Kristi Helvig: Burn Out

He scoffed. “You mean before or after your little bomb destroyed two of our ships? We had to stop chasing Commander Stark to come back and retrieve you. He got away and many of our men’s lives were lost thanks to you.”

Kale’s last name was Stark? Though I wasn’t happy he got away, it meant Alec, Markus, and Lucy were safe—for now at least. I attempted to sneer at the wire-rimmed man, but choked on my water. It dribbled down my chin. “You know that eyeglasses went out of style like two hundred years ago, right?”

One of the women in the room, dressed in a shiny green coat, smiled. “He thinks it lends an air of authority.” She shut up after Mr. Wire-Rims shot her a nasty look. I wondered what one had to do to earn a shiny coat. I’d like mine in lavender.

Wait. Clothing reminded me of my satchel. I swiveled to check around me. “Where’s my bag?”

The man pushed his glasses up higher on his nose. Did no one else realize how crazy it was to wear glasses as an accessory? “Your bag is fine … it was on your body when you triggered the bomb. Now, about you. We found you after receiving the distress call on the com system,” he said smoothly.

“What distress call?” I asked, genuinely confused.

The man came closer. I felt his touch even though he wasn’t near enough to reach, and shivered. “The young man was worried that Tora Reynolds—only survivor of the great Dr. Micah Reynolds—was going to be ambushed.”

Young man? Had Markus found a way to contact the Consulate? If not, who the hell were these people?

“I’m sorry. I’ve been rude,” the man said, peering over the glasses now. I had a strange urge to rip them off his face and smash them. “I’m Dr. Sorokin.” He extended his hand to me. I reluctantly shook it, his hand cold and clammy against mine. I took it back, rubbing it against my gown.

“You were lucky. The shot only hit your shoulder.” His smile stretched awkwardly across his face.

“Huh? Only one shot?” I distinctly recalled there being two guns, one of which was B.K. One shot from B.K. would have blown me apart. Maybe I was dead and hell was a place with people in eyeglasses and shiny coats.

“Yes, just the one,” he said, eyeing me strangely. “We certainly wouldn’t know otherwise, being that your bomb blew everything to bits.”

I sat up again. That didn’t make any sense. James said himself that he was a perfect shot. Missing any vital organs was one thing. Missing me entirely using one of the deadliest weapons in existence was highly unlikely. All I knew was that if I had it to do all over again, I would have killed them all the second I had the chance. I’d never let myself be vulnerable again.

“Ms. Reynolds, you know that you’re quite famous due to your father. You got lucky—we were already on the way to see what the holdup was regarding a business matter. Your way of thanking us was not very hospitable.” His eyes narrowed at me. “The only reason we didn’t kill you for your treason is that you are of some value to the Consulate due to your … weapons abilities. The caller said that you’d be able to take us to your father’s guns.” He touched the sleep pad, towering over me with his pasty self. “We should reach Caelia by nightfall.”

Of course. I was on a Consulate ship—one of the three must have been far enough away from T.O. to avoid destruction. It explained why I dreamed I was flying. Somehow he thought I knew where the guns were, and he didn’t know there was someone else who could fire them.

“How long have I been asleep?”

He frowned. “Two days. So you do know where Kale was taking the guns?”

“Yes,” I said. I’d play along until I had a freaking clue what exactly was going on. I shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. “Generally speaking, that is. Kale took the map with him, so we need to find him first. Maybe I could do it without the map. Let me think. Kale said he was going to the moon of the planet five light-years away from the western side of Caelia, no, maybe it was the fifth moon of the planet three light-years, no, maybe it was a planet, not a moon—”

“Enough!” He slammed his hand against the wall, then grabbed a com device and barked orders to someone about needing more meds for my “attitude.” He turned to me and smiled, his teeth shining like razors beneath thin lips. “Rest a little and then we’ll talk more about where to find Callie.”

“Excuse me?” Goose bumps rippled down my arms.

“Callie. The caller told us just today that you knew where to find Callie City.” His eyes searched my face, as if the map was etched across it with an X to mark where the guns were. I’d spit at him if I had the energy to lift my head off the pillow. His voice was a low growl. “A few of the outlying moons and planets have had rogue cities established by those who don’t appreciate the wisdom of the Consulate. I’m sure your city can be found among them.”

“Sure … Callie City. Yep, that’s where they are.” I couldn’t decide whether he or Kale was the bigger asshole. My eyelids threatened to shut any second, then flung open. “Today? How did you talk to him today?”

The jerk smirked at his fellow Consulate members as he addressed me. “You haven’t even asked about your companion—the one who saved you. It was a miracle he survived that explosion himself. He’s sustained some kind of trauma though—he wouldn’t speak after telling us about Callie City. When you’re up to it, we’d like you to visit him. He’s down the hall.”

I closed my eyes, trying to ignore the bodies bustling about in the room. James was on board the ship. A woman lifted my arm, murmuring something about meds, then injected something in my arm. Lazy warmth flowed through my veins, and fatigue enveloped me. I quickly understood how you could get addicted to stuff like this.

My brain’s processing ability grew limited as the pull of sleep intensified. So James had called the Consulate to rescue me. He’d called them before he even shot me, meaning he’d planned it all along. Did that mean he was working with the Consulate? It was hard to wrap my head around the fact that he’d shot me, yet had also saved me. I had so many questions for him, if I didn’t kill him first.

Eventually I knew I’d have to come up with answers about the guns for the shiny, bespectacled man. However, my father always told me to look at the bright side, and at least I’d accomplished my goal of getting the hell off of Earth. I had no idea where my father’s guns were, but I intended to find out as soon as the meds wore off.

My tenuous grip on consciousness slipped, and I drifted back into the dream realm. No matter. I’d take their drugs. I’d sleep for now. But I would wake up again. And I’d grow stronger. I’d make them sorry they ever saved my ass from that ship. I’d make them pay for my mom, my dad, and especially, Callie. I’d be worse than any burner they’d ever seen.

After checking my vital signs, I heard the last of the shiny coats leave the room. At last, I was by myself.

But I wasn’t alone.

THEY SAY IT TAKES A VILLAGE TO RAISE A CHILD, AND I’D LIKE to thank the small village of people who helped me to shape this book into its final version. First, I have to thank my fabulous critique partners who saw something special in the mess that was the earliest draft of this book: Lacey J. Edwards, Valerie Kemp, Jeanne Ryan, Niki Schoenfeldt, Kelly Dyksterhouse, Joanne Zakula, and Mary Louise Sanchez. I’d also like to give a shout-out to the Department of Physics and Astronomy at the University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill, especially Dr. Gerald Cecil, for help with all things astrophysics. As I took great liberties with the information given to me, all errors of science are entirely mine.