The Space Colonel's Woman (Dragonus Chronicles Book 1) Page 17

  “Understood.”

  Julia focused her attention back to applying fresh pressure pads on top of the sodden ones. Beneath the layer of grey dust coating every inch Mark was pale from blood loss. They had to hurry.

  “Where do you need us?” A Marine asked, making her jump.

  Julia pointed to the spike anchoring their commanding officer to the ground. “Here.”

  “Oh.” The hulking guy with light blue eyes, breathed on a gasp and Julia wondered if he was going to contaminate the field more than it already was by puking up his lunch everywhere.

  “This’d be why we need the hacksaw.” She snapped, tone harsher than she’d meant it to be. “We have to get him on a back board to immobilize any spine injuries before you start sawing.”

  Zeb helped her slide the board as far under Mark as the spike would allow. Then collared and strapped him down.

  “Right.” The second Marine placed a long-fingered hand on Julia’s arm to get her to look at him and not Mark’s washed out expressionless face. “We need to hold the spike as still as we can, while Lieutenant Michaels saws from underneath. Okay?”

  She nodded and straddled Mark’s thighs, the sharp spiral of the spike biting into the soft flesh of her palms. It would be easier said than done, she knew.

  For every slide of the saw, the spike fought back sending vibrations up her arms and into her gritted teeth. Julia held it as still as she could, sweat making her palms slick, and offered up her gratitude to the universe that Mark was unconscious. It had to be excruciating. Once the saw had bit a groove into the spike, Lieutenant Michaels sped up; each of his push-pulls staining the pads with blooms of fresh scarlet.

  It felt like hours later when the saw thunked through the final slither and Julia allowed a painful breath into her lungs. She stuffed more padding under Mark’s hip and helped Zeb position him further on the board, adjusting the leg straps before using duct tape to tie off the spike to the board’s central hand grip.

  Julia groaned and stretched out of the awkward position she’d been holding through the ordeal and felt the fire of protesting muscles as she rolled her shoulders. Stephen had a bowline rope wedged in his armpits and was being hoisted out of the hole. Anora was sitting upright, holding four-by-fours to her head as she waited for extraction up to daylight.

  “Kate?”

  “Go for Kate.”

  “Colonel Holden is a status two. He’s unconscious. We’ve detached the rebar from the floor and anchored it where it’s impaled. We’ll need to evac A-SAP.”

  “Copy that. How’s Mr Cooper?”

  “Awake and grumpy.” Brendon said with a laugh.

  Hayden confirmed Brendon’s diagnosis by groaning into his radio. “I will be well. Get Holden out of here, so we can all go home.”

  “Personally, I like Hayden’s plan.” Julia got to her feet, shouldering the field kit and following the two Marines who were carrying Mark toward the halo of light.

  Major Dawson had picked up Anora and had returned with an empty rope dangling from Rescue one’s wing. Julia hung both her harness and the board’s looped ropes onto the carabiners. She stood with Mark levitating at her waist, her hand on his arm, and waited the few long seconds before her feet were lifted free of the dust and debris. The fresh air felt nice on her sweaty grime-coated face and she smiled a weary smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth. There was a long way to go, but at least Mark was out of the dark that could so easily have been his tomb.

  “Hold on, handsome.” She whispered, the board’s edge pressing across the tops of her thighs as they swayed gently. “We’re nearly there.”

  Kate came running across from her triage by Glider three; getting to Julia and Mark just as Major Dawson touched them down. Julia’s knees buckled with the return of gravity and she disconnected both her and Mark from the rope so the major could go back for Hayden and the others. Kate eyed her with a sympathy Julia couldn’t bear to acknowledge while time was against her.

  “We have to leave now, or I’m going to lose him.” The confession was jagged; the sound of boots grinding on broken glass, and her throat ached from holding it in so long. She swiped the back of her shaky grimy hands across her cheeks and sniffed.

  “No. You’re not.” Kate said; her no nonsense medically-instilled demeanor winning out. “He’s strong, but we do have to hurry. It took three hours to get here.”

  Major Dawson had lowered Rescue one back into its parking spot and was calling his men in while Brendon, Levi, and Zeb packed away the gear. Hayden, a quiet calming presence in the cacophony and clamor of imminent departure, crossed his ankles and dropped smoothly to sit opposite Julia. A motionless and pale Mark lying strapped to his backboard between them.

  “Will he live?” Hayden asked, the blue and scarlet vignette of the tattooed mask, stark against his shock-faded tan.

  “Of course he will.” Julia said, harsher than she’d meant to be. “He has too.”

  She may have established a life of her own here in Dragonus, but it was a life that began and ended with the injured man in front of her. The place inside of her that had bloomed to life with the first press of his lips on hers, threatened to wither and die at the mere thought of losing its other half. Yeah, she wasn’t going to put up with that. Not when they’d only had one short year and some change. There was still too much left to do, to learn from each other, to share, and to give. She wasn’t done with her colonel, and she hoped to whoever was listening that he wasn’t done with her either.

  “He’s been through worse.”

  Julia appreciated the consolation offered from behind the curtain of silver-blond hair, turned blue-gray in the fading afternoon light. It did help to have the words spoken aloud; even if it took much effort to believe in them.

  “I don’t doubt it.” Julia ground out as she pushed herself to her feet. She hardly thought of it now, but if all of this was real, then the episodes of Phoenix Rising she’d watched back on her Earth were no doubt based on actual missions here in Dragonus.

  Oh God! Season two’s glider crash.

  Season three’s Arcadian prison camp double episode.

  Julia felt sick. They’d been two of her favorite episodes. To think her friends, her fiancé, had suffered through it all, and worse, since television glamorized everything.

  “You, Anora, and Stephen’ll have to go back with Major Dawson in Glider three.”

  Hayden gave no reaction beyond a sharp nod as he got to his feet in one graceful movement and headed toward the gathered Marines. Major Dawson would have to find another pilot from among his men, to fly Glider one back.

  “Guys.” Julia called, gaining the attention of her team with ease. “You’ll have to go back with the Marines. Kate’ll come with me and monitor Colonel Holden. We’ll be lighter that way.”

  She would need every advantage in this particular race against time, and the lighter Rescue one was, the faster she’d be – or at least that was the theory. Julia could feel her body responding to the challenge. The massive dose of adrenalin being dumped into her bloodstream was making her itch to get going, to feel the controls beneath her palms and the asteroid field in her rear display. Because, once that happened she could put her foot down. She would have Mark back to Phoenix and under Doctor Peyton’s scalpel in record time.

  “Let’s get him on board.” Brendon said, squeezing her shoulder before crouching to grip the head of Mark’s board while Levi took the foot.

  Julia permitted herself a single stroke of Mark’s cheek before running up the ramp and into Rescue one’s cockpit; the console lighting up before she’d sat in the pilot’s chair. “Phoenix City, this is Rescue one, over.”

  “Go ahead, Rescue one.”

  “We are on our way, heavy one status two. Please have Doctor Peyton waiting in surgery. Colonel Holden will need her expertise.”

  “ETA?”

  “Three hours, maybe less.”

  Julia accelerated through Alonac-57’s atmosphere at the
steepest angle possible and out into inky black, before lunging into the gauntlet of rocks that spilled across a vast stretch of space, like marbles over a playroom floor.

  “Understood, Rescue one, Phoenix out.”

  It seemed no time at all before Julia was out the other side of the field and increasing to top speed across the immensity of empty space, on her way to the portal coordinates. She wondered absently if Mark could have flown that obstacle course any faster. No doubt he’d have said he could.

  Kate had him hooked up to a portable lifepack and was sitting watching the read outs when it started bleeping a high-pitched whistle.

  “What’s happening?”

  “Defib.”

  Julia had heard that sound enough times to know what Kate said was true, and it chilled her to her bones. She bit the inside of her cheek, knuckles white around the controls as the lifepack shocked Mark; the whoosh-thump-thud of the electricity jolting his heart and his body. Silence filled the tiny ship as it flew unhindered in a beeline as its pilot pleaded with the universe to let her keep the man she loved. The lifepack emitted a long bleep, then a shorter blip, followed by another and another. Julia exhaled a ragged sound drenched in relief and gratitude. Kate had brought Mark back. And Julia turned her mind inwards to see if she could coax even more speed out of her glider.

  Rescue one materialized in the Birdcage amid the blue lightning of the portal defusing down the ornate silver framework. Julia had the ramp lowering before she’d touched down and Kate was updating the first response doctor as they wheeled Mark away to meet Doctor Peyton in the OR. Her adrenalin was burned up and Julia collapsed over the console, closing her eyes for a moment. They had made it.

  Colonel Archer met Julia at the end of the Birdcage bridge after she’d moved Rescue one to its perch on the south wall. Sarah’s concern was evident by the way she reached a hand out to Julia, but dropped it before it could make contact. “Wings, you did a great job.”

  “Thanks.” Julia made the effort to smile, but it never formed on her lips. “But if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to check on him.”

  “It’ll be a while. Make sure you get some rest yourself.” Sarah called after her, Julia nodding absently as she jogged down the back stairs and along the corridor to the relocator at the end.

  She came to with Doctor Peyton shaking her shoulder and calling her name. She hadn’t noticed when she’d fallen asleep, didn’t think it was possible in the awful plastic chairs. Julia sat up, stretching before rubbing her face in an effort to wake up fully.

  “How is he?”

  “He’ll pull through.” Doctor Peyton reassured with a soft chuckle. “It’s not the first time, or even the worst he’s put himself through. That’s one stubborn man you’ve gone and got yourself.”

  “So I’ve been told.” Julia grimaced and got to her feet, unzipping her jacket and tugging down her tee where it had worked free of her waistband. “When can I see him?”

  “He’s sleeping off the anesthetic. It’ll be a good six hours yet.” Doctor Peyton eyed her with an air of professional assessment and gently turned her toward the exit. “He’s in good hands, go get some rest and come back after breakfast.”

  Julia nodded, the tendrils of sleep lulling away any protests she would normally have made.

  ~*~

  She lay curled in a fetal position within the borders of the silver floor tiles, while the shower’s hot water tributaries seared away the grime, blood, and dust from her skin; flowing down the invisible drain. Her hair was plastered to her face as she shook with every scream of terror and panic that ripped itself free from her lungs.

  An incalculable time later, feeling like an old balloon found under the couch three days after a party, Julia stood up and washed properly; tilted her face up to the water’s soft caress. The temperature automatically lowered and she allowed herself to breath deep, using the ritual to pull her mind into focus again. She stepped out and rubbed herself dry on a white fluffy towel that smelled like it had been laundered in a sun-warmed ocean breeze.

  Dressed in clean jeans and a snug white tee, she reached for her leather jacket; only to recoil at its condition. It was filthy, covered in a chalky paste of dust and Mark’s blood. Julia cut off a sob and breathed deep ragged breaths, determined not to lose control of her emotions again.

  Mark’s jacket hung on the back of the desk chair and Julia picked it up, clutching it to her chest and burying her nose in the collar. His scent flooded her nostrils and memories of his warmth invaded her mind. She groaned under the strength of them and shrugged into the jacket. He wouldn’t mind, and she needed to feel him close to her.

  Julia looked at her own jacket. It was unlikely she’d ever be able to wear it again without thinking of all she’d been through that day; without being reminded of how close she’d come to losing all she had found. She picked it up with two fingers and dropped it in the trash can next to Mark’s desk, turned on her heel and fled the room in search of the light and company of the Mess hall.

  She carried her tray of steak and salad, chocolate pudding, and a bottle of water to an empty balcony table in an isolated corner of the cavernous room. She needed to eat to fuel her body, but did not require the experience of stimulating conversation.

  “Wings?”

  She jumped, not having heard Brendon’s approach; her bottle falling over to roll across the table.

  “Sorry.” He grimaced, catching it one-handed while balancing an overloaded tray in the other.

  Julia looked at him; waited for him to say his piece and leave her alone.

  “I just checked in at the infirmary.” She tensed, breath caught in her throat. Brendon looked crest-fallen and hastened to offer reassurance. “No, no, everything’s okay. In fact, they’re great. Colonel Holden’s doing really well. Doctor Peyton is confident he will make a full recovery in no time at all.”

  He shifted his tray to balance precariously on one splayed hand, so he could give her back her water and an awkward pat on the shoulder before moving on. Julia let her breath out again and stared out across the ocean while she stabbed anything onto her fork.

  She got to the observation level of the hospital building about two hours after she’d left it, feeling more physically able to deal with anything. Or so she thought.

  Mark slept; still and pale as a marble effigy on an ancient sarcophagus. His chest rose and fell in a regular rhythm; one that Julia was able to time her own to as she walked over to his bedside. She brushed a gentle fingertip across his brow, the soft strands of black tickling her knuckles, and leaned in to kiss his lips. They were warm and familiar but they didn’t willingly part beneath hers. She sighed and Doctor Peyton looked up from her workstation by the door.

  “He’s going to be fine.”

  “Is it okay if I stay until he wakes up?”

  “That won’t be for a while.”

  “I don’t mind.” Julia murmured, her eyes on Mark’s face again.

  “There’s a chair in the corner.”

  She picked it up and placed it next to Mark’s bed on the opposite side from the monitors, leaned back and just let her eyes look at him…

  “Julia?”

  She jumped awake; Mark’s hand still in hers. “It’s okay, I’m here. You’re in the infirmary on Phoenix.”

  He hissed a breath through his teeth as he tried to sit up.

  “No! Don’t move, oh God, you’ll tear something open again.”

  “What happened?” He asked, resting his free hand palm up on his thigh.

  “You were overdue for check-in. Colonel Archer sent my team, Major Dawson, and two squads of Marines after you.”

  “She must’ve been worried.”

  “She wasn’t the only one.” Julia said sternly and he gave her hand a weak squeeze.

  “So, you came after me?” He tried for a smile.

  “You knew I would.”

  “How are the others?”

  She smiled, a faint lift of her lips that had Mark an
swering with his own crooked smirk. “They’re fine, resting in their quarters. Doctor Garrett got off lightly with a banged up head – no concussion. Anora is battered and bruised with a sprained ankle. And Hayden, well, Hayden’s Hayden.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me in the least.” He chuckled, only to grimace a second later and gingerly press a hand to his side. “And me?”

  “You.” Julia’s brows drew together. “Gave me a fucking heart attack. Don’t you ever do that to me again. And don’t go thinking that sexy smile of yours will get you out of the big trouble you’re in Mr.”

  Her words were all hot air and they both knew it. His sexy smile was working, and her heart thudded with joy to see it.

  “Nice jacket.”

  “You don’t mind, do you?” She tugged the open edges over her chest and crossed her arms. “I needed you with me.”

  Mark shook his head. “It suits you, having me on your body.”

  She stared at him. His devilment was already returning and Julia knew then he would be fine. She blushed, and kissed him gently on the lips. But like the very young or the elderly, he had already drifted back to sleep. Julia held his hand in hers; resting them on the blanket beside his thigh, and sat back in her chair, content just to look at him.

  Doctor Peyton sent Julia to her own bed at twenty-two-hundred, reassuring her if anything should happen Julia would be the first one she radioed. Julia removed her boots, jeans, and Mark’s jacket, and climbed under the covers before crashing into an exhausted sleep.

  She woke in the dark; freezing and alone. All the blankets kicked off and gooseflesh prickled her skin. It was either still the middle of the graveyard shift, or extremely early. Everyone and everything was sleeping – except her. She needed Mark. Julia had grown accustomed to sleeping against his warmth, without him, their bed was a cold and lonely place. There was no help for it. She pulled on her jeans, boots, and Mark’s jacket as she walked out the double doors of their quarters.

  The relocator atomized her to the infirmary level and left her woozy from the blink of a trip. Julia stood still, gripping the frame of the alcove for a moment until her mind settled back in her re-molecularized body, before walking the short distance to the infirmary entrance. She was prepared to argue her way in and strode through the wide sliding doors if she owned the place. A junior doctor nodded politely from his desk, taking the wind from her sails. She offered a polite back and walked past him before he could think better of letting her in.