Page 31 of Shattered Silence

Even the Tharian was silent.

Certain that he was alone now, Enki lengthened his strides, passing through a narrow side-corridor that cut through the living quarters and branched left.

A shortcut to the medical bay.

Voices drifted to him from down the corridor, accompanied by the sound of boots on the hard floor—running.

“What’s that madman done now?”

“No idea, Sir. He ordered us to come. Sounded a bit strange, though, carrying on about filthy humans and something about species not knowing their place, and—”

“You think he’s accidentally killed the specimen again?” The question was accompanied with an aggravated sigh.

“Maybe. I don’t know. Nobody ever knows anything with that crazy bastard. He’s been like this ever since the traitor prince shot him. Messed up body, messed up head. I can’t wait until we rotate out of this fucking med-bay duty. Why can’t the bastard just use fucking assistants like everyone else?”

“Remember, Slanosh, his work is necessary, and you know why.” The speaker’s voice was tinged with irony. “Now shut the fuck up and get inside, and if he’s going nuts again, we just have to restrain him.”

“That Kaiin-cursed arm of his is a pain in the ass…”

“Move, Slanosh, before I cut you.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Following the sound of their voices, Enki dropped all pretense and ran.

Chapter Eleven

Layla hugged her knees and tried her best to stop her teeth from chattering. In the aftermath of such brutal, visceral violence, her body had dumped all of its adrenaline, and now she was running on nothing but her wavering willpower.

At least those horrible scratches had stopped bleeding, but now they stung like crazy, and the wounds that were in contact with her shredded cryo-suit had started to burn.

Her entire body was on fire, but she was so, so cold.

And the floor was coated in sticky, drying blood, making her want to retch.

Layla had dragged herself around the scientist’s dead body, retreating back into the sanitation chamber, where the pitch darkness gave her hollow comfort. She couldn’t see in the dark, but a Kordolian could. It wasn’t ideal, but it was the only hiding place she could find at such short notice.

This was the pits. The absolute fucking pits.

If they caught her now… Layla didn’t have much left in the tank, but least she had her knife back. As she’d dropped to a crouching position, trying with all her might to keep fucking still, her fingers had brushed against it. She clutched the small blade tightly, seeking small comfort in the fact that she wasn’t completely defenseless. Even if it had been a total fluke, she’d just killed a Kordolian.

Might as well go down fighting.

Her hatred for these cruel aliens ran deep, giving her the strength to keep going.

Taking a deep breath, Layla tried to center herself, going through the ritual she used to follow before every filming session.

Empty your mind.

Take the deepest breath you can and then exhale, focusing on the movement of your chest and belly. Concentrate on your surroundings; the sounds, the smells, the sensations.

But the only thing she could smell was her own coppery blood, mingled with bitterness. She felt the hard hilt of the blade in her right hand, felt the stickiness under her bare feet, felt pain across her skin and in her ankle. It spearing through her ribs too, waxing and waning with each breath.

She heard…

Voices.

Becoming louder.

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