Kristi Helvig - Burn Out

It came out of nowhere—something sharp in my side that hurt like hell. I felt blood running down the inside of my suit. Then everything went black.

MY FATHER SPOKE TO ME TENDERLY THE NIGHT BEFORE HIS murder. Part of him must have suspected his Consulate visit was a one-way trip. He’d gone over all the safety procedures because he said this business trip might be longer than usual. I hadn’t guessed then just how long my alone time would be. For the first time, he hadn’t had me practice with the guns after dinner. He said he hoped I’d never need to touch them again. Then he kissed me good night, which he hadn’t done since the night he found my mother and sister dead.

The voice filtering through my mind at the moment was not tender. It sounded grating and harsh.

“Could someone please explain why we’re helping her? She only came so she could take part of the water anyway, so why are we giving a crap?”

“You’re almost as much of a charmer as Tora.”

I didn’t need to open my eyes to picture that beaklike nose. I tried opening them anyway, and squinted in the intense light of the room. Markus stood near Britta, watching me with amusement. I tried to sit up but fell back in pain.

Markus chuckled. “Somebody took a hard hit.”

I gritted my teeth. “From what?” I twisted around as if the mysterious cause of my injury would be found somewhere in the room. Dizziness overtook me and everything blurred. It took a minute for my vision to clear.

James sat in a chair behind me. His head leaned back against the wall like he was too tired to hold it upright. His eyes drooped in apparent fatigue. “A rock. Two of your ribs are fractured.”

I touched my left side under the white medical gown, and could feel bandages covering the area. Medical gown? Where the hell are my clothes?

“How did I get in this?” I asked, picking up the hem of the gown.

“I sure as hell didn’t help you,” said Britta. She flung her straight hair over her shoulder. “I’d better go tell our leader that the princess is awake.” Britta stormed to the door, then turned to Markus and raised an eyebrow at him. “Coming?”

I glared at Markus. He smirked. “Don’t look at me. Ask the medic there.” He gestured at James, then followed after Britta down the hall.

Blood flooded my cheeks. Aside from my panties, the only things under this flimsy excuse of a gown were bandages. It took everything I had to turn and face him again and, even then, I couldn’t meet his eyes. “You put me in this gown?”

When he responded with silence, I was forced to look up. I swallowed, trying to sound nonchalant. “Aren’t you a little young to be the ship’s medic?”

“It’s what I trained to do, before some other stuff happened.”

I should have trained to be a dentist, because getting more than a sentence out of him at a time was like pulling teeth. “And?”

At least he had the decency to look embarrassed. “I’m sorry. I needed to check your ribs and clean up the wound before I taped it.”

“Please tell me Markus wasn’t in here.” I knew Markus best, yet he was the last person I would want to see me naked.

“No. No one was. I tried to get Britta to help …”

I put up my hand to stop him. “No explanation needed there.” I eased off the metal bed, but the dizziness returned and I stumbled.

“Whoa.” James rushed to my side, easing his arm around my waist. “Easy there.” He guided me back onto the bed into a sitting position.

My head pounded and my vision went out of whack.

I tried hard to bring James into focus. “What’s wrong with me?”

His arm stayed around me, keeping me steady. “Do you mean medically—or otherwise?”

I heard the smile in his voice and relaxed. “You’re lucky I can’t see you well, or I’d smack you.”

His tone grew serious. “Mild concussion. You flew out of my grasp when the rock hit you, and you hit your head pretty hard on a step of the ship. You should be fine in a few days though. The ribs will take longer to heal.” He cleared his throat and turned me to face him. “I’m sorry I couldn’t hold on.”

Though still dizzy and nauseous, the concern and remorse on his face were unmistakable. I had a strange urge to reach out and touch the blond stubble on his chin. Though I still didn’t trust him, he had saved me when he could have let me die. “I wouldn’t have made it at all if it wasn’t for you. Thank you.”

We stared at each other until I heard footsteps in the hallway.

“See? She’s just fine. I don’t see what all the fuss was about,” Britta said, hand on her hip.

I pulled my eyes away from James. I couldn’t afford to get attached to anyone anyway. After all I’d lost, I’d learned it was better not to care.

Markus touched Britta’s arm and her stance softened a little. She flashed Markus a tiny smile. They’d apparently done some serious bonding during their night together. I shook my head—that was a visual I didn’t need right now.

“What do you say, James?” asked Kale.

“Sir, her ribs will take time to heal and her head will be hurting for a bit, but I think she’ll be fine. Her suit repaired itself adequately.”

“Nice work,” said Kale. “Tora, we’ll leave you here to rest while we gather up some supplies. We can’t go back until the storm ends.”

It must still be night . I couldn’t hear any bombs going off in the distance, just the unmistakable winds. I noted a container of water by my bed, with a Caelia Pure label on it. Real water from another planet, not the recycled piss I’d been drinking forever. James nodded at me and I chugged the whole thing in three gulps. This must be what heaven tastes like. I couldn’t believe they had bottles and bottles of the stuff. We could drink water whenever we were thirsty.

“Why can’t we just take off and run for it?” Britta asked. “It’ll be light in less than an hour and they’ll be back.”

“No,” said Kale.

He didn’t say anything else. He didn’t need to. I knew he wouldn’t leave without the guns. They were his only bargaining chip. But we did need to get back to the bunker before daylight or the Consulate would be waiting for us.

“We need to go,” I said, realizing how improbable it sounded. Between my concussion and cracked ribs, I’d never move fast enough to make it home between the storms.

“Astute observation there, my dear,” said Markus. “Wanna tell us how we can do that?”

“Yeah,” answered James. Every head in the room turned to him. One of the perks of not saying much was that everyone paid attention when he did. “We fly there.”

“Huh?” asked Britta. “You mean like fly a hundred feet?”

Kale looked at Britta like she wasn’t the brightest bulb in the bunch. “More like eighteen hundred feet.” He turned to James. “Brilliant plan.” Which it was. I wondered why James wasn’t in charge of this ragtag group.

“The Consulate could destroy the ship once it’s parked there,” James noted.

Kale stroked his chin. “Maybe, but I think it’d be more useful to them whole—or for parts. They’d be crazy not to want a second space drive. We’ll kill them before that happens.”

A tiny voice nagged in my head saying that maybe James wasn’t just trying to spare me from the night storms. Maybe it was part tactical reasoning. Kale wanted the guns and like he’d said earlier, it wasn’t practical to transfer the guns when the ship was so far from the shelter. It would certainly be easier if his ship was right next door.

We didn’t have much time before sunrise. Once the latest night storm subsided, we’d fly to the shelter, keeping close to the ground. It would only take a few minutes and under the cover of dark, there was a chance we could avoid detection by the Consulate ship.