Challa (34 page)

“But how?” Challa asked.

Instead of answering, Compton looked around, trying to spot something that might be a viable weapon. He noticed a sharp spike lying on the ground several yards away. Maybe the cocoon could be chipped away.

Hurrying over to grab it, he reached down to pick it up when Challa called out to him. “No, no! Don’t touch it!”

He froze. “Huh?”

Tiron detached herself from her husband’s embrace and ran over to where Compton was standing. “It’s an
adjac
,” she said, and bent down to retrieve it. “If you’re not careful, you could do some serious damage to yourself.”

A light bulb turned on. “Didn’t you say that thing was used to burn holes in people?” he asked her.

Tiron stared at him. “Yes.”

“Can it burn a hole in that thing?” he asked, pointing toward the cocoon. “Maybe we need Arran technology to fight Arran technology.”

She started, then rushed back to the group and handed the weapon to Jebaral. The Ruinos curled his claws around the slender tube, and with a determined look on his face, jammed the weapon as hard as he could into the bubble.

There was a spurt of steam. Sarah shrieked.
“It punctured it! It punched through! Hurry! He’s dying in there!
”

Jebaral continued to ram the
adjac
into the cocoon, creating several deep holes. DeGrassi ordered him, “Stay in one spot. Try to get all the way through to him with that thing.”

Compton looked back at where the other men were cleaning up. More than a dozen white puddles still pulsated on the ground, the last remains of the Arra. He spotted two more
adjacs
, and he nudged Tiron to point them out. She nodded and went to get them, but DeGrassi’s comment had gotten him thinking.

“Where are you going?” Challa stopped him.

Compton gave her a smile. “Wait here. Don’t worry. I’ll be right back.”

She gave him a worried smile as she nodded and watched him hurry over to the sheriff.

Compton waved down Klotsky. “Hey, Sheriff! You wouldn’t happen to have a Jaws of Life in the trunk of one of those cop cars, would you?”

“Yeah! There’s one in the back of my cruiser,” Klotsky answered. “Here. I’ll come help you. Reynolds! Give us a hand, would you?” The man motioned for the deputy to join them.

“I was thinking we could stick it into that hole Jeb is chipping away and maybe pry that cocoon open,” Compton told him. He turned to wait for the sheriff and deputy to catch up with him when he heard Challa’s scream in his head. Looking over at her, he felt her terror slam into him. Instinctively, Compton dropped to the ground.

Klotsky grunted. At almost the same time, the sheriff appeared to trip over something lying on the ground. The big man fell without uttering another sound.

“
Compton!
”
Challa screamed again. Compton started to rise to see if he could spot what terrified her, when he sensed her coming toward him. She literally jumped over him as she shrieked again, anger overriding her fear. Right behind her was Tiron.

Compton got to get to his feet to see what the two Ruinos were going after when incredible pain charged through his body. He barely had the chance to gasp when he fell heavily back onto the ground, on his side. Stunned, he tried to roll over but his body wouldn’t obey him. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t call out. He was totally without any control over his body.

He couldn’t see what Challa and Tiron were fighting, but he could hear them. He could taste Challa’s anger, bright and rancid, like chewing on aluminum foil.

Someone grabbed him under the arms and hurried to pull him out of what must have been the line of fire. He swore he heard some kind of buzzing or electrical sound as he was propped against a tree. Unfortunately, he remained staring upward, unable to look down or around.

Breathing was difficult. The best he could manage was to gasp for air. In his head he sensed Challa fighting within a mist of hot blood.

Compton fought the debilitating effects of whatever was affecting him as he listened to his mate and Tiron fighting. There was a rifle blast, which told him DeGrassi had entered the fray, plus the
burr
of chainsaws. He wished he could see how the sheriff was faring, but there was nothing he could do but stare up into the night sky and listen to the chilling sounds he could not identify.

Somehow the lone Arra who’d escaped earlier must have gotten reinforcements and returned. Compton cursed himself again for not paying closer attention. He tried once more to move, but he still felt as if he was encased in invisible concrete. Even his throat was numb, preventing him from speaking or calling out.

Where are you, Challa? What are you fighting? How many are there? How are you managing?

A trembling sensation went through him. It was a fluttering as faint as a leaf moving in a breeze, but it was enough to let him know the effects of whatever he was suffering was beginning to lose strength. It gave him hope.

There were more screams. More Ruinos shrieks of anger. Another gunshot blast. But the sounds of fighting were gradually lessening.

There was a twinge of pain in his real leg. Compton recognized a cramp coming on in his calf. He managed to grunt, and he felt the rough seam of his jeans under his fingertips. The immobility was slow to fade, but it
was
fading.

Hold on, Challa. Hold on. Another minute. Hold on for another minute.

Unfortunately, he knew all too well that a lot could happen in sixty seconds.

Chapter 45

Trojan Horse

Something crawled up the side of his neck. Compton’s automatic reaction was to reach up and brush the insect away.

I can move!

Only partially, he quickly found out. Freedom was restricted to some arm and hand movement. But from his waist down, the novocaine effect of the Arra’s paralyzing ray kept him pinned down. At least the heavy weight had lifted off his chest, and he could breathe more easily.

Fortunately, having his arms back under his control was enough to allow him to roll over onto his belly and crane his neck for sign of Challa.

Compton stared in wide-eyed horror. Three Arra stood in a small clearing approximately fifty yards away. Before them was a diamond-shaped bubble—with rounded edges, glowing butter yellow in color, and sending out yellowish rays in every direction.

On the ground, from what he could see, four piles of steaming Arra were all that was left of four more Arra. But that’s not what horrified him. It was the limp, humanoid forms lying scattered across the grass and tarmac.

Challa.
He sent a mental nudge, hoping he was doing it right. Hoping she would respond.

There was nothing. No answer. Not even the sense of her sweet presence filling his head or heart.

Challa!

From where he was laying he couldn’t tell which forms were human and which were Ruinos. With the Arra watching the diamond ray keeping everyone at bay, Compton didn’t dare draw attention to himself. Not when he could feel a tingling in his good leg. He was almost back to one hundred percent. Whoever had moved him to the tree had done him a favor. The tree had blocked the ray from hitting him full-on, and lying flat on the ground had kept him underneath more line of fire.

He kept his eyes focused on the Arra. At least some of his unasked questions were answered now. Sometimes slavers had to chase down single individuals, or small groups. For the Arra, the paralyzing disk sufficed. But there would also be times when the Arra would face large crowds, and that was what Compton had wondered about. How did these walking lumps of putty handle bigger numbers of recalcitrant victims?

The diamond made no sound as it hovered four feet off the ground. The rays were not direct or solid like rays of sunshine, or beams of light from a flashlight. These rays were glittery, broken mirrors varying in color and intensity. They vaguely reminded him of the reflective flecks in Challa’s eyes, only larger and broader.

Apparently the lone Arra that had escaped earlier had gone back and gotten more than reinforcements. Compton wondered what their next step would be. There was no doubt in his mind that every logger and law enforcement officer, not to mention the Ruinos, was unconscious.

The silence was agonizing.

Compton knew the Arra would take the Ruinos with them. That had been their prime mission—to retrieve their escapees. However, there remained the question of the blood mates, and Compton was willing to bet the Arra were just about to realize they may have made a mistake. They must know the blood mates were among the others lying on the ground, but which ones were they?

Compton silently uttered a challenge to the Arra.
What are you going to do?
Take all of us up in your ship, and slowly weed out the wrong ones? What will you do to those who aren’t their mates?

He couldn’t get the image of the exploding deputy out of his head. The horror of that moment would stay with him forever.

Two Arra moved away, leaving one behind to stay with the diamond. Compton remained silent and still, and watched as they moved among the bodies. One Arra produced what looked like a foot-long length of silver pipe. They bent over, lowering the pipe. A minute later, they straightened, lifting the pipe between them. But there was a body attached to the pipe. A Ruinos. A female.

Compton went numb with fear.
Challa!

Her head lolled forward between her up-stretched arms, her body limp as it rose on invisible wires. Her hands appeared to be inside the opposite ends of the pipe. It reminded Compton of handcuffs.

A sudden gust of wind came down over the road, sending debris flying. Compton narrowed his eyes and resisted the effort to turn his head, afraid the movement would alert the Arra that his paralysis was gone.

The Arra continued to glide slowly over the ground until they reached the blacktop road. Challa remained suspended between them. The wind increased, almost gusting like a gathering storm, except this wind wasn’t being generated by Mother Nature. The distinctive smell of ozone that announced a coming rainstorm was missing

It had to be the Arran ship.

Gritting his teeth, Compton closed his eyes and willed himself into a state of preparedness. Reverting to methods the military had drilled into him. He had made too many mistakes in not trusting his training, or allowing his training to guide his common sense. He swore to himself it would not happen again.

Rule Four: Never try to guess what the enemy will do next. Go with what you know for sure.

The Arra had Challa and were taking her to their ship. He couldn’t waste time wondering or betting that the Arra would take every Ruinos, also. Whether or not they would also take the humans with them and weed them out one-by-one as they paired up blood mates was a moot issue. He had to stop them from taking Challa, but how? No telling where his rifle was.

If I get up to look for it, or to go after Challa, the rays will get me. But how do I get them to turn off that damn thing?

And do it now. The wind was kicking up, becoming more turbulent as the ship approached.

There was a groan coming from a few feet behind the Arra with the diamond. The creature moved to look. That was Compton’s cue. Reaching behind his fake knee, he lifted it until he could find the bottom of his jeans.

The Arra turned back around. The other two Arra continued to wait for whatever the ship was going to do, and weren’t paying attention to what was going on behind them. Obviously that was the diamond Arra’s job.

Slowly, agonizingly slow, his fingers crept up his fake leg, looking for the seam.

Off to his left, someone moved. It alerted the Arra with the diamond, and a sheet of golden light lanced outward, striking whoever had moved. There was a grunt and nothing more.

Compton waited until things had settled down again before he continued to reach for the gun hidden in the compartment of his prosthesis. Glancing over at where the two Arra stood with Challa, he found the small panel. It worked with a simple magnetic latch. Push on it, and it opened outward. Compton pushed it, letting his fingers slide over the small door.

The gun dropped into his hand, as welcome as an old friend. Now all he needed was another diversion. Something to attract diamond Arra’s attention so he could rescue Challa.

His whole focus was on getting her away from them. The Arra had given him no choice when they’d selected her to be the first one to take aboard.
And even if they hadn’t…

He had the pistol firmly in hand and clear of his jeans. Diamond Arra remained statue still. Compton cursed the fact that there was no way to tell if the creature was looking in his direction or not.

Rule Eleven: If the enemy won’t do what you want them to do, then give them a reason to.

Everything suddenly became crystal clear. If he waited for someone else to attract the Arra’s attention, it could be too late to save Challa. Therefore…

Compton sat up, aimed at the diamond bubble, and fired four swift rounds directly into it.

The object shattered like a crystal vase. The Arra behind it squealed in pain as it was embedded with hundreds of sharp splinters.