No. No. No.
The doctor yelled at me but I could no longer hear her. The floor vibrated beneath my feet. A bright blue light erupted from previously unseen lines. The brightness made me squint in pain as it formed a strange grid pattern on the transport pad. I tried to move off the pad, but I was trapped by the energy rising to choke me in a cloud of power and I could not breathe. The guard I’d barely met fell to his knees and one Drover slit his throat as another plunged a dagger into his side. I tried to reach out to them, to scream, but I couldn’t do anything. I could only watch and do nothing.
Behind the doctor, the third Drover raced to her and plunged a dagger into her back. She screamed, I saw her mouth open as she sank to her knees, but I heard nothing now, nothing but the hum of the transport. One Drover plunged his knife into our guard’s chest, over and over as I stood, frozen, watching with growing horror as the other attacker rushed toward me.
He lunged through the bright blue light, his gnarled and calloused hand grasping at me.
His fist tightened in my dress, tugging me mercilessly, relentlessly forward. I braced my feet and struck his arm with the dagger I still held. The gold blade struck his arm. Blood splattered on my dress, but he did not release me. Terrified, I pulled away from him with every ounce of strength I possessed. I felt the seam of my dress pop along my back as the dress ripped in two. The Drover fell back with a yell when the garment fell away from me, the seam in back exploding with a tearing sound that rattled my teeth.
Naked but for my sandals and the chains hanging from my breasts, I screamed at him, enraged that he’d killed the doctor, stabbed her in the back. Cold blooded. They’d also taken my mate from me. This was to be my fate on this stupid planet. The man I’d just begun to love, who had officially claimed me, was dead?
The hum surrounding me changed to a roar so loud I feared my skull would explode. I could not even scream as everything went black.
Chapter Eight
Roark
The chains around my wrists had worn through flesh to bone and a fever raged in my blood. My restraints were affixed to a heavy wooden post that ran the length of th
e Drovers’ tent. I’d been beaten and starved, tortured for four long days, and still the Drovers had not revealed the reason for their attack, nor what they wanted from me.
I was surprised I still lived. The Drovers were not known for taking prisoners. Nor for torture. They preferred to strike and run. To kill indiscriminately, leaving no survivors. Ransom, perhaps? I heard of no other prisoners, saw none. I had to assume I’d been the only one caught. But why? Why was I still alive?
Something had changed, something fundamental to the future of my people. If the Drovers were employing new tactics, I needed to figure out why. I couldn’t do it strung up like meat in this tent. I remembered searching for my parents, learning that they had transported as I’d wished. They were safe at home in Xalia.
Trying to clear the sand from my dry eyes, I blinked slowly, my entire body alive with pain.
And through it all, my only thoughts were of Natalie. My Natalie. My mate.
She had escaped their clutches. Of this I was certain. For if they had her, they would have used her against me, brought her here and tortured her before my eyes. They would have used her to break me. And, gods help me, they would have succeeded. I’d never tasted such heaven as I had in her arms. I would do anything to protect her, anything at all.
I had to get away, to find her. She was alone on Trion. She knew no one. Fark, she’d only been on the planet for a few days. The distance between us was more painful than the punishment the Drovers were inflicting on my body. She was saving me by just being in my thoughts. She was my motivation, my drive to remain alive. I promised her I wouldn’t leave her alone, that I’d protect her, and I was failing her with every minute that passed, every beat of my heart.
I couldn’t remain like this, chained. I had to escape. As I fumed, our suns set and the world became dark. There were no lights in the tent, the faint light of dusk barely penetrating the thick walls of the tent. My eyes adjusted to the darkness and I looked up as the tent flapped opened and a single Drover entered. They had arrived in groups the first day, perhaps concerned I would fight them. Now, they were confident, cocky that they’d tamped my spirit and were slowly crushing my body.
They were wrong. I was invigorated by their laziness. My weakened muscles now pumped with adrenaline. My hands clenched into fists in readiness.
The Drover never met my eye, only held his ion blaster in one hand and used a key to undo the chain from my wrist restraints. His stench filled my nostrils, acrid and bitter. Sweat and bitter oils made my nose burn. These bastards were barely above animals, would work for anyone who had coin. I wouldn’t fight him here, not in the tent. I had to see how many others there were. I knew the basic layout of their compound from the other times they took me to a different tent to beat me. The Drovers who held me were not part of a large group, only a few tents made up the nomadic camp.
A push at my shoulder blades had me stumbling out into the fresh air. I looked about, although I could only see as far as the glow lanterns that hung from wooden stakes. All was quiet except for the snuffling sounds of their nox, the large animals they used as transport. The giant beasts were penned somewhere nearby. I didn’t like the quiet as it was deceiving. The Drovers weren’t ones to speak or socialize unnecessarily, and while there were no sounds coming from the various tents, I knew more enemies lurked than the one nudging me along.
The sand was still warm beneath my bare feet. I took a step, then another, ensuring no one was about, maintaining awareness of my surroundings. I could fight this one Drover easily enough, I just had to do it quietly.
Before we made it around the tent, I spun about, my elbow bumping into his wrist, shifting the ion pistol away from me. Stepping in close, his arm was along my hip, blocking the pistol. If he fired, it would be heard across the compound. I had to move quickly. Lightning fast, I lifted my arms over his head, the restraints hooked behind his robed neck. Because he was small, as all Drovers were, I loomed over him. Taking my right hand, I circled down and under my left to wrap the restraints about his neck. Punching upward toward the black sky, I broke his trachea, silencing any call he had for help. I winced at the pain in my wrenched shoulder, but pushed through. With both hands on the side of his head, I grabbed hold and twisted back, breaking his neck.
I had to unwind my arms to allow him to fall to the sand. Dead. Squatting down, I grabbed his ion pistol and scanned the area. My right knee screamed in protest. I breathed through my mouth, trying to keep as quiet as possible through the sharp stab of pain. Still no one.
A quick search of his body and I had the keys to my restraints. As quickly as I could, I unlocked my wrists and tossed the hated leather and buckles away from me, out into the desert to be swallowed by the ever-moving sand.
Keeping away from the lantern light, I followed the occasional sound of the nox and knew they were my means for escape. I found the temporary pen easily, went to the farthest animal and found the bucket on the ground filled with water. I didn’t care that a nox had drunk from it first. I’d barely been given any water during my captivity. Dropping to my good knee, I scooped the water into my palm, gulped it down. Only when I’d had my fill did I rise and grab the animal’s lead. Lifting the rope that formed the edge of the pen, I led the nox away. When I was far enough from the camp that a grumble or protest from the beast would not alert my enemies, I struggled up onto the beast’s back.
Slumping forward, I breathed through the pain and assessed my injuries. A bad knee, perhaps a torn tendon. A broken finger. Concussion. Multiple broken ribs. Lacerations on my thighs from their knives and on my back from the lash. And I was burning with fever, from Drover poison or infection, I could not say. Colors pulsed and danced before my eyes against the blackness of the desert night as the beast lurched between my legs. I dug my heels into the animal’s hairy flanks and fought to remain conscious as the gentle giant plodded into the desert.
I was definitely in need of food and dehydrated. I needed to get to Outpost Two and the transport station before I passed out, fell to the sand and the nox wandered off. It was the only way back home, to help. To find Natalie.
***
Natalie, Earth, November