Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 46791 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46791 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
He bends down. “I’ll be sword-sliced. It’s a whimmit.” he laughs. “Master Seke’s information didn’t say those lived here.”
“Is it toxic?” I ask although from his demeanor, I can guess that it’s not.
“Not to Zandians or humans. They’re a kind of rodent. Not the smartest. Look.” He reaches down and touches the thing on its back. “They have no sense of danger.”
It immediately arches upward into his hand and makes a loud rumbling noise. “Stupid. I could kill it or eat it at once.”
He taps it a little harder. It growls at him as if irritated and stops rumbling.
“But you barely eat.” I reach down, too. It sniffs my hand then pushes its nose into my fingers. It rumbles again, louder, but it seems to be a happy sound. “It’s adorable.” The creature pushes closer and puts its paws on my leg.
Khrys sounds disgusted. “They’re a nuisance when we’re on missions. I can’t stand them. Always getting in the way.” He bends down to the whippet. “Shoo! Get out of here.” He gives it a little push.
The creature ignores him. It continues to paw my leg.
“You don’t have them on your planet?”
He shakes his head. “Thank veck, no.”
A strange thought occurs to me. “Can we keep it?” I feel a sudden surge of affection for this little beast, who—out of nowhere, and for no special reason—is being, in its own way, kind.
“No.” His voice is short and holds no room for debate. “Absolutely not. The craft isn’t fitted for wildlife. And we don’t need this—thing—back on Zandia.”
I shriek out a giggle as it licks my hand with a bright purple tongue. “It likes me.”
“It would like a bundle of rocks.” Khrys shakes his head. “Come, Kailani. We need to focus.” He points. “The craft is back that way. Let’s go.”
“Okay, I’m—”
A sick sense of deja vu fills me as the zing of an arrow fills my ears.
“Veck, the locals are back!” Khrys curses. “They waited for us to find the bags. It’s an ambush.”
“They’re approaching from the north.” I assess the area, senses on high alert. My muscles tense in preparation for a fight. I listen and learn the sounds of their feet. My vision clears, and I focus. “At their pace, we have thirty seconds. They’ve not surrounded us yet. We can run for it before they get close enough to aim properly.”
“You can’t make it to the craft fast enough.” His voice is tense. “It’s past your endurance distance. I’ll hold them off while you get a head start, then I’ll catch up.”
“We should fight together.” The idea of running on my own fills me with panic.
“No.” He snaps it. “On my command, you take your sacks and run to the craft.”
He slides a device from his tunic and presses it into my hand without looking, then hands me my laser gun from earlier. “Keep these safe.”
He uses his long-range laser gun to knock out the first approaching local, but dozens more appear over the tree line. “The craft is programmed to recognize my biomarkers and open for me. This is an override you can use to get aboard. I preprogrammed it with your fingerprint earlier, just in case. Get yourself there and wait for me.”
“But…”
“Go. Now.”
He shouts so fiercely that I take off racing, the bags bouncing on my leg, heavy and awkward.
He's right—I can’t run as fast or long as he, especially not with a load. This is the only way we can both make it. But I’m terrified.
I hear him roar a battle cry, but I don’t look back. Soon I’m far enough away that the screams of the natives are muted, and after a while, I hear nothing but odd squeaks from my bag.
And then I’m at the craft.
Kailani
I know I’m in the right place even though I see nothing because the device in my jacket pocket beeps urgently. When I pull it out and touch the smooth indent with my index finger, it glows green. Symbols I don’t understand appear, but I raise the device and point it in front of me.
Like magic, the craft shimmers, just at the edges, showing me the outlines of the curved hull and sleek base. The staircase hovers as if half formed.
I lurch forward and climb, and the door slides open with a pneumatic hiss. I toss myself inside, and when the door closes behind me, I sob with relief.
I’m alive, I’m safe, and I have the flowers. The vecking flowers. I use the curse Khrys says, liking the way it sounds. It’s a powerful word.
“Veck,” I mutter. I’m shaking. I drop into a seat on the craft, allowing myself to catch my breath then get up.
I suck down a nutrition tube and wrap myself in the silver blanket to warm up, standing at the port hole to peer out. Where is Khrys? He’s nowhere in sight. To my horror, the sky darkens.