What the hell was I supposed to do with that information? I already knew I couldn’t trust the Consulate, Kale, or Britta. Dad had told me long ago not to trust anyone if anything happened to him. Yet he had trusted Markus, who turned out to be a burner, so putting my trust in James would make me just as dumb. I couldn’t let him get to me no matter how amazing his abs were. Still, that sadness in his eyes—
Another bomb rocked the bunker, and I almost fell out of my seat. I gasped as the lamp in the study crashed to the floor. My father got it at an antique trade market years ago. Lamps hadn’t been used in ages. The one benefit of Earth’s demise was that we got a truckload of solar energy. Special solar cell panels provided all the light any one person could use. We only had two panels, disguised as part of the cactus grove, and we could light this place up like a Christmas cactus if we wanted.
“Everyone doin’ okay?” Markus asked.
I reached the front room and noticed Britta sitting near Markus. Scratch the near part; she was almost in his lap. His hand rested lightly on her cuffed ones. Guess he wasn’t too disturbed by her trying to send me on a one-way ticket out of here.
Kale hobbled in, refusing James’ offers of assistance. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea for you to be bearing weight on it yet—”
“Nonsense. Am I the damn captain of this team or what? I walk when I want to walk. Nobody tells me when the hell to walk.” He grimaced as he hopped to the nearest chair and parked himself in it.
Markus looked over at James. “Is he drunk or something?”
“Nah, just the pain meds can have a similar effect. He’ll probably fall asleep again soon.”
“Dammit! I don’t want any more sleep. I want to get the hell out of here.”
I thought of their ship. It was unlikely that it was even in one piece, so I didn’t think we were going anywhere. I told him so.
Kale laughed long and hard. Yeah, he sounded drunk. “They didn’t drop the bombs on the ship, I guaran-fucking-tee it. Tora hit their wing so they’ll save our ship in case they need it. But they won’t get far.” He started laughing again, then reached in his pocket and pulled out a small metallic object. It looked like a machine part.
Britta’s eyes widened. She was probably wondering if her fearless leader had totally lost his mind. She looked ridiculous, but I had to admit, I wondered the same thing myself.
“What is that, Kale?” asked James in the gentle tone one uses to talk to a child. His gravelly voice soothed me and I wasn’t even the one freaking out.
“Just a little thing my ship can’t fly without—the fuel converter. Those burners aren’t goin’ anywhere in our ship.” He chuckled a minute, then dropped his head on the table and started snoring.
Markus laughed. “Wow. Nice meds there, James.” He cleared his throat, and pulled his hand back from Britta’s. “So, in light of what’s going on here, don’t you think we should take off Britta’s cuffs? She’s promised to be a good girl.”
Britta scowled at me. Nothing about her looked remotely good. I fought to keep my temper, but it never allowed itself to be kept for long. “Markus, I realize this pint-sized burner raises the flag on your flagpole so to speak, but no way in hell is she getting out of those. She’d just attack me again.”
“I didn’t attack you.” She spat the words at me. “Well, okay, I did, but it wasn’t like I tried to kill you or anything.”
Right. Because leaving me in a locked coffin for the Consulate was a total act of kindness.
“Please, these cuffs are killing me.” Her tone changed to that of a petulant child.
I couldn’t help laughing. “Yeah, like I wouldn’t know how that feels, right?”
“Fine, I’m … I’m … sorry.” Britta almost choked on the last word. It had to be the first apology she’d given in her life. She did look miserable though.
I looked to James, but he deferred to me. “It’s your call.” He stared at Britta. “But Britta, I’ll take you down myself if you try to sabotage the plan again. You didn’t follow orders and that’s punishable by death. You of all people should know that.”
A long look passed between them, one I didn’t understand.
“Fine,” Britta said. “But he doesn’t seem capable of giving orders right now, so that makes you in charge.”
“Only until he wakes up, which should be in less than an hour. What do you say, Tora?”
James’ deference surprised me. He was certainly trying to make the case that I could trust him. It was a shame I didn’t have an ounce of trust to spare. I wondered if the “punishable by death” thing would apply if I told Kale about James not shooting at me earlier. If so, he trusted me more than I would have if I were him.
“You can release her.” A small surge of pleasure ran through me at having power over Britta. A taste of her own medicine.
James pushed the electronic release button, and Markus removed her cuffs. Britta rubbed her wrists vigorously, like she’d been confined for weeks in a dark dungeon, instead of an hour on the couch.
We sipped water, trying to be civil to one another while rotating door patrol and bracing as each round of bombs dropped. Kale finally woke up, swearing up one side and down the other.
“Sorry, sir, no more pain meds. We need you.”
“Zulu! What’s a man gotta do to get good medical help these days?” Kale bitched and moaned but James refused to give him any more meds. Markus handed Kale a water bottle instead, which Kale promptly threw against the wall. Thank God the lid was still on it; wasting water was unheard of. I’d never seen a man have a temper tantrum before, but he finally calmed down after realizing he wasn’t getting any more painkillers.
Kale took a long chug from the water bottle Britta had retrieved from the floor. “So, did you figure out a game plan in my absence?” he asked.
Looks passed back and forth among everyone. No one wanted to be the one to say there was no game plan.
James addressed him. “Sir—”
“Yes, we have a plan,” I interrupted. All heads swiveled to me. James had a questioning look in his eyes, like he was still trying to warn me. I might not be able to trust the rest of them and I might later regret my decision, but part of me must have decided to trust him. The words rushed out before I could stop them. “I’m getting the guns.”
Chapter TWELVE
I LED JAMES DOWN THE CORRIDOR TOWARD THE RECREATION room, then beyond it to the closet. I’d forced everyone else into the front room. James and I would bring the guns up to them. I didn’t want anyone else back there with us because a) I didn’t trust them even more than I didn’t trust James and b) I hadn’t yet decided whether I was bringing all of the guns or not. I was thinking of the most deadly ones. If I left the really bad ones there, maybe James wouldn’t tell.
Scratch that. It wouldn’t work to leave some in the room. The Consulate knew Dad had completed all the weapons—Dad told me he’d shown them T.O. right before he took off. They’d come looking for it faster than you could say pistola. I’d have to take them with me, and figure out what to do with them later.
As we reached the closet, I took out a stack of towels and placed them on the floor, then waved my hand over a hidden panel in the back of the door. It had been programmed to only accept my father’s hand and mine.
“I knew it,” said James, as the back of the closet swung inward, taking the rest of the linen-filled shelves with it.