Dark Solstice (17 page)

She was looking at him and the look her eyes sent a stabbing pain through his chest. “I love you, John Raathe.”

Raathe swallowed convulsively, trying to tell himself he’d imagined it, but he couldn’t prevent the reviving tide of power that surged him with the hope that he had heard her correctly. “I’ll be claiming you again, munch,” he managed to say in a hoarse growl as the guards behind him gave him a shove.

They dragged her past him as the guards started removing his manacles, but he didn’t manage to catch her gaze again. He didn’t dare try. He was afraid he’d imagined the entire thing and he couldn’t afford to let go of even an ounce of the strength it had given him.

Anger added to the strength already surging through him as he watched them drag her across the arena, strip her, and chain her to the post as they had that first day. It had disgusted him then. It enraged him now to think of all the others staring at her.

Girding himself once the manacles had been removed, he followed the other ‘gladiators’ onto the field. Justice, to his surprise, shifted his position to face off with him.

His lips tightened as he met the man’s gaze.

Justice’s expression was grim. He slid a glance at the men on either side of them and met Raathe’s gaze again.
Fake it
, he mouthed.

Raathe felt a jolt of surprise travel through him. He stared at Justice hard, wondering if he’d said fuck it.

He didn’t have time to try to figure out what the hell was going on—if it was anything beyond a direct challenge by Justice for Rhea. The alarm sounded. He drew his fist back and punched Justice directly in the face, rocking him back on his heels. Uttering a snarl of rage, Kyle leapt at him when he recovered, catching him in a choke hold.

“I said fake it, god damn it!” he snarled near Raathe’s ear.

Raathe threw him off and swung at him again. Justice ducked that time and came back with a punch that caught Raathe across his injured ribs. It was a glancing blow, but Raathe almost went to his knees. A look of surprise flickered across Justice’s face, but he moved in after a split second, popping Raathe twice in the face with punches so light Raathe doubted it looked the least bit convincing.

“You’ll have to do better than that to convince anybody,” he growled, sucking in a harsh breath and swinging at Kyle again.

He caught Kyle square in the mouth, splitting his lip. Kyle spat blood and glared at him. “You’re starting to fucking piss me off, Raathe.”

“Good! If they don’t see blood they’ll know something’s up.”

“Fine! Have it your way!” Justice snarled, jabbing Raathe in the nose.

Raathe swiped the blood from his nose and lips with the back of one hand, waiting for Justice to move in again before he swung a fist at his mid-section. Justice grunted and fell back a step.

By the time the guards blasted them with the water cannons to separate them, they were both winded and bloody all over. With no clear idea of what was going down, or if Justice actually had anything planned, he chose a different opponent for the second round, steering clear of Justice since it hadn’t taken him more than a few minutes to realize he wasn’t in any shape to be a match for him at the moment. His new opponent, laboring under the misguided belief that Raathe was hurt too badly to be much of a challenge, grinned at him. “I’m gonna get your munch today, Raathe.”

Rage suffused him. “Not today, friend, or any other day,” he snarled, slamming the full force of his fist into the man’s jaw. It cost him, snapping the bone in his hand that had barely begun to heal and sending paralysis through his hand, but he broke the bastard’s jaw and the son-of-a-bitch didn’t attempt to get up again. Clenching and clenching his hand to try to get some feeling into it, he swept the arena with his gaze in search of another opponent. Another prisoner who’d just dispatched his challenger charged him. Raathe waited until the man was nearly upon him and leapt from his path, swinging his left arm toward the man as he flew past and burying his fist in the man’s solar plexus. The man hit the floor and skidded several yards. While he was still struggling to get air into his lungs, Raathe followed him, kicking him in the ribs for good measure, hitting him hard enough to lift him off the ground.

The man curled into a fetal ball, nursing his injured ribs with one arm and trying to roll up on his knees to rise. Raathe kicked him in the head. Stepping back, he studied the man a moment to see if he would get up and caught another cannon blast as he began to turn away.

Two rounds, he thought dizzily, two men down. It was a struggle to get to his feet again. By the time he’d made it through the next six rounds adrenaline and sheer determination were the only things keeping him on his feet. He could barely draw a decent breath to keep the darkness at bay, although he’d managed to protect his ribs from any direct blow. His right hand was nearly useless.

He sent a despairing glance in Rhea’s direction because he couldn’t help himself, staring at her a long moment and trying to dredge up enough strength to go another round.

“Look out!” she screamed.

He ducked automatically, swiveling on the balls of his feet to meet the threat. His timing, due entirely to Rhea and not his own exhausted reflexes, couldn’t have been more perfect. The man had just thrown his full weight into a punch aimed at Raathe’s kidneys. When he ducked, the man’s own impetus sent him flying over Raathe’s back. He plowed into Justice’s opponent and both men hit the rocky floor of the cavern, tumbling over one another.

The cannons blasted again. The cold water revived Raathe enough he managed to stagger to his feet.

“Round ten! Gladiators chose your weapons!”

The announcement jolted through Raathe. He shook his head, trying to shake off the darkness trying to invade his senses. Summoning what strength he could muster, he looked around a little dazedly, spied the guards with the weapons and tried to jog toward them before he found himself empty handed. Justice slowed beside him.

“We have to take the fight to Rhea. It’s the only way to get her lose. Grimes will be opening the blast doors. Be ready to take the guards out.”

The clipped, low voiced orders barely registered. Raathe shook his head, trying to dispel the ringing in his ears. Justice reached the bin of weapons first. Grabbing a club with a wicked looking blade attached to one end, he tossed it to Raathe. Raathe caught it, barely, with his right hand, by instinct more than design—and then nearly dropped it again because he couldn’t close his fist around it. Switching hands, he swung the club a couple of times to try to get a feel for it in his left hand.

“Shit!” he growled, realizing he’d missed his chance at a ‘shield’. Not that he could’ve held on to one if he had, he thought wryly, dancing backwards as Justice reversed directions and came at him.

“To your left,” Justice growled, swinging at him with the club he’d chosen for himself.

Raathe dove away from him, rolled and managed to come up on the balls of his feet. A quick glance told him he had a far piece to go the get within striking distance of either of the guards standing next to Rhea. Shaking the dizziness, he surged upward and struck at Justice’s shield several times in quick succession, driving Justice back several feet and then retreating twice that far as Justice took the initiative and swung at him. He blocked the first blow with his club and then danced backward and swung to block another blow.

Raathe was sweating so profusely from pain after a few minutes, he felt his grip slipping on the club. Tossing it to his right hand, he tried to dry his left for a better grip but couldn’t find a dry spot to use. Justice swung at him, knocking his club from his weak hand and sending it skittering across the floor.

Uttering a snarl of rage, Raathe leapt toward him, slamming into Justice’s shield hard enough it sent Justice sprawling backwards. He leapt back at once, whirled to look for his missing weapon and raced toward it. The weapon had come to a halt only a couple of yards from the nearest guard. The guard dove for his weapon at the same time Raathe did, but despite his injuries, Raathe was closer, and faster.

Justice uttered a war cry directly behind him. “Now, Raathe!”

Snatching the club from the floor, Raathe drew it back and slung it at the guard’s midsection with every ounce of strength he could put into the blow. For a split second, time almost seemed to stand still. His mind recorded the clipped image of stunned surprise and horror on the guard’s face.

And then the lights went out.

Chapter Fifteen

A near deafening silence descended for a handful of seconds as the lights went out, making Raathe wonder if he’d blacked out. The guard grunted as Raathe’s blade made impact and dug in. The blow sent a shaft of paralyzing pain all the way up Raathe’s arm to his shoulder, jarring his grip from the weapon. To his left, he heard another guttural cry and then Rhea screamed.

The scream cut through his shocked certainty that he’d blacked out where neither of the other cries had really registered. He surged blindly to his feet, fell over the guard he’d killed, and searched him frantically for his keys. He’d just gripped them in his hand when someone touched his shoulder.

“I’ve got her,” Justice growled, blocking the blow Raathe swung at him. “Move it!”

Stumbling blindly to his feet, Raathe swung his hands out in search of something to anchor himself. He met two other hands groping the darkness—Rhea’s and Justice’s.

“I can’t see a fucking thing!” he growled as the three of them stumbled forward through darkness so thick it felt as if it had substance.

“The backup generator will kick in any second,” Justice responded, pulling at him. “We’ll be dodging laser blasts if we don’t get to the doors.

He was too disoriented to
find
the fucking the doors!

A flicker of light was their first warning that the generators had kicked on, but it gave Raathe just enough sight in that split second to see that they’d managed to stumble their way more or less in the general direction of the blast doors. Grimes, he saw, looking like a deer caught in a hunter’s crosshairs, was standing in the open door. More sure of himself now, he slung Justice’s grip off, snatched Rhea off her feet with his good arm, and raced toward the door.

The lights blinded them when they flickered to life, but it had a similar effect on the guards. They’d covered several more yards before the guards began to pepper the floor of the arena around them with laser blasts.

Justice uttered a curse and plowed the floor as one blast caught his leg, but managed to roll up and get to his feet again. Grimes ducked out of the door before they reached it. The door began to swing closed. Cursing Grimes for his cowardice, Raathe ran faster. He managed to catch the edge of the door with his right hand before it closed, sealing them in, but he didn’t have the strength in it to grip the door and pull it open again. Justice plowed into him, shoving him against the door and nearly slamming it closed. Fortunately, his fingers were still in it. He ground his teeth at the pain that shot through his previously uninjured fingers and released Rhea long enough to pull the door open.

Grimes had already reached the door at the far end and was frantically keying the code as they shot through the blast doors and raced toward him. He was still fumbling to get the code in when they reached him. Justice shoved him out of the way, shot the panel off with the guard’s gun that he’d appropriated and began snatching at the wires, hissing in pain as the electricity jolted him. Finally, he managed to grab two and twist them together. The door swung open and they stumbled through, slamming into one another in their haste.

Justice grabbed Rhea before Raathe could as they started down the next corridor, swinging her onto his shoulder. Cook opened the door they were racing toward before they reached it, holding it open just long enough for Grimes to leap through. Raathe, hard on heels, leapt through behind him, shoving at the door with his shoulder to allow Justice to race through with Rhea.

They heard pursuit on the upper walk before they were halfway down the next corridor and laser blasts began peppering the walls and floors around them. Tossing Rhea to Raathe, Justice turned, drew a bead on the guard shooting at them and cut him down with a well placed laser blast. Firing two more shots at the guards behind the first man, he whirled around and raced to catch up when Grimes began bellowing at him for the code.

“Like hell I’m giving you the fucking code, you son-of-a-bitch!” Justice bellowed.

Grimes and Cook were plastered against the door when he reached it. Raathe, struggling to catch his breath, had set Rhea on her feet and pushed her behind him. Swinging around, Justice fired several shots in quick succession and then whirled toward the panel when the guards took cover, punching in the code.

Grimes and Cook fell through the door as it opened, scrambled to their feet, and raced across the shuttle bay toward the ship at the far end. “I can run!” Rhea shouted as Raathe reached for her.

He ignored her, grabbing her around the waist and racing after Grimes and Cook.

There wasn’t a guard in sight and the gangplank was down. Grimes and Cook charged up it. Raathe stopped at the foot, waiting for Justice to precede them with the pistol. Once they’d reached the portal, Raathe released Rhea and searched for the button to retract the gangplank.

“I’ll check the ship,” Justice said grimly, turning toward the cargo bay rather than the cockpit.

Too out of breath to speak, Raathe merely nodded. Rhea, he saw when he straightened, was staring at him worriedly. He lifted a hand with an effort and brushed it along her cheek. “You did good, munch.”

Rhea studied him with a mixture of doubt and indignation. “I didn’t do anything.”

He chuckled and then winced, gripping his ribs. “Exactly, baby. No screaming, fainting, or tears,” he said gustily. “Good girl. See if you can find something to put on before I have to kill Grimes and Cook.”

Turning away, he looked the ship over and headed toward the cockpit as quickly as he could. Rhea followed him despite his order to find something to put on, watching him anxiously when he collapsed in the pilot’s seat wearily when he reached it, examined the controls, and began to flip switches. The ship began to hum almost instantly. Air gushed through vents around the ship. A heaviness began to descend over Rhea that she realized was the ship pressurizing and likely the artificial gravity kicking in, as well.