Free Wounds, Book 1 by Ilsa J. Bick Page A

pushed the button.
    Chapter
11
    S aad came to find her after several hours though she’d lost track of time. Lense sat on a rock just outside the entrance to this system of caverns. The guard was with her, of course, but she’d wanted to go out. Maybe just to convince herself that there was an outside world, something that was not a warren of dank, glistening gray caves. That orange ball of a sun was setting to her right, its light refracted to a dark red that glowed on the undersides of a pillow of yellow clouds and turned them a peachy blush. It was a little cooler now, too, and she was more comfortable in the clothes they’d given her: a rough cotton khaki tee and matching trousers, with sturdy, worn black boots and thick socks. They’d taken her uniform, though they’d given her combadge back. Why, she didn’t know. It rested in the right pocket of her trousers. Felt good there. She slipped her hand in now and again just to feel it. Knowing she still had it made her feel better.
    Then she smiled a little. Probably make Gold feel better, too, her being so by the book, keeping “advanced technology” from the natives when all she wanted was to remind herself of a little bit of home. She tried hard, though, not to think about whether she’d ever get back. No point to it. Not yet anyway.
    She was breathing better. They’d given her some kind of mask: an adaptation of a re-breather, she figured, similar to what divers used but with a carbon scrubber. At least, that’s what the guard told her. As long as she kept the prongs fitted into her nostrils, her lungs didn’t burn, and she was comfortable enough. Her mouth still tasted like ash, though.
    There was a crunch of gravel, and then she turned and stood as Saad slipped out. His pistol was still in its black leather holster. Saad gave the guard a look then hooked a thumb over his shoulder. Obediently ducking his head, the guard slid into the caves and out of sight. Saad edged closer. His leather holster creaked on his hip. “I see that you’ve washed and changed. You’ve eaten?” When she shook her head, he asked, “Why not?”
    She decided honesty—and a little humor—might lighten things a bit. “I just wasn’t hungry. Figured that if you were going to kill me, somebody else could use the food more than me. That’s the way things work here, right?”
    That faint smile again. “You catch on quickly. Where did you say you were from again?”
    “I didn’t. Say, that is.” She quickly thought back over what she’d gleaned from the runabout’s sensors during those few chaotic moments that had happened only six hours ago and felt more like a century. “I come from very far north, another continent.” And please don’t ask me the name.
    “Ah,” was all Saad said. “Odd that you and your friends should wander this way. I know,”—he held up a hand when she opened her mouth—“I know. You were hiking. And they’ll be looking for you.”
    She clasped her hands behind her back, felt the straps of the re-breather pack dig into her shoulders. “So have you decided, or not?”
    “First, since you don’t seem to know anything about us, I need to explain a few things.” He waved her over to a hump of rock a meter long and flat on top. He sat, and indicated that she should sit as well. “I need you to understand why I’m going to do what I’m going to do.”
    Her heart fluttered against her caging ribs, like a trapped bird. “Okay,” she said, though it wasn’t at all.
    “You were surprised when I shot Apariam, the one with the belly wounds. You were more than surprised. You were outraged. And I thought to myself that, Saad, this is a woman who truly does not understand the Jabari, or any of the Outlier tribes. Or the Kornak.” His dark eyes slid to hers in a sidelong glance. They were only a half meter apart, and he was so close she caught his scent, a mixture of musk and sweat. “Truly amazing, that she doesn’t know.”
    “Know what?”