The Huntress (33 page)

“Maulkin’s dead? The girl killed him?”

“Yeah. I think that might be what’s wrong with her. She killed to save her mother and Mea still might die.”

Conley continued to stare at him, eyebrows raised as they entered the control room. “Pretty insightful for a convict.”

“Go figure.”

A ghost of a smile passed over the other man’s face before he looked down at Warren’s collapsed form. Shoulders slumping, he ran a hand through graying hair with a sigh. “You look how I feel, old friend.”

Pulse fire had seared the android in half a dozen places and what passed for skin and underlying circuits had melted into slag. His right cheek and ear were gone, leaving a gaping grin on one half of his face. His eyes were as lifeless as a mannequin’s. For the first time he looked like an android.

“Head or feet?” Stone was impatient to get back to the infirmary.

“I’ll take the heavy end. You’ve had a rough day and besides, you’re wounded.” The director frowned at him. “I’ll wrap that when we get back. Shouldn’t just let it go like that.”

Stone ignored him and bent down to hoist his end of the android.

“Stone.”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

Glancing up, he could see it hadn’t been easy for Conley to say. The expression on his face said he’d bitten something sour, but he met Stone’s gaze steadily. Uncomfortable, Stone looked down. “Don’t thank me yet,” he muttered, too aware of how close Mea was to leaving them. When Conley said and did nothing, he growled, “We doin’ this or not?”

Conley bent, lifting Warren’s front end without any apparent effort, and they started back down the corridor slowly. “She was right about you,” Conley said with a tight, cryptic smile.

Stone wondered if that was good or bad. He wasn’t going to ask though.

Regan sat where he’d left her. She didn’t look around to see them enter. They lugged Warren to another table then turned as one toward Mea, drawn like metal to a magnet. Conley ran gentle fingers over her forehead and through her dark hair.

Stone stood next to the unresponsive girl, feeling useless and bitter. “She’s so banged up. Why didn’t you heal—”

“What? Her bruises?” Ema snapped at Stone. “In case you hadn’t noticed, stupid, she’s got worse problems. Her body’s trying to quit. Why don’t you two boys stop staring at her and talk to her? Maybe she’ll hear your voices and want to stay.”

“I was gonna say why didn’t you heal the hole in her side?”

“Accelerated healing is an additional trauma that her body can only handle in small increments. Push it too hard and her body starts to break down at a cellular level. Remember that we had to wait between your healings? Same thing, only worse here.”

He glanced down to see how Regan was taking this, but she was still slack-faced and empty-eyed.

There was a long, heavy silence. Then Conley cleared his throat and said in a low voice, “Stone, go get cleaned up. I’ll see to that wound when you get back.”

He folded his arms and ignored the older man, silently refusing to leave.

Conley wasn’t so easily put off, expression intent. “Son, you smell like blood.”

He didn’t have to say Mea’s blood—the look in his eyes said it for him. Suddenly, Stone felt a burning need to get the stuff off him, this reminder of how close she’d come to disappearing from his life forever. And how close she still was. With a sharp nod, he turned and left.

Marching down the corridor without glancing at the door to Mea’s quarters, he entered what had been his room and headed to the sanitary, stripping as he went. Turning on the shower as hot as he could stand it, he scrubbed ruthlessly at the bloody stains on his body. Clean, he stood under a cold stream of water until he shuddered, then stepped out. The coag pack had kept most of the water off his wound, but it now burned and throbbed. Toweling off, he pulled on a clean set of clothes and headed back to the infirmary, favoring his side.

Conley was in the middle of a one-sided conversation with Mea when he entered.“—you were, sitting pretty as you please right on the edge, looking at me like it was no big jet. I almost had a heart attack. You remember that? Scared the shit right out of me.” He paused then lowered his voice. “You’re scaring me more now, girl.”

The older man ran a hand over his face, looking up at Stone with bloodshot eyes. Without a word, he rose and gathered some medical supplies before approaching Stone.

“I can do it myself.”

“Don’t be stupid. Lift your shirt.”

With an irritable shrug, he did as ordered. Conley slowly peeled the coag pack away. It hurt like hell.

“Sorry,” the older man muttered when Stone tensed. “This is anesthetic ointment. It’ll hurt at first, but then it’ll be numb.”

The stuff burned like fire and ice, and he gritted his teeth until sensation disappeared from his side. Then he watched Conley clean, medicate, and bandage the wound.

“Done.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.”

While Conley put the supplies away, Stone moved to stand next to Regan again. Mea still floated in the air, looking no different than the last time he’d seen her, but Stone still fought a battle not to ask Ema if anything had changed. Reaching out, he pushed his fingers through the force field to touch her hand. The field made his fingers tingle, but he could still feel the softness of her skin, and when he grasped her hand it felt delicate—fragile. He’d never noticed how small she was—she’d always seemed larger than life. The mighty, invincible huntress.

“Mea,” he murmured with an ache in his voice, aware of the darkness gibbering for him in the back of his mind. If she died, he’d let it have him and would end up dead
himself. His survival instinct was too strong for suicide, but he’d revert, end up in the slam again, and then let somebody there do it for him. His only problem with that fatalistic future sat next to him.

He frowned, looking down at Regan. She had the same fatality on her face, and he knew she could expect a similar future. Too much had happened to her and too many people had left her alone, him included.

“Did she ever tell you about the time she almost blew up the academy?” Conley interrupted his dark thoughts.

Stone looked over his shoulder to see the older man slouched next to the android with tools in hand. “No,” he said when it was clear Conley was waiting for a reply.

“It was her first week at the academy. You remember that, Mea? You kept swearing it was the other kid’s fault—what was his name? Dag something or other. Anyway…” He paused to curse when the tool slipped. “Stone, come hold this for me.”

He joined the director, accepting the tool and putting it where ordered. Then Conley continued working with a different tool.

“Anyway, she was in the explosives lab working after hours. Chemistry was never her strong suit, but she was determined even back then to be the best at everything. According to her, the kid surprised her and her fingers slipped, starting the chain reaction. God, what a mess! The kids were lucky to be alive—somehow, the explosives stored in the back didn’t blow or the whole academy would have gone up in smoke.” He chuckled. “I heard about that one for weeks from the professor and the director. Until she pulled her next stunt. She was a damned hellion.”

Stone settled on a seat opposite him as Conley launched into another story about Mea’s younger days. He included Mea in the conversation as though she was just resting her eyes and at any moment she’d tell him he was full of shit, that’s not at all how it happened. Through this running monologue, they slowly pieced the android back together. Time dragged by.

At one point, Conley interrupted himself with a satisfied grunt and removed the VR gear he’d been wearing. “That ought to do it.”

Stone looked from him to the android, wondering what the hell he was talking about. There was still a lot of work to be done.

Then Warren opened his eyes. “Hey, Mike.” His words were a little mushy—he was still missing a cheek—but his tone was as casual as if nothing had happened.

“Hey, Sparks. How’s it hangin’?”

“Usually low and to the left, but today it’s hard to say.” The android caught sight of Stone and a half smile pulled at his features. “Well, well. Seth Terrik,” he said with obvious relish.

Stone jerked in surprise, head lifting. Conley grinned maliciously at him. “You fixed his memory?”

“Restored it. Undid what Mea had done.”

“Isn’t that risky?”

Conley shrugged. “Warren deserves to have his past back.”

“Thanks, Chief.” Warren looked at Stone with a glint in his eyes. “I’d ask how it felt to be the only man to say no to Mea, but it looks like that didn’t last long. So, how does it feel to come crawling back?”

“Like shit,” he muttered, gaze shifting without volition to Mea’s battered body.

Curious, Warren lifted his head to see past them. “Oh, god.” His tone and expression matched the blasted ruins of his face and body. He closed his eyes and let his head fall back with a thunk. “What happened?”

“Obviously the slaver mission didn’t go as planned. Mea and Regan were held captive for about ten days. Stone rescued them, and Mea took a shot on the way out. She’s—not doing well.”

With his only functional arm, Warren covered his eyes.

“Stop blaming yourself, old friend. I know that’s what you’re doing.”

“But I should have done something—anything!”

“Like what, fight back? Your programming would self-destruct if you tried. And by the looks of it, you weren’t in any shape for a rescue.” Warren dropped his arm and looked at Conley, but the man held up a hand to forestall him. “No, shut up, Warren. I’m sick and tired of having this same old argument. You are what you are and nothing’s going to change that. Let’s see what we can do to get you up and moving around, all right?”

“Will she live?”

“We don’t know.”

A heavy silence fell while they started working on the android again. After a while, Conley picked up his story where he’d left off, now including Warren in the conversation along with Mea. The android didn’t speak but laughed or murmured wordlessly in all the right places. Conley paused at the end of his story before finishing, “She never did give up a hunt. Not once.”

Stone couldn’t let that one pass. “She said she gave up on mine.”

Warren snorted. “Don’t kid yourself. She might have stopped hunting you for the Corp, but that didn’t mean she stopped hunting you altogether. It was just a different kind, that’s all. You telling me you didn’t feel hunted? You sure looked it, running away all the time—”

Stone deliberately let the tool slip and a shock made Warren jump.

“Okay, point taken,” the android mumbled.

Conley chuckled softly. “He only does that to people he likes, you know.”

“Lucky me.”

There was enough sarcasm in his low mutter to make the older man chuckle again before he launched into another story. Stone let the hunter’s voice drone on but paid scant attention, exhaustion tugging away at his concentration. His eyes kept blurring and the next time the tool slipped—this time by accident—Warren gently took it from him and started to fix himself.

Rubbing the tense muscles at the back of his neck, Stone stood and drifted back over to Mea’s side. She looked the same, maybe a little paler, and he couldn’t resist asking, “Status?” He’d kept his voice low, but Conley abruptly stopped speaking to hear Ema’s reply.

“Same.”

The director sighed, and silence once again fell over the group. Stone looked down at the kid. Her eyes slid closed and head bobbed before she pulled herself straight. Dark circles marred the tender skin under her eyes, and her features had a drawn, skeletal look. She was way past exhausted and didn’t seem to care.

“Regan, go lie down.”

She didn’t even blink. Stone crossed the room and activated the other table, retrieving a pillow and two blankets from storage. Shaking one of the blankets out onto the table, he took the other blanket over to her. Wrapping it around her gently, he lifted the kid up and carried her to the makeshift bed. He laid her down, but as he turned away, she sat up and slid over to the side, eyes fixed on her mother.

“Damn it, lie down.”

She ignored him and slipped off the table. He picked her up again and laid her back down, covering her with the blanket. She waited until he stepped away before sitting up.

“Maybe if you stayed with her, she’d fall asleep.”

Conley didn’t turn around to give this little gem of wisdom. Stone moved back to Regan’s side, muttering irritably under his breath. She slumped against him, head resting on his chest, face turned toward her mother. She also grasped one of his hands tightly. With a sigh, he settled himself to wait. It didn’t take long.

Five minutes later, her little body went heavy with sleep, and her breathing grew deep and even. As carefully as if he were handling an eggshell, he cupped the back of her neck and lowered her to a reclined position, but when he tried to pull away, her hand tightened around his.

Stone gave up. Activating a seat, he sank down on it and put his head on folded arms. He didn’t expect to sleep but hoped to rest some. In less time than it’d taken Regan, he was out cold.

Chapter 28

Stone woke to misery, his eyes gritty, his neck kinked, and his side throbbing like a rotten tooth. Sitting up with a groan, he rubbed his aching neck and glanced around the infirmary. Regan still lay curled in a sleeping huddle next to him, but Conley and the android weren’t there. Mea hung suspended over Ema’s table, pale and silent.

“Status,” he croaked, pushing to his feet and staggering to her side.

“Same. You should get more rest. Or maybe have Warren bring you something to drink and eat. You look like hell.”

He ignored the AI. “How far out are we?”

“Does it matter? We’re not there yet. At least drink something. You’re dehydrated.”

“Where’s the director?”

“Control room.” When he turned toward the door, she continued in an urgent voice, “Don’t leave the child!”

“What?”

She sighed. “I didn’t want to say this, because words said in private shouldn’t be shared. But when you were out of the infirmary, she told Mea, ‘If you die, I die.’ She shouldn’t be alone.”