Page 4 of Bound to the Bounty Hunter

I positioned the leaves beside him, creating a makeshift stretcher. Now came the hard part.

Taking a deep breath, I braced myself and began to roll him onto the leaves. His body was impossibly heavy, dense muscle making the task nearly impossible. I grunted with effort, my arms shaking as I strained against his weight.

“Come on,” I muttered through gritted teeth. “Just... a little... more...”

With one final heave, I managed to get him fully onto the stretcher. I collapsed beside him, gasping for air. My heart was thudding in my ears, and I wondered if I’d made a terrible mistake.

But there was no turning back now.

I grabbed the edges of the leaves and began to pull. The Vinduthi’s unconscious form slid across the jungle floor with agonizing slowness. Every few feet, I had to stop and catch my breath, my muscles screaming in protest.

At last, the dark mouth of the small cave I’d discovered weeks ago came into view. With the last of my strength, I dragged the Vinduthi inside, collapsing against the cool stone wall.

Once I caught my breath, I set to work. I rummaged through my pack, pulling out various plant samples I’d collected. With practiced hands, I began crushing leaves and mixing them into improvised poultices.

“Acanthostaphylus kervantii for the inflammation,” I murmured, applying a greenish paste to the worst of his wounds. “And a touch of Helianthemum nocturnum to counteract the neurotoxin.”

As I worked, I studied the Vinduthi up close. His gray skin was surprisingly smooth, marred only by the swirling blackmarkings that decorated one side of his body. The row of small horns along his temples gleamed dully in the filtered sunlight.

I shook my head, forcing myself back to reality. This was no time to get distracted by alien physiology, no matter how fascinating.

Hours passed as I tended to his injuries. The Vinduthi stirred occasionally, and each time I tensed, ready to bolt if he woke up violently. But he remained unconscious, his breathing growing steadier as my treatments took effect.

Just as I was applying the last of my improvised medicine, the Vinduthi’s eyes snapped open. In an instant, he had me pinned against the cave wall, his hand at my throat. I struggled to breathe, terror coursing through me.

“Who are you?” he growled, his face inches from mine. “Why were you treating my wounds?”

My throat tightened, and I swallowed against the sudden dryness, trying to keep my voice from shaking. “I found you unconscious and injured. I couldn’t just leave you to die.”

His grip loosened slightly, but he didn’t release me. His red eyes bored into mine, searching for any hint of deception, before taking in my stained lab coat and utterly unsuitable shirt and pants I wore beneath. His expression shifted, a flicker of curiosity crossing his features. “Why would a human help a Vinduthi?”

“Because it was the right thing to do,” I said, lifting my chin defiantly. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d appreciate it if you stopped choking me.”

To my surprise, he let go and stepped back. I rubbed my throat, eyeing him warily.

“You’re either very brave or very foolish, little human,” he said, his tone unreadable.

“I’ve been called worse,” I replied dryly. “How are you feeling? The toxin should be mostly neutralized by now.”

He flexed his arm, examining the wound, then staggered. “Better than I should, given the circumstances. Your skills are... impressive.”

“Thank you,” I said, relaxing slightly. “I don’t suppose you’d care to explain what a Vinduthi is doing on Kervant-9? This isn’t exactly a popular tourist destination. At least tell me your name.”

He remained silent for a long moment, clearly debating how much to reveal. Finally, he spoke. “Call me Arkon. I’m... looking for someone. A human scientist.”

“Who?”

“Dr. Samira Radu,” he said, his intense gaze fixed on me. “But I have a feeling I’ve already found her.”

ARKON

Pain lanced through me and I collapsed to my knees, each movement a battle against my own body. This wasn’t right. Vinduthi healing should have kicked in by now.

Samira’s eyes narrowed as she watched my struggle. “Your wounds aren’t healing as they should,” she observed, her tone a mix of scientific curiosity and genuine concern.

“New weapon,” I growled, the admission tasting bitter on my tongue. “Completely new to me. Seems designed to counteract Vinduthi regeneration.”

Her hands stilled, the half-crushed leaves forgotten as she processed this information. “That’s... concerning,” she said slowly, her gaze meeting mine. “Do you have any idea who might have developed such a thing?”

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