Free Push by Eve Silver Page B

against my wound. At first I feel nothing. Then I do. I grit my teeth, but a groan leaks out.
    “Press,” she orders, laying my hand on the wadded shirt and pushing my fingers flat.
    I press.
    She grabs her weapon and another off the ground, one that a downed Drau must have dropped, and bounds to her feet. Only then do I realize that the battle kept going without us. That her team members are still warding off the Drau attack. I don’t even have enough strength to turn my head and look for them. She spins and fires, double-handed. Again. Again.
    “Hang on,” she calls to me over her shoulder. And then, “. . . Going to lose it if . . .” The rest of her words are lost as she moves to fight off another two Drau.
    My blood leaks through the makeshift pad, leaving my fingers warm and slick. I have the crazy thought that this isn’t like they show on TV where the guy with his gut ripped open leaps to his feet and battles the bad guy to the glorious end. I won’t be doing any leaping anytime soon; I don’t think my feet would hold me.
    I have the bizarre urge to laugh and laugh.
    I want to close my eyes and sleep.
    So weak. So tired.
    I force my eyes open and will myself to stay awake. I turn my wrist and look at my con. More red than orange. Not good.
    Footsteps, moving fast. I turn my head to see Luka running toward me. Behind him are Lien and Kendra and Tyrone.
    The girl who saved me turns around. A Drau steps out of a corridor behind her. She doesn’t see it. She doesn’t know it’s there.
    I scream, but the only sound that comes out is a gasp.
    She can’t die. Not like this. I owe her.
    I lift my hand. The weapon cylinder feels like it weighs a thousand pounds.
    I fire.
    I miss, the Drau moving so fast I never stood a chance.
    The girl never stood a chance.
    But before it can take her down, a thousand droplets of light rain over it. The Drau falls, writhing, hurt but not dead, a speckling of dark spots marking the places it was hit.
    I don’t know who made that shot. I’m too slow turning my head and by the time I do, there’s no one there.
    The girl sweeps my sword off the ground, lunges, and pins the Drau through the chest. It arches, shudders, lies still. She tosses my sword down beside me and takes off down the corridor, chasing after a blur of light—a fleeing Drau. She pours on speed. But the Drau are so fast. She shouldn’t be able to catch it. . . .
    They turn a corner and they’re gone.
    “Miki!” Luka drops and slides across the floor to my side. He jerks my fingers out of the way, and makes a low sound as he stares at my wound. Then he puts the wadded T-shirt back in place, layers his palms, right on left, and presses hard. I scream. Really scream.
    “I’m sorry.” His jaw clenches, but he doesn’t ease up. “You’re bleeding out. I need to put pressure. I need to keep you alive.”
    “Two Drau. Two o’clock,” Tyrone snarls, his weapon belching black death.
    Lien and Kendra zip forward. Lien’s faster, her weapon aimed and steady, but she doesn’t fire. It’s Kendra who takes both Drau down.
    “I had it, but thanks for the help,” Tyrone says. He sounds angry, and the way he said thanks made it sound like he meant anything but.
    I want to ask him why, but I can’t find the strength. I’m tired. Weak. My side hurts. I pull at the edge of the pad Luka’s pressing down on my wound. The whole thing is sticky, even the edge I’m tugging at.
    My head falls back against the concrete floor. I stare at the corrugated metal ceiling, trying to breathe through the pain. My eyes drift shut. I exhale, but can’t seem to find a way to inhale again.
    Jackson’s there. I feel his cheek against my lips, then his lips on mine, warm, smooth. His breath is my breath. My lungs fill.
    I love you.
    Did I say that, or did he?
    “Breathe, Miki. Come on! Breathe!”
    With a gasp I open my eyes. Luka’s above me, his face inches away.
    “Okay,” he says, his voice ragged. “Okay, she’s