Page 55 of Healing Creek
Grace blinked. She pulled herself into a sitting position, swinging her feet off the bed. The bed. Where was she? The room was unfamiliar. The walls were close, some primitive art hung on them. The man…she could tell it was a man now…knelt by her feet. He lifted her foot and pushed on one of her boots, then the other. Her ankles were still wrapped so he had to push hard to get them on.
“You’re in danger here. We have to get you out while we still can.” As he spoke, the medic’s features came together in her foggy mind. He grabbed one of her arms and pulled it across his shoulder, bringing her to her feet in the process.
“Zachary?”
“Quickly,” he urged.
The room was mostly dark. Only a narrow shaft of light came in from the partially open door. Looking into the light made her blink, but she continued forward at his urging. She was leaning heavily on him, still weak and disoriented. Still? From what?
“Stay quiet now.” He pulled the door open farther, blinding her momentarily.
The moment they stepped into the hall, she recognized the base—Haven. But why were they sneaking away and to where?
“Creek?” What had happened. Was he even alive? Why couldn’t she remember?
“He’s waiting for us. Come on,” he whispered again.
Creek was waiting. That meant he was okay. She hurried her steps. As she became steadier on her feet, Zachary released her arm from around his shoulder and took her hand instead. He dragged her along, pulling her down flights of stairs that seemed to go on endlessly.
Her feet felt too heavy. She tripped, but he caught her. That was kind of him. He was helping her. But why? Why were they in such a hurry.
“Zachary,” she tried again.
“Shh, this way.” He pulled her toward a door, punched a code on a keypad, then they were through. They were in a dark corridor, illuminated only by softly glowing lights at their feet. It seemed just wide enough for two with a ceiling not far above their heads. The walls were bare stone. The pathway went on endlessly and turned too often for her to keep her bearings.
She couldn’t think clearly. Her head had begun to pound at her temples.
“Where…are we going?” The first word was loud in the closeness, and she remembered to whisper after that.
“It’s not far now. Almost there.”
The medic wasn’t whispering anymore, so they must be safer now that they had entered this dark labyrinth. A sturdy alloy door appeared before them, materializing out of the gloom. The medic flipped several latches, then leaned on the door, pushing as if it weighed a ton.
All at once, the door gave way and light poured in. Golden, green, dappled light. It was everywhere, filtering through the leaves and branches and trees. She stepped out into the jungle and something tangled around her boot. A vine. She was falling. The ground came up to meet her and pain radiated through her spine. From her seat on the jungle floor, she looked around and saw only Zachary. She looked up into his frustrated face.
“We’re not meeting Creek, are we?”
Zachary tried to convince Grace that they were still on their way to Creek. She followed him into the jungle mostly because she wanted to believe it. That and because the door had shut behind them and there was no way to open it from the outside.
They followed a narrow path that turned sharply and opened into a small clearing in the dense vegetation. A terrain basher sat in the scattered sunlight. She recognized the two-seater ground transport, known for its climbing ability, from a remote research outpost she’d visited with her father when she was a teenager. She’d hoped it would be exciting, but her father had stuck to well established trails…boring. She looked around and saw no such trails here. Just a narrow strip of crushed underbrush leading down from above. Funny how bashing through the jungle along the steep ravine walls didn’t sound exciting at all now.
Zachary opened the back storage and Grace spotted a travel bag strapped into the compartment. He pulled another small bag from his shoulder and worked it under the straps. The growing knot in Grace’s stomach worsened as he slammed it shut. Birds startled out of the trees at the noise. She looked up through the small break in the overhead canopy and realized they had to be far down in the ravine. She couldn’t think of any good reason except—If there was an attack, would they be the only ones leaving? Hadn’t Eve and Max told them the base was designed so they could escape into the jungle.
“Was the base attacked?”
“What? No.” Zachary replied absently, his mind clearly on prepping the basher for their trip.
She looked up again, trying to gauge how far down the ravine they were, but the world spun. She must still be lightheaded from donating so much blood to heal Creek.
Zachary had the door to the basher open and something in his hand. “Come on, Grace. Time to go.”
Was her vision blurry. Why couldn’t she see clearly what was in his hand?
“Where are we meeting Creek?”
“At the ship,” he said.
“What ship?”
