“Okay.”
“Willow…”
Her eyes are teary as they meet mine. The haunted look in them chills me to my bones. Fierce protectiveness washes over me. “I won’t let them hurt you or any other female here. Do you trust me?”
She’s my mate. Whether or not she realizes that fact yet is beside the point. I’ll protect her with everything I am. I’ll protect her until my dying breath.
She nods rapidly. “I do.”
“Good, my bright star. Now let’s get the rekk out of here.”
9
Willow
The worry of being followed to Mortuus by the evil people who run Earth II is enough to keep me awake for half the night. I’ve spent most of my life trying to get away from their tyranny and for a moment, I thought I’d escaped it here, on this strange planet with its even stranger inhabitants. If I’m telling the truth, this alien planet has become more of a home to me than Earth II ever was.
And its people, my true family.
Yes, I guess that even includes Theron, though I’d never tell him that.
My wandering brain circles back around from family to my mother.
It’s still so strange to think of her in accessible terms. Once The Rades is cured, once we’ve conquered the threat from Earth II, there won’t be anything keeping us apart anymore. The thought of knowing her, being around her, makes my lungs open wide for fresh gulps of recycled air from the ship’s filtration systems. I’ve been so worried about what to do next, I haven’t quite considered the thought of simply enjoying the spoils of years of searching. I’m not sure I even know how.
From my position at the helm, I watch as the terrain passes beneath us. Maybe it does make me feel a little like a God to be above it all, the world at my fingertips. The ship is the only thing between us and the planet and the vastness of space. If I were at the controls like Theron normally is, maybe the feeling of power would go to my head like it does him. Maybe this ship is the only thing in his life he has been able to control, much like searching for my mother is the only thing in mine. Or was.
“These Kevins from Earth II, are they well-armed?” Avrell asks, breaking my reverie.
I nod grimly. “More than. If they decide to attack, I’m not sure what we could do to stop them.” And that’s the crux of it. I may have found my family, a source of happiness, but it could be taken away from me in a snap, like my mother had been all those years ago.
I could lose everything I’ve been searching for my whole life.
And everything I’ve found.
“With what sort of weapons?” Breccan prompts from the comms. I’d been so in my own thoughts I didn’t even realize he and Avrell were communicating. Theron will be pissed he wasn’t in the thick of it, but he needed some sleep so he could pilot the last leg of the trip. We’ve already lost a day by stopping and scouting the area. I should be sleeping, too, but I’m too restless.
“Weapons built on ships the size of the Facility. An endless number of guns—zonnoblasters. Scores of bombs of every type. How do you think this world grew so damaged in the first place?”
Both of the morts grow quiet. They’d faced so much, survived so much, and I realize maybe I have that in common with them, too. We’re all survivors.
I don’t know what the future holds for any of us, but I’m determined that we’ll live to see it.
“When you return to the prison, will you and the other females describe these weapons to Oz? The females here will do the same. We need as much information as possible in case more of the Kevins return.”
“Do you think that’s a real possibility?” Avrell asks.
“We can’t afford not to think of it,” Breccan replies ominously.
He isn’t wrong. If the powers-that-be on Earth II realize there are living beings on Mortuus, a place they consider their property, there will be nothing stopping them from simply killing everyone and using the planet for themselves.
Nothing, except us.
My eyes are drawn back to the view outside the window of Mortuus beneath the ship. Avrell’s and Breccan’s voices begin to fade.
Use. Use. Use.
Take. Take. Take.
What happens to a person when there’s nothing left to give?
I rub the spot where blood still drips from my nose, betraying no reaction at the sight of the crimson liquid staining my fingertips. My insides are scraped raw. There are no feelings left to show, even if I could muster up the energy. It should scare me, that emptiness. I have to wonder if there’ll be anything of the girl my mother remembers if I ever find her.