“He going to be okay?” Brice asked.
Ryann nodded, even though she wasn’t sure. He’d live, if becoming one of those things could be called living.
“Not Osker, though.” There was an edge of anger in Brice’s voice—not the petty rivalry she was used to, but something more deep-seated. She turned to face him, automatically clearing up the detritus of her medical administrations as she did so. Brice didn’t meet her gaze, but looked to the corner, where Osker lay in his body-bag.
“That couldn’t be helped,” she said. “There were too many creatures. You know that.”
“But he didn’t deserve to die. He was just doing his job.” Brice spoke quietly, through clenched teeth. “He was only doing what he was told to do.”
“That’s all any of us do,” Ryann said, although she didn’t really believe that now. It was only what they did when they were too weak to think for themselves.
Brice huffed. “Sure. We do what the company tell us to. And look where it gets us.” His mouth opened, as if he had more to say, but the words never came.
Ryann nodded, and it shocked her to realise she shared his bitterness.
The company had never been perfect. It was too big for that, and there would always be issues. There would always be paper-pushers who didn’t understand, who cut corners to boost profits.
But since that conversation with Arela, hidden resentments had risen within Ryann, grasping hold of new facts. Where before she felt annoyance, now she loathed the company.
She looked to the remains of the creature, to what Kaiahive—and how she hated that name now—had created and then abandoned. And she wondered what would happen to those the beasts had infected. Would the company abandon Cathal and Nyle too?
She no longer wanted to work for such monsters.
Brice stood, and walked towards the creature. “We want to get rid of this thing?” He kicked it, his boot squelching into its body, and that made Ryann feel nauseous. “Open the hatch, chuck it out? Might clear the air a bit.”
She could understand his anger. She knew how he was channelling all his hatred onto those remains. The creatures had killed Osker. They had taken Tris, and left Cathal and Nyle in a state of limbo. They had put Brice through hell.
But it had been a person. Once, it had been just like them. She couldn’t hate it because of what others had done.
“No,” she said softly, and he turned to her in surprise. She thought fast. “We need to understand them. We need to learn whatever we can.” But she didn’t add that the creature was as much a victim as they were, and it deserved their respect.
Brice’s fists clenched and unclenched, and his chest rose as he took a deep breath. Then he stepped away, holding his injured arm close to his body. She’d have to see to that soon.
“This isn’t over, is it?” he said, his eyes still on the remains of the creature.
She shook her head. This was only just the start.
But for now, their night was over. They had a reprieve, and a chance to finally rest.
Ryann closed her eyes for a second. When she opened them, the cabin was flooded with a soft, beautiful yellow glow.
She looked through to the cabin. Keelin had turned in her seat, a grin on her face.
“We have power,” she said. And Ryann had to swallow to stop the tears from falling.
“The Proteus still on auto?”
Keelin shook her head. “I’ve taken control. Feels a bit strange, but it’s good to be flying again. You want me to set a course?”
Ryann did. A part of her wanted to tell Keelin to turn the craft around and head out of the basin, over the rim, and as far from this mess as possible. But she knew where they needed to go.
“Haven,” she said. Even though that meant returning to Kaiahive, it also meant returning to Arela, and the other crews, and everything that was good about the place. “Take us home.”
The creature watched from the high branches. As the craft retreated into the sky, and that burning light fled, it emerged, focusing on the aftermath.
It sensed the burning from below, and knew what blood remained in its fallen brethren would be rank now, and that there was no reason to feast on the fallen. Others would be, it knew, but there would always be the scavengers and the desperate.
It sniffed, drawing in the scent of the ones that had got away. Two had been infected, and that was good. But they had been taken, and in a craft. That meant they travelled far.
It reached out, and the trail of the craft hung in the air, despite the downpour. It turned, facing the way the craft had gone.
The infected, and the others, had run because they were frightened. But they had been organised. They had managed to exploit a weakness, and so they were not unintelligent. And that meant they were not running blind. They would be seeking safety.
It called out, reaching for its brethren, and many responded. Not all, but that was no problem. There would always be stragglers. They would understand in time.
It jumped from the branch and landed on the soft ground, in the midst of its brethren. It stretched upright, uttered a rallying cry and pulled in more attention.
The craft could be followed, and the brethren were strong. They could feed on the forest beasts if required, or take sustenance from their weaker kin. But they could track their quarry.
The quarry ran to safety. There was safety in numbers.
And that meant more opportunities to feed.
What next?
Thank you for spending your precious time in reading this book. I hope it’s been a fun ride.
If you’ve enjoyed it, and want to read more in the Shadows series, I have an exclusive novella available. See below for details.
I’d love to know what you thought of Shadowfall. The most direct way
