Stealing Mercury (Arena Dogs Book 1) (11 page)

“How will we find her?” Lo spoke from next to him.

Mercury started to speak but a flash drew his gaze to the sky. A puffy white trail of smoke traced across and downward. Mercury pointed. “There. We will find her close to where the smoke meets the ground.”

He glanced at Carn again. The man looked stoic and paler than usual, but he stood straight and tall. Mercury could only hope his need to get back to Hera would drive him more than it hurt him.

“Let’s go.”

Roma Campsite, Planet G-45987

Earth Alliance Beta Sector - Gollerra Border

2210.157

Samantha brushed tree bark off her hands and took in a deep breath. It was the first planetary air she’d breathed in nearly a year and it smelled heavily of vegetation. Dense forest surrounded them on all sides. She’d managed to drop the escape-pod in a kilometer square patch of barren soil.

The cargo-drop Mercury, Carnage and Diablo were in had a much cruder propulsion system so she couldn’t be sure exactly where they’d landed, but she’d tried to put them down in the same general area. She had their promise and it was the most habitable spot on the planet.

And her gut told her to keep them close.

Drake dropped another branch onto the small stack of firewood. “What do you suppose made this clearing?”

Samantha reached down and broke the seal on one of the bedrolls she’d hauled out earlier. “Probably the terraforming platform we saw.” Or more accurately, crashed into. “There’s three more positioned across the planet.” The huge equipment had been visible from orbit and easy enough to spot since there’d been no vegetation, or anything else, around them.

“Why in the hell didn’t you put us down near one of them? There might have been supplies.”

“None of the others are functional as far as I could tell and the areas where the other platforms are located are not nearly as hospitable as this section.”

Drake shifted the position of the last log he’d dropped. “Makes sense.”

“Not really. It’s like they were never activated, or they were shut down after stage one. But the one that was here must have run the full course. The vegetation here is way too advanced for recent terraforming. Who would install four terraforming platforms, activate only one, then let the planet and the equipment sit idle for fifty to a hundred years?”

“I think that’s a mystery for another day.” Straightening, he stretched his arms over his head with a grunt of pain.

“Hurting?”

“Feels like someone rolled me in a metal washtub and hung me out to dry.”

Samantha huffed, surprised he’d admit to any weakness. “You need the med kit?”

“Just bruises. We should conserve the meds. I’ll be fine.” He hunched down and went back to arranging the firewood.

“That’s good, because we still need more fuel for the fire.” She used the back of her sleeve to wipe perspiration from her brow. The humidity gave the air a steam-like quality and made it difficult to breath. “From what I could tell from my scan of the planet, we can expect the temperature to drop dramatically with nightfall.” She didn’t like the idea of being soaked through when that happened.

“We could sleep in the pod, but I guess it’s better to conserve the energy.”

Samantha nodded in agreement. “Any idea why Resler disappeared?”

After what had happened on the ship, Resler had become quiet, moody, and scarce. When she’d returned from the cargo-hold, she’d found him dazed, but awake enough to help her haul an unconscious Drake into the escape-pod. When the explosion in the cargo-hold had rocked the ship, Resler had panicked. As soon as she’d landed the escape-pod safely, he’d started avoiding her.

 “He’ll be along shortly. I’m afraid he’s not used to roughing it.”

Samantha scanned the horizon.

The thick vegetation suggested there could be some small game to supplement the packaged emergency rations. It had to have been some sophisticated terraforming technology. She wasn’t worried for herself or the men she’d brought down with her. It was the men in the cargo-drop that occupied her thoughts. They could end up stranded much longer.

Samantha spread out a bedroll where she’d cleared the debris from the ground. “Well, he should probably stick close to camp.”

Despite Resler’s panic, she’d been able to send out a distress call and set a beacon. When help came looking, they’d find the
Dove
in orbit. They had plenty of supplies to hold them until then, but the newly freed slaves would have far less and they wouldn’t be getting off the planet when help arrived. They’d have to depend on her to beg, borrow, or steal a ship to get back.

Samantha stood and moved to spread out another bed roll. “I sent out a message to Roma before we launched the pod.” She hadn’t wanted to contact them directly, but it would have looked suspicious if she’d abandoned ship without sending something.

“That’s good.” Drake’s voice came from directly behind her.

She fought instinct not to bolt away from him. She needed to keep things friendly. Samantha straightened and turned and found herself practically in his arms.

“I prefer a warm bed and good food myself,” he said. “But we’ll be fine. We’ve both been in worse places.”

“That’s right. The Mitna camp.” He ignored her conversational volley, but maybe he’d said all he wanted to on the subject.

 She’d been lucky on Haverlee—though she hadn’t realized it at the time. The refugee camp had been safer than most. Since she’d signed on to her father’s ship she’d seen a lot of ports. The wars of the last century had left displaced refugees scattered on both sides of the border. Most camps were scary, desolate slums. Mitna was one of the worst. When the Earthers had tried to push into the territory of the hive-like Rettans in that part of the galaxy they’d been soundly defeated. The repercussions ended in the destruction of several human colonies. Mitna had exploited the refugees unlucky enough to end up there. It wasn’t hard to believe a place like that could turn out such a hard-hearted man.

“It must have been terrible growing up there.”

The cockiness drained out of his face, his features melting into a blank mask. “Don’t pity me, Sam. At least on Mitna we didn’t have to live under the thumb of aliens. You of all people should understand that being born in a camp might be pitiable, but those of us that got out are different from the weaklings that stay there and wallow in the filth.”

People with nothing, no education, no skills.

Despite her best intentions, his smug callousness grated on her nerves and her irritation colored her tone when she spoke. “You’re always assuming you know me. Yes, I grew up in a refugee camp. Doesn’t mean we’re the same.”

Anger flared, burning away the mask and revealing the side of him that frightened her.

“You’re right,” he said. “Despite that pilot’s license, I’ve never met a woman so stupid.”

She forced a smile. “You’re welcome to your opinion.”

She had no intention of letting him bait her any further. She was stuck with him and Resler until help came. All too aware of the precariousness of her situation, she tried to step back.

He grabbed her arms. “Don’t be a fool, Sam.”

“Take your hands off me, Drake.”

“You look so pale, Sam. Don’t worry. I’m not going to hurt you.” There was no rush in his movements when he released her. His smile, when he stepped back, turned her stomach. “In fact, I’d be happy to make sure nothing hurts you. All you have to do is ask.”

She didn’t understand at first. Then she saw Resler over Drake’s shoulder. He’d been watching them, waiting. As Drake turned his back on her and walked away, Resler stalked steadily toward her, intent clear in his eyes.

“Until then,” Drake tossed over his shoulder. “I’ll be inventorying the supplies. You and Resler can finish collecting the wood for the fire.”

Samantha didn’t see any sign of interest in wood gathering in Resler’s hate-filled face. Back on the ship, while she’d been prepping the escape-pod, he’d ranted and shouted, blaming her for
setting-him-up
to crash the ship.

“Don’t forget,” said Drake. “All you have to do is ask.”

Right. That was going to happen.

She kept her gaze fixed on Resler. His gaze fixed firmly on her breasts as he tugged his top free of his pants.

Without a weapon she’d have to let him get close if she intended to fight him. She might be able to stand her ground. He was an idiot, more brawn than brain, and still recovering from a leg injury. Maybe she could talk him out of the intent in that wild look, shame him into re-thinking his course of action. Maybe she could even out-fight him, but he came from a world that was all about combat. Did she want to take a chance?

Samantha ran.

Not toward Drake and the help with a price he’d implied. Toward the trees.

She kicked her legs and sucked in air. Resler’s laugh rang out behind her.

She went for a crowded clump of trees where she might be able to out-maneuver him. She could hear him gaining ground behind her. As she broke through the tree line, vines snagged at her ankles and arms. Leaves slapped her face. She ducked her head, trying to keep one eye on the root covered ground and the other looking for a way through.

Behind her the thwap of brambles slapping against a stampeding body swelled. Saplings snapped, vines scraped along the leaf strewn ground. Resler had made it to the brush. She darted around a tree and sprinted in a new direction. Her lungs ached as she fought for the oxygen her surging muscles required to keep going.

Resler breathed just as heavily behind her. “Fucking. Bitch.”

Too close. His voice had come from right behind her. Run. Run. She had to run faster.

Her head snapped back, the hand suddenly jerking her hair seemed to be trying to rip it out by the roots. Momentum carried her forward, pulling Resler with her. Her knees hit the ground as she came to an abrupt stop.

“Got you!”

The tug at her scalp loosened and she crashed forward. She managed to thrust her arms out to protect her face as she hit the ground. Then Resler landed on her, knocking the breath from her lungs.

She scrambled to get away, but couldn’t break free. She swung back and her elbow connected with his jaw. He cursed and cuffed her on the back of the head. Her vision blurred and tears filled her eyes in an unstoppable flood.

She tried to make her body move, to crawl, to fight, but her muscles had stopped responding to her commands. Taking advantage of her momentary inability to move, he flipped her over and crushed her into the ground. “Fight if you want,” he said. “That only makes it better.”

Her throat tightened and bitter acid seeped into the back of her mouth. His arm pressed against her windpipe was making it even harder to breathe. He grabbed at her breast, squeezing painfully with his free hand then tugged at her top. Fabric ripped. The weight of his arm lifted off her neck and she gasped, desperate for air.

“Well damn. What’s this?”

He spread her shirt wide and pressed a palm to her belly. She knew it would be an angry scarlet-gold. Too bright for any normal human flush of color. He tugged at one of her sleeves. The seam gave way at the shoulder, bearing the bands of color that stood out in vivid contrast.

“Fucking mutt.” He spat at her then pressed his arm back in place and grabbed for the waistband of her pants with his other hand. Apparently, her mixed blood wasn’t enough to change his plans.

She willed her muscle control to return, to let her fight. Her heart beat like a trapped hoverbird. The arm at her throat shifted enough to allow one deep breath. The darkness in her vision bled away and everything came back to sharp focus. She squeezed her hand into a fist, grateful when the command made its way successfully from her brain to her muscles.

Samantha put every scrap of strength she could muster into a swing. He dodged her fist but the movement gave her a small opening. She twisted under him and tried to drag, pull, kick her way forward.

His hand caught in her shirt. The ripped fabric pulled tight as he dragged her backward. His weight pressed across her hips and crushed her into the ground. A root dug into her belly. Damp leaves clung to her cheek.

“You’re done… you little… bitch.” Resler’s labored breaths puffed against her temple. His heavy breathing drowned out any sound beyond their two bodies. Each shift of his weight, as he struggled to keep her pinned, as he groped her, created a new ache or jab of pain.

Samantha sucked in what little breath her crushed lungs could hold. The loamy smell of rotting vegetation filled her nose. Broken twigs pricked her palms as her fingertips dug into the moist soil beneath the rot.

She couldn’t move and there was nothing more she could do to fight. She promised herself she wouldn’t beg.

Roma Campsite, Planet G-45987

Earth Alliance Beta Sector - Gollerra Border

2210.157

Mercury crouched on a sturdy tree limb. He had a good view of the clearing where Sam was making camp. She moved easily—uninjured, healthy, fit and full of life. He didn’t know how long he’d been watching. This new world was nothing like the domed city where he’d been created and trained, and his body had not yet learned its rhythms. Lo and Carn were close by and they would wait as long as necessary.

His ears flicked in concern when Sam’s discussion with the whip-master turned tense.

Even though Mercury had known something would happen, rage burned through him when Drake abandoned her to Resler. The instant Sam’s body broadcast her intent to flee, he exploded off the branch. The jolt of landing battered his body, but that didn’t stop him from launching into a run.

His muscles caught fire as he surged through trees and across the open ground. His surroundings blurred. The scent of Sam, the scent of her terror, filled his head and guided him through the blur.

Then he was there. Sam was trapped face down on the ground. Resler on top of her. Mercury dug his fingers into Resler’s shoulder and thigh. Satisfaction soared when he heard the man whimper and scented the stink of the man’s piss as he wet himself. Mercury chucked him aside, aiming for a large tree—not so near the collision would kill the bastard, but close enough to provide a rewarding smack.