Page 33 of Hunted By the Wraiths
Maris’s subordinate had trained them well.
The door burst open. Two mercs came through, weapons raised.
I moved.
The bond let me anticipate Maris’s position without looking. Let me know exactly where she was, where she’d be in the next second.
I put myself between her and the door.
The first merc fired. I dodged left. The plasma bolt hit the wall behind me. I closed the distance, disarmed him, used his body as a shield when the second merc fired.
The shot hit the first merc in the chest. He dropped.
I threw him at the second merc. They both went down. I stomped on the second merc’s weapon hand. Bones crunched.
My side wound tore completely. Blood ran hot down my hip. The pain hit nine.
Still functional.
“Done,” Maris said.
She held up the data chip. All three caches. Complete.
The alarm screamed.
Of course.
More hostiles poured through the door. I counted six. Too many in my current condition.
Maris pulled me toward the glass wall. “Emergency exit.”
“How far down?”
“Very.”
She hit the release. The glass panel blew out. Wind howled in.
We jumped.
The fall was long. Dark. Cold.
We hit water. I sank, disoriented. The temperature shock locked my scales. My wounds screamed. Blood clouded the water around me.
Strong arms grabbed me. Maris. Pulling me up.
We surfaced. I coughed. Tasted blood and chemicals.
“Swim,” she said.
I swam. Sort of. She did most of the work, dragging us both to a maintenance platform.
We collapsed on the metal grating. Above us, lights flashed at the broken window. Voices shouted.
But they’d lost us.
Maris stood. Helped me up. “The hangar’s this way.”
The tunnel was dark. Narrow. The walls were rough-hewn rock, slick with condensation.
