“Kids is right. Don’t know why they act like that.”
“You don’t?” Maybe this was the distraction Keelin needed.
Keelin shrugged. “Jockeying for position. Some kind of macho crap. Although that’s a bit of a throwback, isn’t it? Thought we were supposed to have evolved past that.”
“Evolution is survival of the fittest. There will always be competition. Everyone wants to be top dog.”
“Not me.”
“You want to be the best pilot, don’t you?”
“Suppose. But that’s different. I don’t put others down like they do. I don’t start fighting just to prove a point.”
“No? How often do you take breaks when you’re tired?”
“I take breaks!”
“But only when…only when someone reminds you to. Admit it—you’re a good pilot, and you want others to know it.”
Keelin looked away and shrugged. That was answer enough.
“But it’s natural,” Ryann continued, knowing she needed to keep this positive. “Don’t let it bother you. Just watch out that it doesn’t cause problems.”
“What about you? Can’t see you being that petty, Ryann. You’re always looking out for us, like a…like we’re important to you.”
Ryann filled in the word Keelin had avoided, and it hurt. Did the girl see Ryann as a mother-figure? Did that make Cathal a father-figure? Yes, that made sense, but Ryann wasn’t old enough…she wasn’t ready…she wasn’t a mother. She held a more senior position, but she was still just another crew member.
But she pushed her annoyance to one side. “That’s because you are important to me. This crew’s family. And I want it to be the best in Haven.”
“We are.”
“Of course.”
Only we’re not in Haven, Ryann thought. We’re trapped in the forest, and our commander is turning into some kind of monster. Two of us are walking through the trees, protected by a few torches against creatures that can kill warths, and two of us are talking girl-talk because we’re not able to do anything else. And in a few hours time, we could all be dead. Or worse.
“You sense Tris or Brice at all?” Keelin asked.
Ryann shook her head. She’d kept her connection to the relay open, but so far hadn’t got a single ping.
“How long before they get that relay set up?”
“Should be there about now.”
As if on cue, a voice reached into her head.
<Ryann, you hearing me?>
Keelin grinned, and Ryann felt the relief wash over her. Or maybe that was Ryann’s own relief.
<I hear you, Tris. Take it the relay’s in place?>
<All set. Looks like a bloody beacon with the torches, too. Probably easy to see when the Proteus comes for us.>
<Probably. But don’t jump the gun. This thing reach Haven?>
<Pretty sure. Give it a go.>
Ryann sent a protocol message. <Haven, this is Ryann Harris, second to Cathal Lasko. Are you receiving?>
There was nothing for a moment, then a voice flowed into her mind. <Receiving. Expected you back hours ago, Harris.>
Ryann shook. She exhaled, unaware until now that she’d been holding her breath. She wanted to cry. She wanted to hug Keelin.
But she took a breath and calmed the adrenaline racing through her system. <Had a few problems. We could do with a hand.>
<Okay. You got a report ready?>
<Sending it now.>
Of course she had a report ready. All the thoughts, all the data—everything had been building in Ryann’s storage, and she’d returned to it almost as a comfort, pulling phrases out to create a summary. Until this point, she hadn’t even realised she was compiling a report. It was simply something she did.
<You got it?> she sussed as she pushed it through. Ryann wanted to use the man’s name, but that was not protocol. She was contacting Haven, not Quin Barberis. He could use her name—second name only, though—but for this communication, he was simply ‘Haven’.
<Got it. Scanning. Lasko’s injured? Sorry, can’t make out how serious this is. You say he’s stable?>
<Stable, yes. But serious. He needs more than I can give him.>
<Understood. I’ve logged your position. Take it you want us to go for you, not your Proteus?>
<Correct.> Ryann wouldn’t allow herself to become frustrated by these questions. They were protocol. They ensured clear communication.
<And there’s something else out there? Haven’t…that’s not linking to anything on our systems. You sure about this?>
<Definitely.> She felt the need to elaborate. <New creature, extremely dangerous.>
<And, what, they’re repelled by light?>
<Just sol setting. At least, as far as we can figure out. That’s why any rescue craft need to come in with their arcs burning with sol. For their own protection as much as ours.>
<Understood.> But Ryann picked up on the pause, and knew Quin would be wondering about the validity of the data, or even of her own sanity. <Passing this on.> Again, that was protocol. The report, and request for assistance, were now in the system, and there would be others deciding what course of action to take.
<Just sit tight, Ryann. We’ll get you back home.>
The slip from protocol shocked her, and she didn’t know if it was good or bad.
<Thanks,> she sussed. And realised she was still shaking.
Brice stared up at the tree. “We go over it?” he asked, even though he knew that wasn’t an option. Even if they could cut through with their knives, the creatures waited inside.
“What do you think?” Tris snapped back.
“There another way round?”
“I’m checking. Stop asking stupid questions.”
Brice held his hands up in surrender and stepped back a pace, then played his torches over the trees. Shadows shifted all around, and up high branches moved through more than the wind. All it would take was a handful of the creatures to drop, and Brice and Tris would be done for. Even if the first ones burnt up, the ones behind would have some shelter from the light. Enough to take a few swipes with their claws. And that was all it would take.
They should have walked faster. If Tris had picked up the pace and trusted his feet, they could have cleared this path before the tree fell. If he hadn’t wanted to check everything so many times, they’d probably
