Authors: Kate Douglas
Dream Unchained (25 page)
Finn shook his head. He couldn't make eye contact with Liz or Kiera. Not with Cam, either. “Bane had Nattoch, Rodie, and Morgan. Rodie and Nattoch were injured, but they all left with Bane at the same time we did. He should be here. The ship exploded as we were leaving. I don't know if he got caught in the blast or what happened. Shit, Mac. Rodie has Zianne's soulstone. It recognized her name when Rodie went into the vault to get it, but she's not back. I can't believe they didn't make it.”
He was rambling. He knew he was rambling, but it was so damned hard, kneeling here and trying to talk to Mac while the tears ran down the man's face and dripped off his chin. While Zianne lay pale and lifeless in Mac's arms.
The ones in the shack fell silent. Light continued flickering through the skylight as pieces of the Gar ship fell to Earth in long, burning trails across the heavens.
Then Niah raced into the shack with Mir just behind her. “Where are they?”
Finn turned and stared at her. “Where's who?”
“Rodie and Nattoch. Bane told us to meet him here, that they needed healing.”
“Bane? You've heard from him?”
“Yes. Just now. He's . . .” She smiled. “Here they are.”
Energy spiraled through the ceiling. Niah disassembled and a moment later she was back in her human form and helping to lay Nattoch on the floor of the shack. He was bleeding profusely from a deep slice running across his shoulder and chest, but Niah disassembled once again and disappeared inside the man.
Finn realized that Mir was helping Bane lay Rodie beside Nattoch. Like the older man, she was bleeding from deep wounds, but hers ran diagonally across her thighs. Mir brushed Rodie's hair back from her face as she checked for more injuries, and then flashed into energy and disappeared inside the unconscious woman.
Morgan knelt beside her, gasping for each breath. His hands shook badly. He fumbled awkwardly with the clasp on her fanny pack, finally loosened the strap and tugged it off her. The nylon bag was scorched from the Gar's weapon, but he unzipped the pouch and dug around a bit before pulling out her small digital camera. It appeared to be in one piece.
Morgan wrapped his hand around the thing and bowed his head over Rodie, as if he prayed. Finn put an arm around Morgan's shoulders and gave him a quick hug. “She'll be all right, Morgan. You got her home in time.”
Morgan nodded, but he didn't move. His entire focus was on Rodie, on the way the deep wounds in her left thigh was already beginning to close. Fascinated, Finn watched for a moment before he noticed the soft glow of Zianne's soulstone in the bottom of Rodie's open pack.
He reached in and wrapped his fingers around the glowing diamond. It filled his hand, a warm, living stone that held Zianne's soul. What would happen to it, now that she was dead?
Cupping the stone in his palm, he carried it to Mac and opened his hand. The stone glimmeredâan egg-sized diamond so perfect, so brilliant, it almost looked alive. “This is Zianne's. Mac, I'm so sorry.”
Mac held out his hand and Finn set the stone carefully in his palm. Mac stared at it a moment, blinking away tears before he turned and looked at Finn. “How did they put the stones inside themselves? I want her to have it, even if it is too late. It belongs with her.”
“The others retrieved their stones while they were still energy. They just seemed to absorb them. The stones disappeared inside. Here. Like this.” He wrapped his hand around Mac's and turned it so that the stone touched Zianne between her breasts.
The diamond flashed and then it was gone. Mac flattened his hand over the spot where it disappeared inside her, and bowed his head against Zianne's. Finn backed away. This should be a private time. He didn't want to intrude on the man's grief.
Cam walked to the door and stared outside. “The shooting has stopped. I wonder if the ship exploding convinced them to leave.”
Finn stood beside him. “I doubt it.” As he watched, most of the lights around the compound flickered and went out. “What's going on?”
Cam nodded toward the back of the dream shack. A group of Nyrians were coming around the side of the building. “They've been running the array and everything else on that line. Bart Roberts's group blew the power poles down on the main road and knocked us out. The generator runs emergency lights, but the Nyrians powered up the array so we could send that energy beam to you.”
Finn shook his head. “I had no idea you'd lost power. If Tara and Bane hadn't come when they did, we'd all be dead. We were shot by one of the guards, and his weapon was a lot stronger than we expected. Nattoch and Rodie are the only ones with visible injuries, but the charge fried our energy levels. No one had enough strength to bring the wounded home.”
Cam stared at him a moment. “You mean there were Nyrians who could have made the trip on their own, and they stayed because of the wounded?”
Finn nodded. He hadn't given himself time to really think that through, but it had truly been an act of both bravery and compassion when those who could have left chose to stay. “I know Tor and Arnec could have made it. Probably Bolt and Duran as well, but they never mentioned leaving without the rest of us. Bane and Tara arrived just in time. The ship's hull started to fail as we left. We just caught your stream of energy and followed it in.”
“What was it like up there, Finn? My head was filled with images. Horrible images of bodies. Not human, I don't think, but there was such a terrible feeling about it.”
“It was bad, Cam. Really bad.” He glanced at Mac, still holding on to Zianne's body, his face buried in her long, black hair. It made him ache to see such grief. He shook his head and touched Cam's shoulder. “Later. When we're all together and we can share the story with everyone.”
Cam was watching Mac as well. He glanced at Finn and nodded.
Lizzie stepped close to Finn and wrapped her arms around his waist. “I'm glad you're back, Finn.”
He looked down at her. She was such a tiny little thing. Tiny, and yet so damned strong. “Me, too, Lizzie.” He sighed and hugged her close. “Me, too.”
13
M
ac raised his head. He thought everyone had already gone, that they'd left him alone with Zianne, but then he heard Morgan's voice and realized Morgan was standing right beside him. Turning his head, Mac frowned. He really had been alone with Zianne, as far as he was concerned. Why was anyone still here?
ac raised his head. He thought everyone had already gone, that they'd left him alone with Zianne, but then he heard Morgan's voice and realized Morgan was standing right beside him. Turning his head, Mac frowned. He really had been alone with Zianne, as far as he was concerned. Why was anyone still here?
“Thank you, Mir.” Morgan went to his knees and scooped a barely conscious Rodie up in his arms. “I really can't thank you enough. She looks a lot better now, but I know she's exhausted. I'm going to take her to my cabin, let her get some sleep.”
Mir stepped back and bowed her head, almost as if she was honoring Rodie and Morgan. Fascinated, Mac watched the interplay between the humans and the Nyrian, but it was hard to make sense of what was happening.
It was hard to make sense of anything. He rubbed his cheek against Zianne's dark hair. He knew he should take her over to the lodge, maybe lay her body in one of the rooms until they could deal with her burial, or however her people wanted to handle her death, but he wasn't ready to turn her free. Not yet.
Voices again, interrupting his thoughts. What was Mir saying? He focused on the beautiful Nyrian. She'd certainly done a great job when she healed Rodie's injuries. There was new, pink skin showing through the burned areas of Rodie's jeansâhealed skin where deep burns had crossed her thighs. Why in the hell hadn't any of them been able to heal Zianne?
Morgan held Rodie cradled in his arms, as if she were a precious child.
The way Mac held Zianne.
“Morgan,” Mir was saying, “you and Rodie and Finn risked your lives to save ours, an alien species you've only known a few days. I would do anything for you. We all feel the same way. No one has ever shown us such selfless love. All of you will be forever in our hearts, a part of us. Be well.” Mir brushed her hand over Rodie's tangled hair. “She will need to eat before too long. Disassembling stresses these human bodies. We're all learning they have to be fed.”
“I'll make sure she eats when she wakes up. How is Nattoch?”
Mac frowned and dropped his gaze lower. He hadn't realized the older Nyrian was still lying on the floor. Satza and Corin sat beside him. Mac thought Niah might be the one healing him. He remembered seeing a huge, gaping wound across Nattoch's chest, but it was almost entirely closed now.
“His injuries are serious,” Mir said. “Much of his blood remained on the ship. Niah is trying to stabilize him for now. Is there a bed where we can take him? A quiet place to heal?”
Morgan answered her. “Rodie's cabin. It's empty and I'll be keeping her at my cabin for a while. If you can move Nattoch now and want to bring him, I'll show you the way.” He turned and glanced over his shoulder at Mac. “Will you be okay, Mac? I don't like to leave you alone.”
He wanted to shout that he wasn't alone. He had Zianne, but she wasn't really here anymore, was she? He pressed a hand to her chest, to the spot where her soulstone had disappeared. Maybe part of her was still here. Her soul. Thank Nyria, Rodie had found her soul. She'd almost lost her life to bring it back. “I'm okay,” he said. “Take care of Rodie.” Morgan jerked his head in a sharp nod. Shifting Rodie's weight in his arms, he walked toward the door.
Niah slipped free of Nattoch in a burst of gold and blue energy and took corporeal form. The four women easily lifted the comatose man and followed Morgan out of the shack.
Finally. He was finally alone with Zianne.
Selfless love,
Mir had called it. Zianne's love had been selfless, and now she was dead. It wasn't right.
Mir had called it. Zianne's love had been selfless, and now she was dead. It wasn't right.
He heard a helicopter make a low pass overhead. Maybe Dink was off filming something else. He knew Nickâthe pilotâhad slipped out a bit ago. Mac wondered where everyone had gone, what was happening with the terrorists. Then he wondered if it really mattered.
Not really.
Nothing mattered anymore. Nothing but holding Zianne close to his heart for as long as he could. He gazed up at the skylight. The emergency lighting in the shack was dim, and he could see stars in the nighttime sky. Was Zianne's goddess out there? Did Nyria understand what Zianne had lost, even though she'd followed through on her promise to save her people?
He had a feeling that last mental link had been too much, that by joining Mac and the others, Zianne had given up her own chance at survival. But by doing so, she'd saved all the others.
He choked back a curse. It wouldn't change a thing, but maybe a prayer? If the goddess was really out there, it certainly couldn't hurt, could it? He stared at the stars.
Nyria? If you're out there, will you please watch over my Zianne? She gave everything she had. I don't know how I'm going to go on without her, but I don't want to think of her alone, of her soul wandering. Please take care of her.
He wasn't sure what he wanted. Some kind of sign that Zianne's elusive goddess had heard his prayer? He got nothing. Not a damned thing, which was really all he'd expected.
He was so tired. Twenty years working toward this goal, and even though it had been mostly a success, his ultimate failure would haunt him forever.
He was holding his failure in his arms.
He gazed at her, wishing for one more chance to see into those brilliant amethyst eyes. One more chance to tell her how much he loved her, hear her whisper the same words back to him.
“Damn it all, Zianne. I love you. Finn's right. This wasn't supposed to happen. Not like this. Never like this.”
He needed to take Zianne to the lodge.
In a little while. For now, though, he really felt a need to close his eyes. Maybe take just a few minutes to rest.
To sleep with Zianne in his arms one last time.
Â
Dink watched the sheriff's department helicopter make a low pass over the array. The big spotlight swept right to left and back again, lighting up the huge white dishes. A few men scattered beneath the beam of light, but there were more deputies on the ground, rounding them up like cattle.
They'd brought a bus in, parked it down on the road that led into Roberts's land, and they were arresting all the idiots they could catch and loading them in for the trip to town. They'd all be booked on myriad chargesâenough to keep everyone out of Mac's hair for a while, at least.
There were no more gunshots. A few shouts, some cursing, but the battle was over. Help had come too little, too late, but he told Nick to keep the camera rolling. They were back to a live feed now, sending real-time film to the station in Sacramento. The crew there was editing, making it clean enough for broadcast, and they kept asking for more.
The Nyrians' story had gone viral. It was currently on all the networks and cable stations. Short blasts showing up on Twitter and links to YouTube film on Facebook. Reporters from every major network and cable news show and all the tabloids were converging on the DEO-MAP site.
No one was getting in, not while Ralph and his men guarded the front gate.
That decision had been an easy one. Not yet. Not with Mac still in the dream shack holding Zianne. He owed it to both of them to give Mac this time to mourn. Dink couldn't allow himself to think of her. Not yet, if he wanted to do his job, but he refused to let anyone intrude on Mac's grief.
“Excuse me. I'm looking for MacArthur Dugan.”
Well, shit.
Dink turned quickly, signaled to Nick to continue filming, and grabbed the deputy sheriff's arm, leading him away from the camera. “Can I help you? Mac's really busy right now. I'm Nils Dinkemann, New World News.” He held out his hand.
Dink turned quickly, signaled to Nick to continue filming, and grabbed the deputy sheriff's arm, leading him away from the camera. “Can I help you? Mac's really busy right now. I'm Nils Dinkemann, New World News.” He held out his hand.
“Ted Alvisa.” The deputy shook hands but his raised eyebrows told a story all their own. “Mac's bigger than I thought, if he's got New World's top reporter running interference.”
Dink held on to his temper, barely. “Power has nothing to do with it. Mac's been a good friend for a long time. And, for what it's worth, anyone who knows Mac Dugan would do anything for him. Which brings up a salient pointâwhere the hell were you when we were under attack?”
“Point taken.” The deputy cursed under his breath. “The board of supervisors pulled rank. Wouldn't let us provide help. Said that Mac was leading an alien attack against the U.S. and called for military backup to shut you down.”
Dink folded his arms over his chest and waited for more.
“Look, I came by to tell Mac I'm sorry. I'm probably going to lose my job over this, but while they were dicking around figuring what channels to go through to call in a strike on a civilian operation, I got together enough of my deputies, deputized a few others, and started arresting the jerks coming up here to help Roberts blow up the array.”
He stared out across the plateau. “I don't know what Mac's got going on here, but he's always been straightforward with me, and his project has poured a hell of a lot of money into a very poor county. Money he's spent here with no strings attached. I want him to know I'm doing what I can, and I'll keep doing it.”
Dink glanced at the helicopter still making low, slow sweeps across the plateau. “I take it the chopper's one of those things you're doing?”
Alvisa nodded. “It is, though from what we heard on our way up here, someone at the Pentagon has been on the horn to the local board, wondering why you're not getting any support, so I'm hoping authorization will come through at any time. I'm really sorry. Roberts has a lot of pull around here. He's put money into a lot of pockets, but Dugan's put even more money into the hands of people who really need it. I hope our inability to provide service didn't harm anyone.”
Dink glanced toward the shack. “Only one,” he said softly. “Just one.”
“Hey, Dink?”
Dink looked over his shoulder. Cam walked across the open area, still dressed in those torn sweats, still covered in paint.
“Yeah? What's up?”
“I've got the paintings finished and set up in order in the dining hall. You said you wanted to do a recap of what's happened so far. They're ready to go when you are. My work's pretty rough, but should give viewers a visual of what's been going on.”
“Thanks, Cam. I'll get Nick and Carl, and we'll be right over. Will Mir and Niah be available to help explain what we're seeing?”
“Niah's still working on Nattoch. He was pretty badly hurt, but Mir will be there. So will Tor, if I can get him away from Kiera.” He laughed. “And Finn. He said he'd show up as well, so we'll have a pretty good narrative to go along with the visuals.”
Cam gave Dink a cocky salute and headed back toward the lodge. “You'll have to excuse me, Deputy.” Dink shoved his hands in his pockets and stared at the few stragglers still heading toward the lodge. “Unless you want to come see what's happened here tonight. Cameron's done some pretty explicit sketches and paintings of what we've been dealing with, both here and on the Gar ship before it exploded.”
Alvisa stared after Cam. “I thought that kid looked familiar. That's Cameron Paisley, right? The artist?”
“You've heard of him?”
“Hasn't everyone? The guy's world famous. I had no idea he was part of this project.”
“Mac preferred to keep things low key.”
The deputy chuckled. “Well, he did a hell of a job. At least until tonight. Blowing an alien spaceship within sight of half the population of Earth is pretty high profile.”
Dink merely nodded as he stood there with the deputy, watching the helicopter continue its slow sweep of the plateau and the surrounding countryside. He couldn't escape the hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach, no matter how much had been accomplished tonight. For him, personally, none of it really mattered as much as the one big failure they'd had.
Zianne hadn't survived to see any of this.
He really wanted to go to Mac. Needed to share his friend's grief, but there was a world awaiting news. A world of humans who would have to adjust to aliens living among them. And that was his job, wasn't it? Giving individual faces and personalities to the twenty-seven Nyrians they'd managed to save.
Twenty-seven out of twenty-eight. Not bad when you looked at the numbers, but it really sucked when he thought of the one they'd failed.
With a sharp nod to Deputy Alvisa, Dink gestured for Nick to follow, and headed to the lodge.
Â
Dreams were so strange. Mac knew he was dreaming when he suddenly felt cool grass beneath his bare feet and the strong grasp of Zianne's hand in his. They walked through a brilliant green meadow speckled with unfamiliar wildflowers and an even more brilliant blue sky overhead.
“It's not real, is it?”
“It's as real as you want it to be.” Zianne stopped walking and grabbed his free hand, holding both his hands as she faced him. “This was Nyria as I remember it. I wanted to share it with you. I will always love you, Mac. And we did it. We saved all of them. Even Nattoch is going to make it, despite the old fool thinking he was ready to die. I'm so glad he didn't.”
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