Free An Apocalyptic Need by Sam Cheever Page A

tightened, going numb, and he started to fear that he’d drop her. Then the energy constricted, closing like a vice over his chest, and the world went black.
     
    Grimm woke when they slammed against something hard and sank to the floor. Cari sprawled over him, her strawberry-blonde hair drifting softly over his face. She was moaning softly.
    Something poked his leg and he twitched, the movement sending him into residual spasms. The smell of dill pickles had him wrinkling his nose and he forced one eye open.
    An enormous pair of feet were inches from his face, the wide toes covered in spiky black hairs.
    “I am surprised to see you again, hunter Grimm.”
    Grimm shoved a silky blonde lock of hair off his cheek and tried to sit up. “Why do your feet smell like dill pickles, healer?”
    The little creature shoved the tall, conical hat off his wide forehead and smiled, showing large, crooked teeth. “I enjoy a good ham salad, hunter. Would you care to join me for lunch?”
    Grimm grasped Cari’s arms and carefully moved her aside so he could stand. “Eat something that had your feet in it? I think I’ll pass.”
    The gnome chuckled.
    Grimm slipped his arms under Cari’s legs and shoulders. “I need you to help her.”
    The healer’s smile slid away and Grimm knew what was coming. It was bargaining time. Gnomes never did anything unless they got something in return. Grimm fought the urge to yell and waited.
    “Why would I expend energy on this one?”
    “I’ll give you a boon.”
    The little man shrugged and turned, shuffling across the scarred wooden floor of his lair. The ragged edge of his robes swayed with his wide behind, occasionally catching in splintered spots on the floor. The gnome’s carelessly braided hair was twice as long as he was and it trailed along behind him as he headed for the tiny kitchen. “You have no power, hunter. Nothing to bargain with.”
    Grimm fought exasperation and offered the only thing he had of any worth. And the worst possible thing he could offer. “I’ll let you draw blood from me.”
    The healer stopped, his small body going rigid, and slowly turned. “How many times?”
    “How many will it take for you to heal her?”
    “What is her healing worth to you?”
    Grimm expelled a breath, looking toward the floor as he fought to overcome his temper. “Three times. I’ll let you draw blood from me three times.”
    The healer held Grimm’s gaze a moment longer and then nodded. “You’ll give me a fourth time. Later. Upon my request.”
    Grimm spoke between gritted teeth. “Deal.”
    The healer motioned toward the long metal tables in the adjoining room. His laboratory. “Lay her down in there. I must mix my potions.”
    ~AN~
     
    Cari awoke to the sound of horribly off-key humming. She lay there a minute, her eyes closed, trying to figure out why she didn’t hear the grind and pull of the ship’s motors. Her quarters were right above the second engine room and she’d fallen asleep every night since boarding the Stellam to the low rumble of the fore engines groaning away the star miles.
    The humming was almost like the sound of those engines. But it was too warbly and nasal to be mechanical.
    Who would be humming in her quarters?
    Her mind tried to home in on a response, but her body was soft with weariness and all she wanted to do was sleep.
    Slap, slap, slap.
    Cari twitched, her eyelids fluttering open finally at the meaty sound of feet hitting the floor. The scene her blurry gaze gradually showed her was beyond strange. So much wood. So much light. She squinted against the unaccustomed illumination and the nearly blinding greenery beyond the windows.
    There was heat too. Smoky heat that made her feel like she was in the center of a campfire on Luminous One , the fire planet where they once went to stock up on carbon for the Stellam’s backup engines.
    Cari tried to sit up and cried out with pain. Her back was tight and sore. A fresh spear of agony jolted through