Releases June 29th, 2017
Romy strained for any hint of disturbance, but an eerie calm filled the space.
The electrodes and wires covering her arms and legs suddenly felt like restraints—a barrier preventing her from leaping from the bed and protecting herself. She closed her eyes and attempted to regulate her breathing.
Everything was fine.
There was nothing to—
The space station rocked as a muted explosion emanated from the clinic door. Her stomach dropped, and she nearly sat up before remembering Electrode Slapper’s withering order to stay still.
Romy held herself immobile, eyes darting side to side, senses stretched to maximum capacity.
Was that smoke creeping along the ceiling? Not the normal smoke from her burning hair—real smoke!
Nothing good could come from a fire onboard a space station.
Unable to deny fear’s curiosity, she turned to stare at the remaining male doctor, awaiting his order to evacuate. His attention was fixed on the door, the whites of his eyes showing his terror—of something. Romy watched as he scrambled from his seat, hands raised, stammering and babbling senselessly.
Not terror of something. Someone.
Romy inhaled sharply as a dart appeared out of nowhere, sticking deep into the side of his neck. The doctor staggered and slowly keeled over next to the bed, sending a screen smashing to the ground.
She jerked violently as his body rebounded off the floor before settling into unconsciousness.
The medi-tech surrounding her beeped, high-pitched and urgent, snatching up her distress and sounding it out for all the world to hear.
So much for playing dead.
She took stock. At least five electrodes and their wires hung off each limb. Another ten on her torso and five more on her head. Extracting herself in a hurry wasn’t looking like an option.
Heavy footsteps approached the bed where she lay, frozen. Mind racing. Several sets of footsteps, she realised—maybe ten.
Romy swallowed, palms sweating where they touched her bare thighs.
A large shadow fell across her body.
Dread settled heavy in her bones.
A man dressed in solid black leaned over the bed, blotting her view of the white ceiling. A soldier. Unlike any she’d seen. Why wasn’t he dressed in white?
The man’s face was clean-shaven and as his scent reached her, she got the oddest sense of another time. Of warmth and. . . .
She blinked into his soft grey eyes.
With careful movements, the man moved the gun he carried so it slung across his back. The weapon was small, sleek—the complete opposite of the huge laser guns fitted on the space station.
Who was this person?
He reached for her, expression impassive, a slight tremor in his hands.
And spoke a single, hoarse word.
“Romy.”
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