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

by Norma Hinkens

  “I’ll go across first and test the route. You’ll follow next, and do exactly what I tell you to do. Remember, don’t look down, and don’t think about anything other than each instruction I give you.”

  I glance over at Ghil and Velkan and they give me grim nods in return. They realize we have no choice but to plow ahead if we’re to make the shuttle pick up. This is not the time to air their reservations when Buir is already a nervous wreck. If we show any hesitation, she might panic and refuse to cross at all, and I can’t let that happen. I slow my breathing down to calm myself. I’m not afraid of falling—I trust my ability and experience—but I’m scared of failing my friends when they need my skill most. It’s my responsibility to get us across safely.

  Turning back to the damaged trail, I mentally break down my next steps, focusing my mind on each specific task at hand. Tuning out the tumult of war in the skies overhead, I scan the rock above me for a good handhold or some sturdy roots to grab onto. With only a few inches of dirt beneath our feet, we’ll need all the help we can get to navigate past this treacherous section and get back on sure footing. I place one foot out on the remnants of the trail, and give the exposed roots above me a tentative tug.

  The roots hold fast and I use them for support as I begin pulling myself inch-by-excruciating-inch across the ribbon of dirt below me. Time slows, as I painstakingly move farther across the ledge, one tiny step at a time, checking gingerly with the toe of my boot to make sure the ground beneath me doesn’t dislodge in a waterfall of dirt, before I place my full weight on it. My breathing is steady and deep, a pragmatic mental silence blocking out the ambient sounds of war as I persist on focusing on only one small step at a time.

  When I reach the safety of the undamaged section of the trail, I call across to Buir. “The ground is secure, it will hold you. You can do this. You only need to believe what I’m telling you, and whatever you do, don’t look down.”

  She bites her lip and gives a clipped nod, her gaze locked on mine. Ghil holds her hand until she steps out on the dirt ledge and reaches for the first roots I direct her to grab a hold of.

  “Don’t over-grip or you’ll tighten up,” I warn her. “Use the roots to keep your weight steady as you shuffle.”

  She feels with her toe for her next step, and hesitantly adjusts her stance to edge sideways another few inches.

  “Good,” I call to her. “Now, above your head to the right is a crack in the rock you can use as a handhold. Tell me when you’ve found it.”

  “Got it,” she gasps.

  “Make sure you have a good grip and get your balance before you take your next step,” I say. “Don’t worry, you’re doing great.”

  Her face is a mask of concentration as she extends her leg to the right and feels for her next foothold. As she taps her boot around, a shower of dirt falls from overhead, startling her. She lets out a terrified yelp and freezes.

  Ghil lets out a panicked yell in response, and I signal frantically to Velkan to silence him. I need Buir’s full attention if I’m going to successfully coach her across the rest of this harrowing section.

  I stretch out my hands toward her. “You’re all right,” I reassure her. “It was only a little dirt. Nothing happened. Stay calm.”

  She lays her cheek on the exposed dirt in front of her, facing back to Ghil and Velkan. At first, she remains motionless, but after a moment her body begins to shake uncontrollably. My mind fires in all directions, as the gravity of the situation registers.

  “Turn around and look at me!” I yell to Buir. “Now!”

  Slowly, she turns her head, spread-eagled like a silver moth on the mountain, the naked fear in her eyes more frightening to me than the drop beneath her. If I don’t force her to get a grip on herself now, fear will handcuff her where she is, and ultimately take her down.

  “You’re only three feet away from me now, Buir. Three feet. That’s all you have left to navigate across. Do you understand?”

  Her pupils are wide in her ashen face, her chin trembling as she gives the tiniest of nods.

  I take a knee so I’m eye level with her. “Remember what I said earlier? I want you to focus only on the words I’m saying to you. Now, stretch out your right foot and tap your toe around until you find the ledge.”

  She moves stiffly, her limbs no longer fluid extensions of her body, but puppet-like and awkward, as if bending to a will not her own. I smile across at her, hyper-aware of how critical it is now more than ever that she relaxes. “Awesome,” I say. “Now inhale and exhale a deep breath.”

  She takes a breath so shallow I can’t even see her chest move in and out, but I praise her nonetheless, and tell her to take a second one just like it. I nod encouragingly. “You’re going to be holding my hand any second now, Buir. First, I want you to grab the roots above your head and use them as leverage one more time to take another step.”

  The wait is excruciating as she clings to the roots with shaking fingers, but she finally shifts her weight to her right foot and shuffles toward me. My heartbeat ratchets up as the distance between us closes. I reach out my hand and give her a defining smile that assures her victory is at hand. “One more step, then grab hold of my hand. I’ve got you from here.”

  Her nostrils quiver like a mare about to bolt. I try not to blink, half-afraid I’ll lose her in the split second my eyes close. After another agonizing wait, she sidesteps one last time and clasps my wrist in a death grip. I yank her onto the trail with more force than is necessary, and we tumble to the ground in a heap, shaking with relief as we wrap our arms tightly around each other.

  “I wasn’t sure you could hear me anymore,” I say in a hoarse whisper.

  “I knew you wouldn’t let me go if I could only reach you,” Buir replies, tears spilling freely down her cheeks.

  “We need to help Velkan and Ghil now,” I say squeezing her gently. I take her face in my hands and look into her eyes. “The best thing you can do to help Ghil across is to believe in him. No more tears, no whimpering, no clapping your hand to your mouth. I need you to fight for him.”

  She nods, and this time there is no tremor in the chin she holds up high. “I know you will get them both across. I expect no less from my future chieftain.”

  I hold her gaze for a long moment, acknowledging the faith she is placing in me, before turning my attention to the other side of the trail. I’ll take Ghil first. I don’t want to make Buir wait any longer than necessary to have him back at her side. “You’re up, Ghil,” I call over to him.

  Velkan extends a hand and helps Ghil ease out on the ledge. He navigates gingerly across the damaged section of the trail, following the same set of instructions I gave Buir as to where to plant his feet, and how to secure the best handholds before shifting his weight. My chest is so tight I can barely breathe. All I can think about is how inconsolable Buir will be if anything happens. Once or twice, Ghil’s face scrunches in pain, but he doesn’t stop moving until he reaches the other side and steps into Buir’s arms. They embrace for the longest time, their eyes glistening with tears when they pull apart.

  I turn my attention back to Velkan just as a blast of auto cannon fire obliterates the remaining ledge of dirt between us.

  16

  I stare, horrorstruck, at Velkan marooned on the other side of the ravaged trail. The tiny ledge of dirt that Ghil, Buir and I navigated across moments earlier has been reduced to a thumb’s width. What was a treacherous crossing before, has become staggeringly dangerous, suicidal even—but then so is staying where Velkan is stranded. The body poachers could come flying around the corner at any minute. We need to reach the shuttle before it’s too late.

  Scanning the bombed-out section of the trail carefully, I assess the situation. Velkan’s best chance of getting across lies in taking the same route we did, and using the same nooks and crannies for his fingers that we used. As for footholds now that the ledge is all but demolished, I have an unorthodox idea, but I need to get into position before anyone c
an talk me out of it.

  “Wait there!” I yell across to Velkan, my voice barely audible over the unrelenting gunfire.

  Buir’s eyes widen in alarm when she grasps what I’m about to do. “Trattora! No!”

  Ignoring her plea, I climb back out on the ravaged mountain face, swinging from one handhold to the next like a monkey as I drop down several feet beneath the blown-out trail. My fingers are honed from years of climbing on Cwelt, strong enough to let me dangle for a few minutes at a time—which should give me enough time for what I have in mind. I inch my way back over to Velkan, breathing evenly with each movement, careful to keep my muscles relaxed.

  “I’m going to cross beneath you,” I say firmly. “Rest your toes on my shoulders when you can’t find another foothold.”

  He shakes his head, his eyes flashing. “You’re crazy. I’m not going to risk sending you sliding down the mountain.”

  “You won’t. Trust me, I know how to position myself in a stance where I can support your weight for a few seconds at a time. Just keep edging smoothly across until you reach the other side of the trail.” I hesitate. “I’m not moving off this mountain without you so the longer you make me hang here, the harder it will become for me.”

  He deliberates for a second or two. Angry shouts reach our ears from the landing pad. My heart races. The body poachers must have discovered the bodies. Faced with the resolute expression on my face, Velkan makes his decision. He tightens his lips in a sober grimace and stretches his fingers into the nearest crevice above his head.

  I give him a reassuring nod as he looks down once more and gingerly places his boot on my shoulder.

  “All good,” I call up to him. “Now grab those roots to your right, they’ll hold you.”

  He grunts as he tentatively swings his weight inward and reaches above him.

  I focus intently on each incremental step, studying the dirt face in front of me as I force my breath steadily in and out. Every time Velkan shuffles, I scrunch my eyes shut to prevent myself from being blinded by falling grit. If I can’t see my next step clearly, it could be fatal. If Velkan slips, I know he will do everything in his power not to drag me down too, but the truth is, I would rather die with him. I can’t imagine life without him anymore, or maybe I can and I don’t want that life. I blink rapidly, steeling myself to refocus on the technical moves I need to execute.

  We exchange a few, terse words, only what is necessary to ensure we are both in sync as our limbs alternate steps. We move of one accord, avoiding each other’s gaze, desperate to keep the emotion out of decisions that could mean the difference between life and death. To my relief the shouting from the landing pad has faded so I assume we are not being pursued. The injured body poacher must have died of his wounds. With any luck, the other body poachers think their men on the landing pad were killed by overhead fire.

  I glance up when we’re almost all the way across and give Ghil a quick nod as he reaches out a hand to help us.

  “You first!” I yell up to Velkan.

  He shifts his weight and steps off my shoulder, grabbing Ghil’s wrist and leaping to safety in one fluid movement. I shift position and spring onto the trail beside him before succumbing to dizzying relief, my knees collapsing beneath me. Spasms of pain shoot through my aching wrists. Velkan wraps me up in his arms and buries his face in my neck. “You shouldn’t have done that,” he says. “But I’m glad you did.”

  “We need to get moving,” I say, when we pull apart.

  Velkan helps me to my feet and we follow Ghil and Buir the rest of the way along the trail around the mountain to a sandy ledge that juts out twenty feet or so from the mountain.

  “This must be where they plan on landing the shuttle,” I say, activating my MicroComm.

  Velkan nods, sinking down to rest beside Buir and Ghil.

  “Ayma! Can you hear me?” I strain to make out her response above the din of the fight.

  “Loud and clear. Where are you?”

  “We’re at the ledge on the other side of the mountain.”

  “Give us a few minutes to get back into range,” she replies. “We had to move further away from the fighting. I’ll touch base with you when we’re a go.”

  I disconnect the link and turn to the others. “They’ll be a few minutes.”

  The words are scarcely through my lips before the unmistakable thrum of an engine fills the air above us. We scramble to our feet and dive for cover behind the nearest boulders at the base of the ledge.

  I turn to the others in dismay. “It can’t be them yet. Ayma said they were out of range.”

  “It’s a shuttle.” Ghil frowns. “I can tell by the noise of the engine.”

  “It doesn’t sound like it’s running properly,” Velkan mutters, drawing his weapon. “My guess is it’s taken a hit.”

  We watch as it looms closer and limps toward the small ledge we’re hiding on. The hull shudders as the shuttle docks ungracefully. Seconds later, the door slides open with an unnatural screech of metal and a bloodied figure staggers out.

  Velkan takes aim.

  The figure spins, and I gasp in disbelief.

  Sarth!

  One half of her face is puckered with congealed blood and her left eye socket hangs halfway down her cheek. She reels toward a large boulder and slumps against it, sliding to the ground, her chin sagging to her chest. The Zebulux must have taken a direct hit. I frown as I weigh the implications. Crank must have gone down with the ship.

  I rest my hand on Velkan’s arm until he lowers the gun. “She’s unarmed,” I whisper to him.

  We wait for a few minutes, but Sarth doesn’t make any attempt to move. Maybe she’s passed out.

  “What are we going to do?” Buir whispers. “There’s nowhere for our shuttle to land now.”

  “We’ll have to take Sarth’s shuttle and hope it makes it to the stealth fighter,” I say.

  Ghil rubs a hand across his jaw, his forehead creased in a frown.

  “Are you okay with that?” I ask him. “Leaving Sarth stranded, I mean.”

  He gives a curt nod. “We’ve shown her more mercy than she deserves. We could have killed her.”

  I let out a silent breath, relieved he doesn’t suggest we bring her with us. If Sarth gets out of this alive, it will be with the body poachers’ help. After all, she chose to align herself with them, not us.

  While Velkan links to Ayma and relays our plan, I survey the area one more time to make sure there’s no sign of any other body poachers approaching. “If Sarth’s conscious, she might try and persuade us to take her with us,” I say to the others. “We need to do whatever it takes not to let that happen.”

  “She won’t be a problem. She’s too badly injured,” Ghil says. “She won’t last more than a few hours without medical attention.”

  No one responds to his dire prediction. Sarth has done nothing to garner sympathy from any of us, and no one’s inclined to throw in their lot with her again, no matter how wretched her circumstances.

  Taking the mutual silence as a sign that we’re all in favor of abandoning Sarth, I get to my feet. Velkan follows suit, keeping his gun aimed at her as we walk toward the shuttle. She raises her head and blinks in confusion with her remaining eye when she recognizes us. “Help … me!” she rasps, stretching shaking fingers toward us.

  I steel myself to ignore the desperate plea of a dying woman—monster, I remind myself. She doesn’t have the strength to pull herself to her feet, let alone wrestle with us to let her on board. Her normally swarthy skin is a ghastly shade of gray. She’s lost a lot of blood—it’s a miracle she’s still conscious. Ghil walks over to her and says something I can’t catch. I’m fairly certain he’s asking about Crank, but whether Sarth will tell him anything remains to be seen.

  The rest of us dart past her toward the shuttle and throw ourselves through the doorway. Once Ghil joins us, Velkan seals the door behind him and fires up the shuttle. The engine runs rough but it starts the first time.
>
  “Hurry!” I say, my eyes widening in alarm as, unbelievably, Sarth pushes herself up against the boulder into a standing position. She takes one or two unsteady steps toward us, but we’re already lifting off and she’s moving far too slowly to bridge the gap between us. She locks a one-eyed gaze on us as we disappear from sight. I’m filled with a mixture of relief and horror. No one will stumble across her now that the trail is destroyed. She will die alone up there while we take off with her shuttle—her only hope of escape off this mountain. We may not be directly responsible for Sarth’s death, but we’ve signed off on it, and it doesn’t give me a warm and fuzzy feeling. I’d rather watch her die in a fair fight.

  Velkan squeezes my shoulder gently. “Are you okay?”

  I nod. “I just wish we’d never set eyes on Sarth again. I hate that I’m forced to feel sorry for her at the end.”

  “She made the choices that put her in that position,” Velkan replies. “Don’t take on the guilt she brought on herself.”

  Buir gives me a rueful smile. “Velkan’s right. Focus on the lives you saved. None of us would have made it across that bombed-out trail without you.”

  Ghil stares at me from beneath his brows, an unsettling look on his face. “Don’t waste your energy mourning Sarth yet. I’ve seen her come back from the dead before.”

  I shudder at the unwelcome thought of Sarth, her face puckered with scar tissue, reappearing when I least expect it.

  “Heads up! We’re approaching the fighter,” Velkan announces, tinkering with the controls as he nurses the shuttle in for landing.

  We stare transfixed through the viewing window at the welcome sight of the stealth fighter’s interior as the invisible ship yawns open to receive us. Salty tears prickle my eyes. Finally, we can return to Cwelt and save my people languishing under the Maulers’ control, at the mercy of Parthelon’s insidious agenda.

  We disembark and head straight up to the control room. A broad grin spreads across Phin’s face when he sees us. He leaps up and spins me around before embracing the others, his ordinarily reserved demeanor replaced by jubilation at a reunion that was dubious up until the very last minute.