“That will not occur.”
“How can you know for certain?”
“Rephrase, please.”
“Ah, sh—never mind. How will prisoners receive food?” The doors had open then, didn’t they?
“Sustenance will be provided for you at regular intervals. Kindly note the panel in the upper third of your door.”
Barely visible, she had noticed the panel before, but its use had not occurred to her. She stood up slowly, knees not quite steady, and walked to the door. Running her fingers along the places where the larger segments met, she could think of nothing in the cell to wedge between to force them open if she had to. In a sympathetic revelation despite her anger at the man, she understood why Skelly had opted to put himself to sleep. Not out of fear of retaliation, but because he was locked inside the cell with no idea of when he might be let out again.
* * *
Hallie knew the exact instant the power switched over to auxiliary. The sounds outside the facility had become horrendous and constant for so long she figured it had to be close to morning by then, and the flickering of the lumi-discs in her cell had become commonplace. Suddenly they flashed, dimmed out, and came back on steady and strong. The storm continued full strength, but the discs’ illumination did not abate. Zebulon was on supplemental power.
Lying on her back on the berth, Hallie stared hard at the discs. She told herself if back-up power failed, they would all be released long before fresh air became a problem. She told herself that repeatedly. It didn’t help. She jumped from the berth and began to pace in quick, tight circles around the decreasing dimensions of the cell. She felt hot and cold in turns, her throat tight.
Stop it. The cell is the same size it’s been. Nothing is changing. They’ve had storms like this before or there wouldn’t be required lock-down to deal with it. Everything will be fine.
Pausing at a corner, she turned her back to the wall, sliding down to the floor. “Everything will be fine.” She drew her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. “Everything will be fine.”
Tipping her head back against the wall, Hallie closed her eyes. She focused on keeping them closed, on relaxing her body, on dispersing her rising panic. “Everything...will...be...fine,” she said, drawing and releasing a breath with each word. Remember who you are. Remember from whence you come. If your family could see you now, it would shame them. Fear is not a worthy adversary.
A sound like no other boomed through the cell, vibrating the floor so that her teeth rattled. She squeezed her eyes shut and opened them again.
To total darkness.
Uttering a very vocal prayer, Hallie stumbled to her feet. She beat on the door with her fists, calling out, before slowly sinking to her knees. Any moment now the power would be restored or the doors would be opened manually. One of those blasted robots would be there. Or Burke would come.
But how could he? They were all trapped in their cells.
She heard noises through the door quite different from those of the storm, which seemed over. Maybe the cybernetic units were already in motion in the corridors. A draft of air wafted through the narrow seams, fresh and cool. She kept her face to it, breathing deep.
Eventually a light scraping on metal alerted her to activity on the opposite side of the door. The movements seemed stealthy for a cybernon. Hallie put her lips to the seam. “Who is that?”
For a heartbeat, no one answered, and then Burke’s voice came through. “It’s me, sweetheart.”
Hallie’s mouth tugged up into a warm smile of amusement. Sweetheart. No one had called her that since…well, she couldn’t remember. Since childhood, she supposed.
“Stand back.”
Hallie grabbed the chair to wedge in the doorway once it opened. Following several attempts, the sections parted enough for Hallie to see a bit of steely illumination. She jammed the chair leg in and set her weight against it, helping Burke to force the door wide enough to admit entry. Clambering over the chair, Burke slipped an arm across her back, tugging her close against his chest for a fleeting embrace of reassurance.
“All right?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“Good. Are you dressed? It’s difficult to see.”
“I am.”
“Where’s your carrysack? Put an extra coverall in there and a minimal amount of undergarments. Leave the rest. You’ll need the room.”
Hallie, who had bent to fasten her boots, paused with the clips in her fingers. “What’s happened?”
His hand groped in the darkness and settled on the back of her neck as he crouched down next to her. “There’s been damage. I’ll show you. We have a window, I think, before facility recovery. I didn’t want to bring you into danger. I didn’t want to be responsible for that.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I was going to break my promise to you, for your own good. But I can’t leave you. If you don’t want to go, that will be your choice. But I can’t just leave you here. It’s time, Hallie. The walls are ruptured. If you’re ready, it’s time to go.”
V.
TWILIGHT’S DARK GLEAMING
“What about the others?”
Burke helped Hallie through the gap, grasping her carrysack in one hand, her arm in the other. She stopped up against him, turning her head in the direction of the common room. Her warm body was solid against his own, and then she stepped away.
“What about them?” he asked.
“Shouldn’t they at least be given the opportunity for freedom?”
Hooking his hand behind her elbow, Burke started slowly down the hall, guiding Hallie through the dimness. “This is a critical risk. What we’re proposing to do is very dangerous.”
“I understand that.”
Do you? In the next instant, he realized she did.
“We could die. I know that. Maybe even horribly. But since I don’t plan on staying behind, all I can do is hope that doesn’t happen, take what care I can to assure that doesn’t happen. To you or to me. What I’m saying, though, is that we should let the others make their own choice. They may very well choose this life over loss of it out there.”
He paused with a nod at her indistinct countenance, moving his hand so that her carrysack swung against his leg. She was, of course, assuming the innocence of the others and that they had a right to freedom. “Very well,” he said, resigned. “We need to get them out of their cells in any case. I wouldn’t leave them trapped in there. But we’ll have to hurry. Calypso’s is right here, but Emil is in the men’s quarters, which received more damage.”
“And Skelly?” she asked.
“Shane goes nowhere. He’s not in his cell, anyway. I don’t know where he is. He was taken away by a pair of cybernons after my report.”
She shuddered. Burke wondered if it was revulsion at reminder of Shane’s earlier actions, or in sympathetic horror at his being taken away to an unknown location by inhuman captors. That she might summon any compassion at all for the man was beyond his understanding, especially when he knew despite her assertion to the contrary, Shane had hurt her. A portion of her natural grace had been diminished, as if movement caused her pain.
His jaw tightened and he lifted a palm to cup the side of her head. Fine hairs liberated from her braid blew across his knuckles. She made a noise low in her throat, a word not fully voiced, then moved out from under his hand and toward Calypso’s door.
With a minimal expenditure of time they had Calypso’s door open. Hallie urged the woman to be silent and follow. Emil was freed next, with considerably more effort. The man had difficulty pulling himself through the obstructed opening. A large section of the ceiling had wedged into the corridor directly in front of Emil’s cell.
“Keep an eye for cybers. I haven’t seen any,” Burke warned them all, “but that doesn’t mean they’re not around.”
Making their way through the darkened corridors to the common room, Burke noted no one commented on their urgent stealth or quest
ioned why he was directing them there. They all probably suffered a bit from shock and accepted his lead to see what came next. As they turned into the short hall to the common room, Emil lifted his head and sniffed.
“What that’s smell?”
“Don’t recognize it, Emil?” said Burke, over his shoulder. “Storm’s over. That’s fresh, rain-washed arboreal air.”
“That’s what?”
“Ever seen a forest, Emil?”
“No.”
“Even if you had, I’d wager it was nothing like this.”
Burke put his arm across Hallie’s shoulder, urging her forward. The common room lay in shambles, the ceiling almost fully collapsed, the floor broken away beneath the shattered windows. Lying across the room a hulking black shadow had crushed everything beneath it, extending from the blackness outside and continuing on into the ceiling above. The shadow’s diameter was nearly three times Burke’s height. Hallie reached out and touched the grayed, fissured surface.
“That’s a tree,” she whispered in awe.
“That it is. Many times larger than any I’ve ever seen. I’m not even sure it’s one of the biggest out there.”
Calypso and Emil had come up behind. He smelled the fear on them.
“That’s why we couldn’t tell what we were looking at outside,” Burke went on in his hushed explanation. “Not knowing what to expect, our minds couldn’t encompass the whole view. In addition, the canopy is so immense the shadow it creates is virtually impenetrable.”
Emil, visibly shaking, scowled at his words. “Is this why you brought us here? For a lesson on the flora of Oren?”
Burke’s shoulders tensed. This wasn’t going to be easy.
“Not at all. Hallie wanted you all to know what you would be up against. She wanted you all to have a choice.”
“A choice about what?” Calypso asked. Burke glanced at the tiny woman. Her eyes were wide, the color of yellow flame. Hallie held her hand, squeezing it hard. Before he could answer, Emil spoke again.
“Where’s Skelly?”
Burke slowly released the air from his lungs. “I don’t know.”
“What do you mean, you don’t know?”
“He tried to kill me tonight, or something damned close to it. I’m not certain what he did to Hallie, because she’s not saying. He’s not here, Emil. I reported the incident and he was taken away.”
Calypso stepped close to Hallie, her eyes sparking in the gloom. “He harm you, that Skelly?”
Burke’s gaze settled firmly on Hallie, awaiting her answer. She met his eyes over Calypso’s head.
“I’m fine,” she said.
She didn’t want him to know what had passed between her and the lunatic Lucasian. Perhaps she figured he had enough scores to settle. That reasoning, of course, presumed she understood his inclination to settle scores on her behalf as well as his own.
“Is he dead?” Emil asked.
“Dead?” Startled, Hallie spun toward Emil on the heel of her boot. “Why would you think that?”
Burke frowned. This was taking too long. “Enough. Look, Emil, I don’t know his condition. He was alive when he was remanded. Whether he was taken to an area that suffered more damage than this one, I couldn’t tell you. And I’m not going to take the time to find out. Shane is no longer my concern. Hallie and I are leaving. She felt you should have the same opportunity for escape, if you chose it, and understand the dangers involved.”
Emil pointed at the mammoth bole. “Are you proposing to climb down that thing?”
“Yes,” Burke answered. “Exactly that.”
A momentary silence followed his statement, from all of them.
“And go where?”
Burke exhaled. There had been no time for completing any sort of plan. “I don’t know. Anywhere out of here, for the time being. This is our only opportunity. I have no idea what’s out there, but I can pretty much guarantee it’ll be a harrowing experience and one hell of a risk. At some point I figure a cargo ship has to fly in. If we make it to that goal, we’ll be lucky.”
“A cargo ship? You going to stow away, or conduct a little hijacking? Can you pilot interspace?”
“I have.”
“And in the meantime? Food? Shelter? Won’t you be hunted down?”
Burke noted the reference was still only to him and Hallie. And he was growing impatient. “The likelihood of the latter increases the longer we stand here. As for food, we’ll grab what we can get out of the meal-prep unit and ration it. There may or may not be anything edible to be found. I’ll assume there’s fresh water, as there’s growth, but I may be wrong. It could be that the roots have to go deep in order to reach it. At this point, there may be some water lying at ground level, due to the storm. We’ll find out. And that’s it. Either one of you wants to join us, prepare quickly.”
Neither Emil nor Calypso said a word, the dancer still clinging to Hallie’s hand. Hallie’s head turned suddenly. He followed the direction of her gaze. One of the iridescent creatures flapped in through the broken window to land on the wall, wings undulating gracefully. Calypso shrieked, a sound quickly muffled by the application of Hallie’s hand on her mouth.
“Quiet, Calypso. Please.”
Calypso nodded against her fingers. Hallie released her. For all the concern Hallie displayed, she might not have felt any fear at all. Burke knew better. The trembling in her knees was evident to his discerning eye. Stepping away from the tree trunk, Burke pulled Hallie with him, away from the other two.
“That’s it. Make up your minds. We’ve got supplies to gather. If you’re coming, meet us right here. If you’re not coming, I’d suggest you find somewhere safe to hide, perhaps the library or the exercise area. You want somewhere the oxygen supply is greater than in your cells, as you might be there a little while yet.”
Emil’s heavy brows lowered in a frown. “Why should we hide?”
“Because,” Burke answered, nodding toward the gentle movements of the creature on the wall, “that little beastie right there is the least of your worries. With the wall breached, there’s no telling what might get in.”
* * *
No telling what might get in. Hallie lifted her chin to stare through the shattered wall. No telling what lurked outside, either. Twice Burke had asked if she was sure she wanted to go with him. She hadn’t changed her mind, although the ice of dread coursed with the flow of blood through her flesh. It would have been very easy to stay behind, to hope Burke found his way to safety, that he would be able to muster some sort of assistance for her, and would get his daughter out of Arad’s hands. Easy and cowardly. She had never been one to let another assume risk on her behalf, for anything. Although Burke Conlan might be better equipped to contend with whatever they would face once they left the comparative refuge of the prison, he needed someone to watch his back.
She told herself her actions were a matter of honor. She knew it was more.
Burke swore softly, wrestling with her carrysack on the floor. Her lips curved in a smile. As long as he was swearing, it would be all right.
Assisting him, she tied the last of the knots in the makeshift sling he had fashioned in order for her to carry her supplies on her back, leaving her arms free for maneuvering. He’d already prepared his own pack, which sat on the floor waiting to be donned. Emil and Calypso had not yet returned.
“Is this too heavy for you?” Burke asked. “I might fit a bit more in my own.”
Hallie shook her head, not bothering to check the weight. He had been careful in the packing. Whatever the burden, she would manage.
“Stand up, then.” She did so, pushing her arms through the openings in the webbing of torn sheets as he settled the carrysack into position along her spine, distributing it evenly against the upper curve of her buttocks. Coming around to the front, he secured the knots there, as well. He moved confidently, hands strong where they brushed against her. They lingered a moment on her waist.
“Hallie.”
&n
bsp; She raised her eyes from his chest to his chin and the long, ropy scar running along his jawbone to its termination. His eyes looked nearly black, the pupils distended. A fierce expression marked them.
“Don’t you die out there,” he said. “I’d never forgive myself.”
“Ditto,” she whispered.
“I mean it.”
“So do I.”
He gave her a little shake, fingers curved into the folds of her uniform. “Hallie, I want another promise, another pact between us.”
She bit her lip.
“If anything happens out there that looks to be overwhelmingly against us, I want you to run like hell and leave me to face it.”
“What? No!”
“We can’t both die. There would be no point.”
“Then leave me to face whatever it might be, damn you. You’ve the better chance for survival to the end.”
At her statement, misgiving flickered in his eyes. “Promise me,” he said.
“I can’t do that.”
“Promise me, or I leave you here.”
“If you do that, I’ll follow,” she stated quietly.
His chest rose and fell. Frustration trembled in his hands. “You made me swear that I wouldn’t leave you behind, and I am keeping my promise, against my better judgment. You’re going to have to do the same.”
Tears pricked her eyes. She wanted to deny him. She knew for his sake she could not. “I promise.”
I promise not to leave you behind, she vowed silently, echoing his earlier oath to her. I promise to lay down my life to keep yours safe. I promise to take you home, to your family, to get your daughter out of Arad’s hands and then I promise to—
Before she could think of anything further to promise he yanked her close, lowering his mouth onto her own. Unlike the last time, the kiss to seal their bargain was neither fevered nor urgent but a long, slow, graceful endeavor that caused the tears to slide free of her lashes and into her hair above her ears. His breath was warm, his hands were warm, his whole body was hard and heated and molded against hers and then he stepped away.
Emerald Twilight: Bundled Edition Page 10
