The two men are flat on the ground. Haeden’s lying in a pool of blood, his leather tunic smoking. Aehako is face down and unmoving.
My chest constricts with agony. “Aehako! No!”
The birdlike Little Green Man chirps a question. Are they dead?
The basketball head tilts his head, and as I watch, I see Aehako twitch and lift his elbow, trying to rise up off the ground. There’s no sign of Harlow. I’m relieved. She’s hiding in the ship like I told her to. “Not dead yet,” the guard says and lifts his gun again. “I will fix that.”
“No, wait!” I scream in the alien language. “I’ll go with you. I’ll take you to the others! Just leave them alone!”
The guard lowers his gun and looks over at his master.
An irritated chirp sounds. They don’t matter. Just bring her.
The boot lifts off my hand, and a strong arm hauls me off the ground.
AEHAKO
I fight off unconsciousness as wave after wave of crashing pain moves over me. The intruders moved so fast. I barely saw them raise their strange weapons before Haeden and I were flattened on the ground. I hear Kira’s cry of worry, and her frantic jabber in the strange language.
Then, silence. I try to sit up, but my body won’t obey. It’s like an invisible net has been cast over me. The blackness I’ve fought against so hard claims me.
One thought rings through my mind even as I succumb: they’ve taken my mate.
? ? ?
“Aehako?” A small, cold hand taps my cheek. “Wake up. Please.”
Pain blazes in my side. I’m still face-down in the snow, and my entire body aches as if I’ve drank three skins of sah-sah. With effort, I push against the earth and roll myself onto my back, squinting at the late afternoon sunlight.
A face swims into view. Pale, freckled, with a bright orange-red mane. Not Kira. I struggle to sit up, and her weak human hands try to assist. “Are you okay?” she asks in a tremulous voice.
“I am not dead,” I grit out, though my ribs might complain otherwise. I run a hand down my side and pain stabs through me again. Punctured with one of their strange weapons, but not a fatal wound. It aches and bleeds but will not kill me. “Where is Kira?”
The girl’s eyes fill with tears and she sniffs hard. “Gone. They took her.”
Agony pounds in my chest. No. Not Kira. Not my sad-eyed, soft mate. I’m helpless and filled with rage all at once. “I must save her.”
“Your friend…he’s not doing so well.”
I look around. Off to one side, Haeden’s body is slumped. There’s a dark stain under him that makes my chest clench with new worry. “Is he—“
“He’s breathing, but I can’t get him to wake up, and I can’t carry him.” She wrings her hands. “I don’t know what to do. Kira told me to take you guys back to the cave—”
“She what?” I get to my feet with great effort, sending another wave of sheeting pain through my body.
The red-haired one – Harlow – wrings her hands again and paces. “She said that if they took her, I need to take you back to the cave so you can be safe. She doesn’t want anyone coming after her.”
“She is my mate!” I roar. I won’t leave her. I’ll get my spear, take off after their ship, and demand—
“They have guns!” Harlow cries. “And Haeden is dying!”
Haeden. My old friend. My truest friend. I stagger over to his side, clutching my wound, and roll him onto his back. His breathing rasps shallow in his chest, and the wound is in his gut. I can see the white of his innards in his wound, and there’s blood everywhere.
He needs to get back to the healer, soon, or he will die.
I’m torn. I need to go after my mate, but it’s clear that if I leave, Haeden will die. With a snarl of helpless fury, I turn to Harlow. “Why are you just standing there?”
“I don’t know what to do!”
“Get something to bind his wound! Quickly! Or get poles for a travois!” With a travois, maybe even Harlow can take him back to the caves. I grab her arm before she darts off. “I must go after Kira. Can you take him back to the tribal caves if I make you a travois?”
Her face is pale but resolute. She nods. “Tell me the way and I will do it.”
My heart sinks. She doesn’t know the way to the caves. One slight storm, one wrong turn, and she will drag Haeden into the wild where he will die. I press a hand to my forehead. The stink of blood is everywhere. We must do something soon, or predators will come after it to investigate.