Page 35 of Rebel Fates

“I don’t think we can,” Rok says. “It’s meant to seal up dead,contaminatedbodies.”

Now,Ipanic. I look at the bin with our spare parts for emergency repairs. A long metal bracer sticks out. I grab the beam and swing it at the hard plastic case. The force I use reverberates back through my arms.Frex.

I try again, but it doesn’t break the case.

Gemma has stopped her efforts to break free. Her eyes roll back, and she slumps to the bottom of the coffin.

Zeek disappears, and then, by my fourth swing, he shoves me out of the way. A laser blast shatters the thick plastic where I have weakened it. Shards fly everywhere and pierce her delicate flesh.

There’s barely enough clearance to pull her out, but we do anyway.

Rok curses. “We shouldn’t touch her!”

But I don’t care. We almost lost her. I don’t understand why that bothers me so much.

Why won’t she stop getting into dangerous situations? It’s like she’s made for mayhem.

I throw her unconscious body over my shoulder and rush her into the med bay.

Rok shakes his head at me. “She’s dead.” His voice sounds conflicted. “Has to be.”

“Shut up! Fix her,” Zeek yells, claiming dominance like I’ve never heard him try before.

Since his thoughts echo my own, I don’t admonish him.

She isn’t breathing. I press my ear to her chest to hear if she has a heartbeat. There’s nothing.

“Back away,” Rok orders as he clicks away on his med tablet.

Suddenly, her body arches with a jolt of electricity.

No change.

Again her tiny body is taunt with an electric charge. And then…

She gasps for air.

Now that hers is beating, my own heart feels like it can again.

Why does the thought of losing her scare me so much?

Coughing, her gaze wanders around the room, not focusing on anything.

“Gemma,” I call to her.

She stares at me for a long moment and then mumbles apologetically, “I left the room.”

“I noticed,” I say gently and smile. I don’t know why I’m feeling so forgiving when she challenges my every order. But I realize I would try to escape if I was in her situation. She doesn’t trust us, and we’ve given her no reason to.

If I could help her escape, I would. Because we will be a threat to her in another day or so. And I still haven’t figured out how to fix it.

“What were you thinking? Were youtryingto kill yourself?” Zeek admonishes. He reaches out to touch her hand.

Rok growls at him not to make contact, but he does it anyway.

“No,” she says with irritation. “I thought it was an escape pod.” Her voice is fragile and rough.

I don’t know how many near-death experiences her body can handle.

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