Page 57 of Human Reclaimed
I tried to speak, to tell her about the message I’d recorded on her datapad of the words I’d never found the courage to say to her face. That I loved her.
But darkness claimed me before I could form the words. My last conscious thought was a prayer that she would find the recording if I didn’t survive to tell her myself.
TWENTY-FIVE
TALIA
Rune’s muscles spasmed, his limbs twitching beyond his control in the small interrogation room on the pirate ship. My heart lurched into my throat as his blue eyes—usually so focused and intense—started rolling back in his head.
“Rune!” I screamed, barely recognizing my own voice as I held him against my chest. I kicked Delia’s lifeless body aside with my boot, the blood from her head wound spreading across the metal floor.
His lips parted as if to speak, raw emotion flashing across his face for a moment before his eyes fluttered shut.
“No, no, no,” I whispered, pressing my fingers to his neck. His pulse thumped beneath my fingertips—erratic but present. I slapped his face gently. “Wake up, Commander! That’s an order!”
Nothing. Panic clawed its way up my chest, constricting my lungs. The ship’s warning lights bathed us in pulsing crimson as the emergency systems activated, responding to the captain’s death.
“Think, Talia,” I muttered, hooking my hands under Rune’s armpits. I pulled—and nearly dislocated my shoulders. “God, you’re heavy.”
The flashback hit me like a physical force. Travis’s blood soaking into the mountain snow, his eyes growing distant as I dragged him behind cover, begging him to hold on. “Not too much farther,” I’d promised him, the lie bitter on my tongue.
I blinked back tears, forcing myself back to the present. This wouldn’t end the same way. I wouldn’t let it.
“Come on,” I growled, finding a better grip and throwing all my weight backward. Rune’s body moved a few inches across the floor. “You don’t get to save me and then check out, you stubborn man.”
I dragged him down the corridor, sweat pouring down my face and my muscles screaming in protest. Every few feet I stopped to check his pulse, terror gripping me each time I reached for his neck.
“I did not survive being kidnapped by pirates just to watch you die,” I told his unconscious form as I maneuvered us down the exit ramp.
The jungle’s humid air hit me like a wall as I finally pulled Rune’s body outside. The massive trees loomed overhead, filtering the afternoon sunlight into patterns that danced across his unnaturally pale face.
I reached for his communicator, tapping frantically at the controls. “Damn it!” The device remained silent, its display dark. Whatever virus they’d injected must have fried his systems.
Grabbing him under the arms again, I began the agonizing process of dragging him through the dense underbrush. Thorny vines dug at my pants, and stones crunched under my boots.
“Remember… when you first showed me your oasis?” I panted, talking to keep the panic at bay. “You said… you’d never shown anyone else. That was the moment… I knew… I was in trouble with you.”
A branch snapped somewhere to my left. I dropped Rune and spun, raising Rune’s blaster with both hands.
“Captain Reed!” a familiar deep voice called out.
I nearly collapsed with relief as Aeon emerged from the foliage, his towering figure moving with surprising grace through the dense vegetation. His medical kit was strapped to his back, and his eyes widened at the sight of Rune.
“Thank god,” I breathed.
“Tegan informed me of Commander Rune’s foolhardy rescue mission,” Aeon said, already kneeling beside Rune and checking vital signs with clinical efficiency. “What happened?”
“He took down the four pirates on the ship single-handed,” I explained, my words tumbling out in a rush. “He caught Delia by the throat, but she jabbed him with some kind of needle. The virus tag, I think. I shot her, but not before…” My voice broke.
Aeon nodded grimly, lifting Rune’s eyelids to check his pupils. “His autonomic responses are degrading rapidly.” Without another word, he scooped Rune into his arms as easily as if he were carrying a child.
“Is he going to die?” The question tore from my throat, raw and desperate.
“Not if I have anything to say about it.” Aeon began moving through the jungle at a pace I struggled to match. “Olivia is working on an antidote. We have something promising that might save all those affected, but…”
“But what?” I demanded, clambering over a fallen log.
Aeon’s expression remained carefully neutral. “We don’t know how long the amnesia will last or if there will be lasting effects on their memory coding or emotional development.”
