“Yes, you can. You’re almost there.”
“No, I mean it. I can’t. I can’t do this without Draven. Where is he?”
I’m not going to panic. I can do this. Who knew real life could be as exciting as my books? “He’s with the others. Uvie is trying to get through the geostorm interference to get word to him. He’ll be here as soon as he can, I promise. Do you want me to get anyone else? Aria?”
“I just want Draven. He should be here.”
“I know, I’m so sorry, I know.” I let her squeeze my hand until the bones grind together at the onset of another contraction. They’re coming almost on top of each other now. She has to be close. I haven’t checked her or anything because one, I think Draven would bite my head off and B, I wouldn’t even know what I should be looking for.
She blows out a breath and lets her head droop. “Don’t apologize, I’m glad you’re here.”
“Really?”
“All of your blathering kind of distracts me.”
I flush a little, but I also fill with pride. To keep both of us busy these last long hours, I’ve been reciting my favorite works from memory. Granted, a lot were spicy old texts from before the exodus to Earth II like The Wild by K Webster and Toxic by Nicole Blanchard, but they were stimulating and evocative, which kept Molly from focusing too much on the pain. They were also filled with a lot of sex, which only made her say she was never having sex again.
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“It…was…meant…as…one.”
The contractions are coming closer and closer together now. It shouldn’t be long. Well, at least according to what I’ve read. Uvie has been helping keep track of their timing and measuring Molly’s temperature, heart rate, and blood pressure. All of that seems to be normal, thankfully, and Molly is handling it as well as possible.
Which makes exactly one of us.
“Oh, I think I’m pushing,” Molly says and breaks through my increasingly panicked thoughts.
The door slides open and Draven shoves himself through. His face is sheened with sweat and his eyes are bright with fevered exhaustion and desperation. “Am I too late? Did I miss it?”
“Draven, you’re here.”
He goes to her side where she’s leaning against the wall at the head of the bed. “I tried to make it sooner, but the rekking geostorm is a rough one. But I made it back to you. I’ll always make it back to you.”
“Our baby is coming,” Molly says and then she’s pushing again.
Calix follows soon behind, and I melt into the shadows as I let the three of them do their work. I’m nowhere near as tired as Molly must be feeling and I’m running on adrenaline at this point, so I don’t crumple into one of their chairs. Instead I stand by the wall out of the way and try to give them some space to do their work.
She pushes for a short time with Draven holding her hand and murmuring encouragements. In no time, there comes a roar of triumph followed by tinny cries of a disgruntled baby. I cover my mouth with a hand as tears fill my eyes. I wish Oz were here to see this. Maybe someday soon I’ll do this again, except it will be me bringing our child into the world.
They’re snuggling the baby between them while Calix gives Molly a once-over when Molly cries out in pain. A few minutes later, she does it again.
“What is it? Is he hurting you?”
“No, big guy, it’s not that. I think…I think I’m having another baby.”
At that statement, there’s a momentous clap of thunder and a blinding streak of lightning that lights up the whole room. Then, the facility shudders underneath our feet and everything goes dark.
12
Ozias
Seven Solars Left
I can’t rekking see.
The rain is coming down in torrents and the magnastrikes are everywhere. I’m surprised Breccan hasn’t put an end to this. He won’t.
Because we’re running out of time.
He knows this.
I know this.
We all know this.
Geostorm or not, we have to ready this weapon. The Kevins will soon be here and we can’t afford not to be ready.
“Hold it steady,” I bark out over the comms.
Breccan and Jareth both grunt as they tighten the harnesses, keeping the thermablaster still.
“We have trouble,” Sayer warns. “There. In front of that mountain.”
I can’t see because of the rain, but I see the red blips on his scapescanner. Galen grumbles as he flips the safety of his zonnoblaster.
“Armworms?” Breccan asks.
“Sabrevipes,” Galen retorts, stalking forward, his zonnoblaster pointed toward the pack. “Could really use Draven about now.”
Jareth taunts Galen a bit, but I ignore their arguing as I fiddle with my machine. Once I’m certain it’s ready, I dial up the radialnob. Its loud clicking can be heard in between the cracking of magnastrikes. Once its wound tight, ready to absorb thermal energy from the sun beyond the dark red clouds, I aim the weapon past Galen toward the sabrevipe pack.