Page 40 of Hidden By the Convicts
Bowen sent the harvester on its way. “So much for making quota this month. I’ve had it running practically round the clock, but it’s still not enough.”
That explained why Bowen hadn’t been to the house in three days, except to shower and sleep at night. Harlis debated telling Bowen what he knew. The man was his unit leader. He deserved to know, especially if it saved him from ending up in the hole again.
“Try the other harvesters. Three and four.”
Bowen raised a brow, then opened the panel to number three and entered his code. The harvester roared to life.
“What the fuck?” Excited, Bowen moved to harvester number four and repeated the sequence. Number four purred.
Bowen spun around. “Did you fix them, Harlis?”
“Me? Hell, no. Never touched an engine in my life. I prefer a clean lab with acids that can eat through metal, thank you very much.”
“You’re a strange one, Harlis. Fine, then, I’ll play. Who fixed them?”
“You’re not going to like the answer. I want your promise that you won’t lose your temper.” Bowen had a temper more than Gavin and Harlis put together, but the man could be reined in with a promise.
Usually.
“No promises. Spill. Now,” he growled.
“Our, ah, houseguest.”
In two large strides, Bowen was in Harlis’s face. “You brought her here? Do you know the danger, the risk?”
“I didn’t bring her. She’s been sneaking out ever since you returned from the hole. After we’re all asleep. The first time I followed her, I was about to ask her to return with me, but once she started working on the harvesters, Bowen, I didn’t want to stop her.”
“You should have.”
“You won’t make quota without working harvesters. You need them.”
“Forget about my fucking quota! If anything happens to—” Bowen looked around and lowered his voice. “We’ll talk about this later. All of us.”
“I stood guard. I wouldn’t let anything happen to her.”
“We’ll discuss this later. I have fields to harvest, and just enough time to make my quota.”
As Harlis trudged up the hill, he mulled over his actions of the past few nights. He’d been right to let Teagen fix the harvesters, despite the risk. Bowen might not survive another stint in the hole. He’d calm down and see the necessity, eventually. He had to.
Once Harlis entered the compound, he took a sharp left to his lab, a drab, one-story building. As he put his hand against the access plate, a hand yanked him backward and slammed him face first against the side of the building.
“What the f—”
“Watch your mouth with me. And tell me where the girl is.” Mozely shoved Harlis’s arm high up behind him, sending searing pain into his shoulder and arm.
“You still looking for her? I heard the guards found her dead in the jungle. Kuvak meat.”
“Just her dress. Not her. She’s hiding here, and you know where.”
Harlis struggled against Mozely’s hold, but couldn’t move. “I have no fucking idea where she is, but I wish I did. Then I could get some action.”
Mozely spun him around and slammed him back against the building, before lodging his forearm against Harlis’s throat, threatening to cut off his air.
“Tell me where she is, or I’ll send you—”
“Where? To West Side? Go ahead. With the number of prisoners over there, I can make a killing selling Flight. Not enough people on East Side to make it worth producing. Not to mention there’s not much to trade over here. The good stuff’s in West Side.”
Mozely released him. “Fucking druggie. Get out of here.”
