still unconscious, he might be waiting until she wakes up before he decides whether to abandon us or hunt us down. I can’t tell if the giant lizard is obscured behind the fog, or if it has taken off, enraged by the fact that it can’t get close to the prey it sighted. There’s no sign of the stealth fighter either, but I know it’s still in position. Ayma and Phin won’t take off without us.

  I swivel slowly on the mountaintop, surveying the landscape as far as my eye can see. From here, the planet appears to be equally bleak and barren in every direction. I can’t spot a river, but the lizard must be getting water from somewhere. Movement on the horizon catches my eye and I pause, scrunching my eyes up until the fog lifts enough to allow me a clear line of sight.

  The breath vacates my lungs. A
seething emerald mass of lizards, some larger than the one we encountered, bask among the boulders on the south-facing foothills. I gulp back an acidic tang. I can’t possibly reach the stealth fighter from this side of the mountain without passing that nest of reptiles, which means I have no choice but to attempt a retreat down the sheer face I just scaled. Our only chance of escape is to back out of the gorge and hope that lizard has retreated to its lounge.

  With a heavy heart, I make my way back to the edge of the cliff and assess my descent. It’s treacherous, nothing I would ordinarily attempt, but then I’m out of options—caught between a swarming mass of monstrous lizards and a ship manned by two of the vilest individuals in the Netherscape who won’t hesitate to kill me if they get their hands on me.

  An ominous shadow falls over me. Glancing skyward, my stomach knots with fear. A giant wingspan hovers several hundred feet above me circling in a pattern that clearly indicates I’m being stalked. I scramble behind a boulder and hunker down, desperately trying to burrow out of sight. One way or another, I have to get off this mountaintop, and soon—before word spreads that there’s imported food on the menu tonight. I wait for several agonizing minutes until the winged predator loses interest and flies off, apparently convinced I’ve disappeared into a crevasse for the night.

  Cautiously, I peek my head out from behind the boulder. When I’m certain the sky is clear, I make my way back to the cliff face and begin the perilous climb back down to the LunaTrekker, reminding myself each treacherous inch of the journey that anything’s preferable to being picked apart by a giant lizard on the mountaintop.

  By the time I plant my feet back on the roof of the LunaTrekker, I’m gasping for breath and sweating profusely, my knuckles bloodied and swollen. But all that is forgotten when Velkan sticks his head out. My heart lurches in my chest as I struggle to hold back tears of relief.

  He climbs out and wraps me up in his strong arms, closing out the terror of the climb, the horror on the other side of the mountain, even the desperation of the fugitive life that awaits us if we don’t succeed in clearing our names in the eyes of the Syndicate. Nothing matters but this moment, and in this moment, I have everything I could possibly want or need.