Page 7 of Risking Her Heart

“Yes,” the Zmaj at the front says.

I should have learned who they were too. I’ve been self-absorbed in my own little world, ignoring everything else. The Zmaj have been fine, but also peripheral to me. I’ve spent my days doing the tasks assigned without giving much thought to anything else. How could I?

Anytime I tried to think about the future it seemed so bleak and empty that it made me not want to get out of bed. I tried staying in bed a couple of times but that won’t fly with any of my fellow survivors. We all have to pull our weight.

It’s been long enough now since the crash that life has become routine. Sleep, eat, work, and hang out sometimes with a group. Sometimes I’d hook up but nothing that mattered. The hookups I’ve had have all been out of lustful need with no more meaningful connection than that for either of us. A bit of distraction that lasts as long as it takes for one or both of us to get off then awkwardly part ways, usually with as little eye contact as possible.

That’s probably been me more than them. I know a couple of guys tried to hang out after, but I did all I could to push them out of my room. No commitment because that would require looking ahead and that’s not something I’m willing to do.

Darting a glance at him though… there is a glimmer. A glimmer of hope, of something more to come or… I don’t know.

“How are we supposed to do that?” Dan says loudly.

I realize I’ve lost track of the conversation going on between him and the Zmaj. Lost in my own thoughts again which is not unusual. Navel gazing my dad would call it. What’re you doing,Kat? Navel gazing? It was his gentle way of pulling me out of my head and getting me to look at the world around us.

That’s why my job was good for me too. It made me get outside and forced me to look. Can’t clean up an area if you’re not looking at it. I was happy doing that work. The work since the crash is not just work though. This is survival. There are no frivolous activities because there’s no time for them. The Zmaj have made things easier because they’ve been hunting for us and helping with a lot of the bigger problems but that didn’t put an end to the daily struggle.

“We will send scouts,” the Zmaj who seems to be the leader says. “Find the place, then figure out how.”

“Find a place? Where? There’s nothing but sand for kilometers!” Dan is throwing his hands around but now Nyanna walks over and places a hand on his arm.

“Dan,” Nyanna says. “We don’t have a choice.”

She has a calming influence. He drops his arms and the brightness of the shade of red on his skin tones down a couple of notches. He shakes his head slowly and as he does it looks like he is deflating. Somehow taking up less space in the room than he did a moment before.

“We’re only now getting to a semblance of normal,” Dan says, speaking softly.

So much so that for a moment I’m not sure I heard him right. Only when Nyanna pulls him into a hug do I know I did. And he’s not wrong. It’s taken a long time to establish routines and daily activities that not only everyone agrees with, but that work for the entire group.

They don’t hug for long. It’s a quiet, intimate moment, long enough for me to feel like I’m an intruder. I look away at the only thing of any interest in the room, Zas’tu. He’s also turned inwards so we’re facing one another. He has both my hands in his, which I don’t remember happening. We stare into one another’s eyes.

Kiss him.

The thought and the urge hit so fast and so unexpectedly that I’m rising onto my toes without planning it. Intent on pressing my lips onto his. Curious to know what his taste like. I like kissing, but most guys are terrible at it.

I hope he’s a good one. If not, maybe I can teach him?

That’s a new thought that I’ve never bothered trying before. Whether that was laziness or a general lack of interest in the guy I’m not sure. I prefer to think it’s the latter, but I also know myself well enough to know I can be lazy.

“Zas’tu!”

Zas’tu whips away so fast it makes my head spin. He turns on his heel and straightens to stiff attention, staring straight ahead at the front. There is a military precision to the motion and stance. It’s the only way I can describe it. I saw the pilots and other military members more than enough times to recognize the signs. They used to march in the mornings through the gardens when I was working.

There is a rapid-fire exchange in the Zmaj language between Zas’tu and the other one. I can’t understand the words, but it feels tense as if it is getting more heated the longer it goes. Zas’tu is shaking his head and almost growling. Finally, he points at me.

I’m rocked back onto my heels even though I don’t know what is being said. I look from him to Nyanna. I feel how wide my eyes are while my stomach does acrobatic flips. Zas’tu turns to face me, maintaining the military-style crisp precision.

“Yes?” he asks.

“Yes?” I query, hating the way my voice quavers even on a single syllable.

“Come, you?” he asks.

“Come? Come where?”

Fear explodes from somewhere in the center of my head. Ice- water rushes through my veins, chilling my limbs. I shake my head, not in denial, but in confusion. I shrug, raise my hands, drop them, sputter as I try to find more words, and finally snap my mouth shut.

“Scout, with me,” Zas’tu says.

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