Sunset in Silvana (Da'ark Nocturne Book 1) (10 page)

“I heard something move,” Martje said.  “Quiet!”

“Can you see anything?”

Bartes held his breath.

“No,” she replied after a couple of seconds.  “It must have been a squirrel or something.”  She gave an exasperated sigh.  “Dammit,” she added.  “They must be a long way away by now – we’ll never catch them.  Maybe they’ll get lost in the forest and die of exposure – we can only hope.  Anyway, we’d better get out of here before any rescuers arrive.  Let’s round up the others.”

Tanya and Bartes lay prone and silent as they moved away.  Their voices receded, and after what seemed like an eternity, all was quiet.  :
Do you think they’ve gone?
: Tanya sent after some moments.

Bartes reached out with his mind.  No human thoughts within range...  “I think so,” he whispered.  “How did you manage to keep them from seeing us?”

“I’m not really sure.”  She sounded mystified.  “I just realised I could make them see what I wanted them to.  It’s a good thing none of them were psionic, or they might not have been fooled.  Doing it for so long took a lot out of me, though.  I feel exhausted.  Can we call for help?”

Bartes pressed the activation button on his communicator, but got only static.  “We appear to be out of radio range.”

“Those things weren’t meant to be used out here in the wilds.  The helicopter crew must have got off a mayday, but even if they didn’t, we’ll soon be missed.  Major Valentine’s people are bound to come looking for us, and that wreck should be pretty visible.”

“I hope they find us soon.  It’s getting dark.”

“And cold.”  Tanya shivered, then gave a sharp cry of pain.  “I think this splinter is pressing on a nerve.  Every time I move, I get a jolt down my left leg.”

Bartes looked over at her, and could see the bloodstain on the back of her dress, surrounding the piece of wood that protruded from it.  “Is there anything I can do?  Could I remove the splinter?”

“No!  No offence, Bartes, but it seems to be touching a major nerve, and you could do more harm than good – and anyway, you might leave some shards behind.  But the external wound does need to be cleaned and dressed – and so do our hands.  Do you think you could get my medical kit from the helicopter?”

“I’ll do my best.”

He made his way cautiously back to the wrecked vehicle, mindful that their assailants might yet be around, but the area was deserted.  He confirmed his suspicion that he and Tanya were the only ones left alive, and located her medkit.  Luckily it had been strapped down, and seemed little worse for the impact of the crash.  He carried it back to where she lay, along with some emergency gear and supplies he found in the helicopter’s lockers.

Once he’d returned, he took an energy bar from one of the ration packs he’d found, half stripped it and put it into Tanya’s uninjured hand.  Mumbling her thanks, she devoured the bar and gave a sigh.  “Is there any more?” she asked, and he passed her another.  As she consumed it in a more leisurely fashion, she said, “Look, I’m getting pain if I move, and it’d be dangerous to try and treat myself blind like this, anyway.  You’ll have to do it for me.”

“What should I do?”

“Cut away the cloth for a few inches all the way around the splinter.”  She sighed.  “It’s a pity – I rather like this dress.”

“It’s not really suitable for the snow.”

“It’s better than n-nothing.”

“Try not to shiver while I’m working on your back – it makes it hard to avoid disturbing the splinter.”

“I’m d-doing my best.”

Once he had cut away the cloth, he inspected the wound.  The splinter was about an inch across at its widest, and an eighth of an inch at its thickest and protruded a couple of inches from her back.

“Ouch,” he said.  “It’s like a dagger blade.  It’s not far from your spine.”

“That’s what I was afraid of.”

“Do you want me to break off the protruding part?”

“No!”  She inadvertently shook her head and gave another cry as the sudden movement tweaked the nerve.  She gave a couple of shuddering breaths and continued.  “Now, open the bottle of surgical disinfectant and clean the area around the wound with a pad of cotton wool…  Ow!  Gently!  That’s better – the cold of the alcohol is beginning to dull the pain.  Now give me a shot of local anaesthetic.  Use one of the small vials in the top left compartment, and inject half of it in each side of the thickest part of the splinter, about half an inch from the wound…  Good.”  She sighed as the pain-killer began to take effect.  “Now unwrap a number 3 dressing, cut a hole for the splinter and cover the area with it – don’t worry about antiseptic, the dressing is already impregnated with it.”

When Bartes had finished, he cut a slit in a blanket and covered her exposed back with it, carefully threading the splinter through the hole.  He folded another blanket and put it under her head.  “What about our hands?” he asked.

“The cuts look bad, but they’re pretty superficial, really.  They’ll have to be cleaned up, though, to avoid infection.”

“It’s not that – won’t it look a bit suspicious if we have identical wounds?”

“I hadn’t thought of that.”  Tanya pondered a moment.  “Look, clean your hand and anoint it with antiseptic, and cover it with a length of surgical tape.  You’ll have to try to keep it out of sight as much as possible – with any luck it won’t be noticed.  Once you’ve done that, we’ll deal with my hand.”

“What do you mean?” Bartes asked as he followed her instructions.  “Can’t we do the same for you?”

“Because I’m injured, they’ll check me all over, and there’s no way this looks accidental, so we’ll have to disguise it somehow.”

“How?”

“Well, could you clean it up first, and apply some local anaesthetic?”  She reached around her with her other hand and found a piece of flint.

“What’re you going to do with that?”

“Watch.”

Bartes winced as she deliberately drove the jagged edge of the stone into the wound and tore the edges of the previously straight cut.  He could see from the tears in the corners of her eyes that it hurt despite the anaesthetic.

“N-now, c-could you get a f-fire going?” she asked, as she cleaned the now-jagged wound again and put a dressing over it.  “I can f-feel that I’m g-going into shock.”

He quickly gathered some fallen branches and ignited them with a fire-lighter from the emergency kit.  “How do we explain our escape without mentioning what we told the rebels?” he asked Tanya.

She held out her hand towards the growing blaze.  “Ooh, that’s better…  We’ll have to pretend we fled before they arrived.”

“But the Commissar’s body is in the wreckage.  They’ll know we didn’t have time to get out before the rebels turned up.”

“You’ll have to get her corpse out into the open and pose it as if she was shot outside.”

“What about the bloodstains inside the helicopter?”

“Clean up whatever you can. Let’s just hope they don’t look at the wreck too closely.  We can always claim they were caused in the crash, when I gashed my hand.”

Once the fire had taken hold and Tanya had stopped shivering, Bartes took some more branches back to the clearing where they’d crashed and lit a beacon, and laid the Commissar’s corpse out as Tanya had suggested.

He returned to Tanya’s side and they waited, huddled close to the fire.  Gradually, a little warmth crept into their bones, and they relaxed.  Tanya’s eyes were beginning to close and Bartes was starting to doze in sympathy when she gave a little gasp.

“What is it?” he asked with concern.

“Talk to me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Talk to me.  I was beginning to drift off into unconsciousness.  That’s not a good thing to do when you’re in shock, particularly in this cold.”

“Uh…  What should I talk about?”  His mind went momentarily blank, but soon the obvious hit him.  “We’ve got to get away from here,” he began.

“I know.  I hope they find us – and soon.”

“So do I, but I don’t mean here here – I mean this planet here.  We’ve got to get back to Regni before something awful happens.”

“What d’you think is going to happen?”

“Whoever kidnapped us probably has substitutes masquerading as us.  I don’t think we’re important enough for anyone to spend so much effort just to capture and reprogram us – no offence intended.”

“None taken – but if my people, at least, knew I was missing, they’d be looking for me – and they’re quite resourceful.”  Tanya frowned.  “We’re such a close-knit group that replacing all of us would make discovery less likely than only swapping part of the team – though it must have been quite a complex operation.  I think you must be right, but what d’you think our impersonators are planning to do?”

“I don’t know,” Bartes exclaimed in frustration.  “If I did, I wouldn’t feel so exasperated.”

“But how
can
we escape?  They’re watching our every move, and eavesdropping on our conversations.”

Bartes put his tentative thoughts into words.  “Joseph suggested this morning that we take a trip to Lake Kuraken, because they have hovercart races there this weekend.  I’m not certain where this lake is, but I remember someone at work telling me about it.  He’d been there on a skiing holiday, so it must be up in the mountains, and from his description, it’s pretty large, and surrounded by some very wild country.  We stand a much better chance of getting away from our guards in a place like that.”

“That’s all very well, but it won’t take us off-planet.  We have to get home before your unknown disaster strikes – if it hasn’t already.”

“True – but at least it’s a start.  Have you any better ideas?”

Tanya was silent for a while, long enough that Bartes looked down at her to check that she wasn’t losing consciousness.  “Not really,” she said eventually.  “Do you know how far it is from this lake to the Skyport?”

“I’m afraid I don’t – but it’s up in the mountains, so it must be quite a distance.  Are you thinking of stealing a spaceship?”

“If we could reach the Skyport, perhaps we could locate John and undo his conditioning.  He might be able to ‘borrow’ a shuttle, and arrange for us to be smuggled aboard an outgoing vessel.  At the very least, I might be able to persuade someone to contact Mercy for me.”

“That’s all very well, but how do we get to the Skyport?”

Tanya’s forehead wrinkled.  “Look, if we can get to this lake, and can somehow get hold of a map, we might be able steal a boat, sail to somewhere remote and make our way to the Skyport on foot.  It would all take time, but it’s all I can think of at the moment, and it’s better than just waiting and hoping the security forces don’t find out we’ve broken their programming.”

Bartes had a flash of inspiration.  “We’ve
got
a boat – or at least RD has.”

“But that one’s at Plune.”

“I think my workmate mentioned that they had yacht racing on the lake.  If we could only persuade Major Valentine to transport RD’s boat to the lake to take part...”

“Seems a pretty long shot.  And that’s if he’ll even let us go.”

Bartes shrugged.  “It’s worth a try…”

As the sun was finally setting, they heard noises from the direction of the wrecked helicopter.  Tanya dared not move, so Bartes staggered to his feet and called out.  Neither of them cared by this point who their rescuers were, as long as they had more blankets and some hot drinks.

The newcomers were a security team that had been searching for them, and Major Valentine was with them, along with a couple of paramedics.  They had landed by the crashed helicopter, and were beginning to check through the wreckage when Bartes emerged from the edge of the forest and called for help.

When he saw Bartes, Major Valentine cried out and ran towards him.  “Comrade Boris, thank God you’re alive.”  The Major looked genuinely relieved, but his expression changed to one of concern.  “But where’s Comrade Talia?”  He shone his torch to either side.

“She’s been injured.  She’s lying behind a fallen tree-trunk a few yards into the trees.”

“What happened?”

“The rebels who downed our helicopter were trying to kill us.  We got out before they arrived, and reached the trees before they started shooting, but Talia was struck by a splinter from a tree that was hit by one of the bullets.  Please, it’s lodged near her spine and she needs proper medical attention.”

“I’ll see to it at once.”  The Major sent one of the paramedics with a couple of his men to attend to Tanya, and escorted Bartes to his helicopter, where he was handed a mug of blessedly hot coffee.  The Major gave him a few minutes to recover before asking, “Now, can you tell me what happened?”

“I’m still a bit confused,” Bartes prevaricated.  “I gather from what the co-pilot shouted that someone fired a missile at us.”

“We saw that on our radar scopes.”

“Well, the pilot managed to keep a degree of control even after we were hit, and we survived, even though he and his co-pilot didn’t make it.  We got out of the wreck as soon as we could, and saw a number of armed people coming out of the trees.  They were dressed for combat and had rifles, but weren’t soldiers or security troopers.  They raised their guns so we ran for our lives.”