Desert Bound

8: Ryann

8: Ryann

Ryann

Ryann slowed when she saw the dot of light in the distance. She’d been caught out too many times before. Just because Keelin said there was nobody around, that it was safe to have that single light on underneath the craft’s hatch, it didn’t mean it was all plain sailing.

she sussed.

Keelin paused.

Ryann swallowed, felt that dark pit open in her stomach.

That sounded like Deva.

That wouldn’t be a surprise. she sussed, although the words were as much for herself as for Keelin.

That didn’t mean there wasn’t any, though. Keelin could only see what the craft’s sensors showed her, and what she sensed.

But she had her secretive moments, didn’t she? The poor girl still held so much pain.

She clicked her tongue in irritation. If Castor Martell hadn’t set them up, if they’d taken him down as they’d planned, they’d have Fay’s p*****t by now. It wouldn’t be enough to hire a meditech to sort Keelin out‌—‌and Ryann seriously doubted there was anyone around here who could even begin to deal with what the company had done to the girl‌—‌but it would be a start. The hundred thousand Fay had offered for Martell’s capture would have given them a lot of breathing space.

Keelin sussed.

But it was comforting to know that Keelin cared. And it could’ve been far worse. Ryann had been lucky.

But luck ran out sooner or later. She still needed to be wary.

Keelin had the Proteus in a small quarry, with rock walls on two sides. That made sense, as it hid the craft to a degree. But it also gave places for others to hide. True, Keelin was monitoring the area. But it was an obvious rendezvous point. Anyone expecting trouble could already be waiting.

Her uneasiness grew, and she pushed out with her lattice.

She caught the trace as the man stepped around a flake of dark rock, and Ryann recognised him in an instant. He wore a long coat over his tall body, and his trace flared orange with self-confidence. He didn’t have a functioning lattice, but he was still dangerous.

“Not what you were expecting?” Castor Martell said, stepping closer still. He’d slicked his hair back, but his chin was dotted with stubble and his shirt was rumpled.

He held a gun in his hand. Ryann recognised it as a Preben. If he wanted her dead, all he had to do was squeeze the trigger. Even without lattice-lock, there was no way he’d miss from that distance.

Her hands rose of their own accord.

“Very good,” he said. “Finally learning your place. Of course, you should be back in that compound. I’d originally planned a little surprise when they transferred you to the city in the morning, but those degenerates you hang around with forced me to act sooner.”

He circled, stepping away from the Proteus. Ryann followed his movements, but she sensed something in the shadows. When she focused, she caught a familiar trace.

Was this all part of the plan? If it was‌—‌and that was her best hope at the moment‌—‌she needed to play for time.

“Why are you here?”

He laughed. “You need to ask? Fay wants you to take me. I can’t allow that to happen. You’re a stubborn b***h, so there’s only one way to stop you.”

Castor raised his Preben.

“I understand that,” Ryann said, forcing herself to speak slowly, forcing the rising adrenaline to slow. “But how did you know I’d get out?”

“Oh, that. I had my suspicions, paid my usual sources, and read how things played out. More than that, you don’t need to know.”

His smile was smug, and Ryann hated him. But he liked the sound of his own voice, so she had to keep him talking.

She focused, and tracked the trace as it shifted in the shadows.

“And now you’ve found us.” She kept her eyes on Martell. “Found me.”

“You. Yes. You’re an interesting character. I’d be tempted to offer you a position, if you weren’t so honest. And if you didn’t have those kids hanging around.”

“They’re not kids.”

“No? That punk girl’s small enough to be a junior. The sarcastic brat’s got the mind of an adolescent. And the moody one‌…‌well, he’s just a freak.”

“I’m far more than just a freak.”

The voice came from behind Martell, and the man jumped to the side, spinning around.

Brice stepped from the shadows. His eyes blazed with anger. He held his right arm rigid by his side.

It wasn’t his normal stance, and Ryann squinted. But she couldn’t see what he concealed in his hand.

“You’re a freak,” Martell repeated. “But we can put an end to that.”

Ryann saw events in a flicker of freeze-frames that surged across her lenses, the actions of a heartbeat spread out.

Martell raised his Preben, and his finger tightened around the trigger. But Brice skipped to the side and ducked as he lunged forward. He slammed his shoulder into Martell’s chest. The gun clattered onto the rocky ground. Martell fell, Brice on top of him.

Brice swung his right arm, and now Ryann saw the syringe in his grip. He plunged the needle into Martell’s neck. Martell squirmed and buckled, but Brice held him down.

As Brice pressed the plunger, Martell’s eyes widened. His lips quivered, as if he wanted to cry out, but no sound emerged. His limbs jerked once, then again. He shuddered. His eyes shut.

When Martell lay motionless Brice turned to Ryann.

“You want to clean up before taking him to Fay?” he said.