Chapter 39: 38: ADRENALINE

Adam followed the rebel through the side streets around the perimeter of the temple, heading toward the garden on the east side. He spotted City Hall as they ran, stately though crumbling in structure due to disrepair. The facility stretched down the avenue built, its architecture designed with the same column and arc style as the center of worship beside it. The building where, not so long ago, he’d planned to leave Talitha while he returned to search for survivors in the temple. A distant roar echoed through the cloudy skies as the CDFD cruiser crashed into the mountains of Kidish Pass.

Shit.

The temple loomed an eerie sight in the town square, its massive and impressive glass roof crushed to pieces. Parts of the exterior structure were missing in chunks, smoldering from repeated internal blasts. Adam traveled a few paces behind the stranger through streets that were empty save for the parasites shuffling in search of prey. A view of artificial hedges in a small garden maze lay ahead, lined with topiary statues, and the visual met Adam as he raced after the figure in black to return to a place he'd been so desperate to escape.

Instead of heading along the path to the east exit the rebel cut to the north, toward the side of the temple where the stage was located. Polymer leaves and fiber flowers brushed against Adam as they cut directly through a hedge itself and entered a dim area shielded by a tangle of branches above, the space littered with debris that had fallen from the temple's structure. A wall trellis decorated with clusters of drooping everlasting lilies and cardamom blossoms stretched far along the exterior wall toward the maze. The rebel walked toward the trellis and dug behind the joint of a linked section, pulling it open with some effort. A slim, dark passage was revealed and the rebel waved Adam forward.

"It's a straight path through," said the masked young man. "There's a concealed slip in the alcove at the rear of the stage where you can climb up and enter. The shaft down to Jackal’s tunnel system is a few meters past that. It’s all connected. That was the great plan."

Adam squinted with suspicion as he approached and stood a few paces away from the passage, raising the firearm again. He nudged the muzzle toward the entrance.

"Hey," he said to the shadowy figure. "You first, mate."

"I'm not sticking around for your big battle," retorted the rebel. "You’re an idiot and the whole damn area will be a pile of rubble before the witching hour. If the temple crumbles any further this passage will be gone too."

"Not asking for your support—just don't want to get shot in the back. Or the front. Prove you’re not another piece of shit trying to kill me."

The rebel snapped on a pair of goggles. "The input on the opposite side of the safety adjusts your caliber size. You're firing a modular projectile weapon. I don't see any magazines or tanks with you so the ore you're carrying is all you've got. Watch your gauges. Try not to miss." He turned toward the opening, moving inside first.

Adam glanced behind at the bordering hedges that concealed them in shadows before slipping inside the entrance after the rebel.

"…Thanks," he said.

The Silatem visor's display shifted to a green hue. Surfaces within the pitch black that enveloped Adam when he entered the passage became vivid in hyper-real coloring. He could see the rebel a few paces in front of him moving swiftly without pause and he picked up speed to stay close, his arm extending to the side, feeling that the passage they were in was a cramped one made of stone.

Several of the readings rapidly changed and blinked as they moved further into the temple and even without technical translation, Adam understood something was in the air around them. He could feel it against his flesh, a soft, warm buzzing like static electricity. That sensation was from…ether.

A sliver of light in the passage ahead made the rebel slow and turn around, holding up a hand to halt him. Adam stopped, still aiming the pistol.

"This is where you can climb up and exit to the stage." The rebel gestured at the peek of incoming illumination above. "It's a tight fit but you'll end up stage right. Ether's leaking so Jackal—and those parasites—will be more active than before."

"What are you going to do? Turn tail? Hide? You’ve come this far after trying to undo your damage. You must be planning another move."

"None of your fucking business. You're the one that wants to save the day, so go ahead and do it. I don't give a shit about you."

"Fine. Thanks."

Adam kept the muzzle raised at the rebel who backed away with hands held up in surrender, not drawing a weapon in return.

"It’s true," said the rebel. "You always get the girls. I guess it’s because you do crap like this. They’ll even come running into danger to rescue you. Have to admire that."

"Get the girls—" Recognition sparked in Adam from earlier in the night, when he'd stood with Gracie on the temple's front stairs. "You were there during the party. I saw you and your gang—and we had no clue. You…were the one who helped Gracie get inside."

"Good luck, Pender-shat," the shadowy figure cut him off. "Our alliance is officially over. Wouldn't want to be you right now, nuwa’ um."

The rebel disappeared, heading into the darkness of the passage. Adam continued aiming until he stood under the slit of the alcove, struck by both silence and the indistinct din of shuffling activity somewhere close.

A low shriek, a sound of monstrous frustration, tore through the strange quiet. Adam shifted his visor aside, glancing up at the movement on stage, and spotted blood drenching a cavernous wound gored through a brown-haired female's head. Her body was mangled, parts of her hanging in pieces from a brutal physical attack, and she appeared discolored and mutated by rampant infection.

She prowled near Adam without taking notice, walking a few shambling paces forward before stopping in her tracks and staring with sharp mouth hung open. Adam watched her for a moment—he recognized her brown hair and light yellow dress, now drenched with murky, black and red stains. The hole in her head—he remembered that too. She was the weeping female hostage Tamara, shot in the head and risen again.

He glanced back at the darkness of the tunnel before slipping out into the gap below the stage, hoisting himself up into the alcove to appear upstage by the stairs. The expanse of the rotunda lay before him and his gaze fell on the spot where he'd sat so long in terror, awaiting death that he was sure would come. Blood streaked the floor, a reminder of a nightmare that had transpired within another nightmare.

Shards of glass scattered the stage, fallen from Jackal's descent and crunching under Adam’s shoes. He peered at the parasites before turning his attention toward the cruiser landed in the middle of the rotunda, the size of it filling a majority of the main floor. Soft mists of rain pattered through the broken roof onto the vessel and lights flickered from various corners of the temple, stuttering unsteady illumination into the interior. Smoke and a smell of burning everything persisted from the damage to the rotunda.

The CDPD vessel, a sleek model built for high speed chases on land, sea, and the sky idled just meters away from the stage and the surrounding columns circling the floor, supporting what remained of the rotunda. Adam spotted a number of parasites wandering around the vessel, lit on fire and setting others ablaze whenever they bumped into each other. By some dark fortune, steady moisture from the falling mist of rain helped dampen the flames upon them.

He waited, watching the still and silent cruiser, the front window mirrored making it impossible to see inside. However if Jackal was there, it wouldn't take long for the rebel leader to notice a sentient stranger onstage among the parasites. A sensor reading on Adam’s visor shifted position with another, highlighted in color and remaining suspended over the rest. EXR—Adam remembered the symbol from Native Chemistry. That was the periodic symbol for the invisible element called ether, always floating around and through them, even in trace amounts.

Adam moved another few steps toward the edge of the stage after some quiet, peering between the creatures and the waiting CDPD cruiser. As he exited the alcove he felt rain strike the helmet and his bare arms. A flicker of light from the hallway circled the main floor and he glanced at it, noting a shuffling figure moving through the light before it disappeared into the haze of smoke.

He turned at the sound of a swift whoosh from the main floor—the sound of a cruiser door zipping opening—and raised his aim, goosebumps speckling his skin despite the muggy interior of the temple. The main deck remained exposed without movement as Adam sidled around a parasite near him. It was the same cruiser that attacked the retreating CDFD vessel, meaning Jackal—and Talitha—were inside. The only direction left for him to go.

A heavy thud stopped Adam in his tracks. He watched the cruiser, focusing on the window of vivid light emanating from within, and his visor focused on colored shapes within the vessel’s interior walls—the cruiser's display screens and control panels. A slip of movement—a dark figure—blocked his view of the equipment on the wall and disappeared as fast as he’d spotted it.

Adam’s finger tapped against the weapon guard. Nervous energy pricked him with anticipation, leaving him twitching and ready to pull the trigger back at the slightest wrong movement. He jumped when another sudden thud pounded against metal, slamming so sudden and loud that it echoed like a blast of heavy fire—a massive, resounding crash of metal against metal that echoed through the rotunda and pierced through Adam’s helmet. He pressed his lips tight, his mouth dry, and held still where he stood.

The ringing continued as Jackal's scimitar glinted against the side of the cruiser's frame. Screeching noise followed as the blade slid aside the body when the Sinum master slid out of the cruiser’s hyper-vivid illumination, a moving shadow against the white glow.

Adam shuffled a few tentative, involuntary steps back. The shadow hopped out of the cruiser amid the parasites, tilting his head back as if savoring his foul, olid odors of destruction. The shadow’s head moved and dark, pitless eyes honed in on Adam, never shifting once locked.

The muzzle of the Silatem pistol spiked upward. Adam settled his aim in Jackal's direction and focused on Jackal through the visor. The meters altered, still unintelligible to him but remaining persistent, and small dot buzzed over his display that he noticed, at last, was moving in the same pattern as his shaking grip. A synced view from the scope of his weapon.

He tried to stay steady as he stepped backwards, his expression furrowed within the helmet—the square and its indicators impossible to keep still. His heart seized when Jackal shoved a simmering parasite out of the way and advanced.

In a few rapid strides, so fast it seemed he glided through the air, Jackal reached the stage and hoisted himself up with ease. Adam stumbled as he darted away, twisting to face Jackal, and fired without thinking, zipping a projectile past Jackal's head. He heard an audible pop of contact when the bullet hit the rail of a balcony and Jackal chuckled, his laughter dark and empty.

"Adam," he said, voice rasping and low. "The transfer's complete. You raised arms against your brother and were prepared to kill or be killed, just as I desired. I’ve brought Talitha here as agreed, safe, whole, and…untouched. That was your desire. And here you are, a representative of Silatem, the final part of our barter." Jackal took slow, ambling steps toward Adam, who retreated. "I give her to you."

"Where is she?" barked Adam, his words hoarse as they emanated from the helmet. "Where did you put her?"

Jackal paused his slow approach, raising the scimitar in the direction of the CDPD cruiser. Adam's heart jumped again, fear stoking anew as he scanned a different weapon more than a meter long strapped to Jackal's back, something metallic and housing a projectile with a pointed tip. His gaze leaped back to Jackal, who still faced the cruiser.

"Your client’s waiting for you in that vessel,” said Jackal. “The keys to release her from the restraints are here.” He tapped a twined rope around his neck. “All you have to do is come and take them."

Adam's gaze ran across the length of rope and he stifled nausea at the sight of what looked like pieces of bone—segments of fingers with scraps of flesh still attached—dangling from the line. In the center hung three metallic rods with notched tips. He backed away another step when Jackal moved, bumping into a parasite behind him and hopping away, another jolt of fear sparking. He glanced quickly at the decaying host he’d struck before snapping his attention back to Jackal, who’d lowered the scimitar and burned a void-like stare into his.

"There's a timed explosive somewhere in that cruiser meant to activate once Silatem arrived, programmed with a countdown of five minutes. I chose that span of time since that's how long your disruptors last, an inside joke between friends. Well—I might be the only one laughing at that humor." Jackal shrugged. "Anyway. You're Silatem enough. The timer's started, leaving you approximately four and half more minutes to stop me, save the girl, and get far away from here."

"What?" Adam’s exclamation was involuntary—a desperate noise spurt from his chest. Jackal's words both made sense and didn't make sense at the same time. His eyes darted to the rope around the neck of a man more than a head taller than him before settling on the full figure of the wildland rebel. "That's not safe-whole-untouched—"

"Yes it is. She’s safe, whole, and untouched by me, now placed in your hands again." He chuckled again. "It's up to you to keep her that way, boy."

Jackal heaved the scimitar at Adam and the slash cleaved through the air with force. Adam barely leapt out of the way to evade as the sharp edge of the scimitar tore through the material of his vest, cutting into the resistant fiber. Adam fell to the ground in surprise.

Adrenaline jolted him to react as the immense shadow moved over him without pause, slamming the blade into the floor just as he collected himself enough to heave hims body aside. The point of the blade streaked across the stage surface toward him as he rolled away and he scrambled to get up, falling another time when Jackal's blade whizzed through the air above his head.

The blood on the stage was slick from the falling rain, speckled with sharp shards of glass from the shattered roof. Adam shoved himself sliding backwards through the wet splinters as Jackal came for him another time, raising his arms to aim the pistol. The firearm slammed into the flesh of his hands as he fired a stream of ammunition without pause.

One-two-three—six—

Jackal rushed—

Seven-nine—

The blade crashed through the air, a quick arc again. Adam shoved himself into another roll, propelling himself to stand until Jackal smashed the sole of a heavy boot into Adam’s hand with unnatural force before he could rise. The bones in the his hand snapped immediately against the pistol in his grip, splintering and tearing against his skin. A torrent of new agony melded with the ragged, curdling cry ripping from his lungs. Jackal’s boot dug deeper, crushing his fingers against the weapon and the broken glass beneath, before the warlord shifted his weight to drop a knee into Adam’s back in plummeting contact.

Air and blood huffed within Adam’s chest. All sense and all thought disappeared. Broken—he was broken. Fight was already over. A heavy hand forced his helmet to the side with overpowering strength, pinning his head to the ground, and his eyes stretched wide in terror behind the visor as Jackal’s blade sliced into the slip of exposed flesh beneath the base of the helmet, breaking skin.

Automatic gunfire pounded from the rear of the stage without rest. Jackal halted immediately and Adam felt the weight on him disappear. He groaned, spitting blood, and heaved as he released the pistol, holding up his gnarled, destroyed hand in front of his visor.

"Fuck—!" he cried.

The sound of Jackal's heavy steps moving fast across the stage knocked Adam back to sense and motion. Wincing at the sharp pains streaking everywhere, new ones cutting into his spine, he cradled his hand as he pushed himself back up with the other, his visor streaking to the side as he spotted a different snap of movement.

His jaw dropped as Jackal snatched hold of a figure in black—the same foreigner that led Adam into the temple—grabbing hold of either side of the traitor’s masked head and lifting the young man’s thrashing body off the ground as if he weighed nothing at all. Adam choked another time—this time on his own breath, his own blood, everything—as Jackal squeezed against the lenses of the rebel’s goggles, crushing shards deep into gelatinous masses of tissue beneath in a spurt of shooting red.

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Howls of torment echoed as Jackal dropped the rebel to the ground, watching as the young man convulsed violently on the stage, grabbing his face. Adam backed away, heaving against new pain and terror, and his functioning hand trembled as he touched the hilt of the hunting knife at his side.

"Three minutes, forty-six seconds," said Jackal. He reared his grip back on the scimitar and rammed the blade through the former rebel's head through the mask. "Less now as we exchange pleasantries. Time keeps ticking along, Adam. Come on." Jackal turned back around, wicking the wet blood from the blade aside with a quick snap. "You wanted to be the hero. Get to it."

Adam swallowed blood and fluid threatening to erupt from his mouth into the helmet. The metallic smell of his own fluid asphyxiated within his equipment. Insistent readings on the visor persisted as he focused on Jackal, holding his crushed hand close to his splitting chest. Despite the moisture around them the textured grip of the knife’s hilt felt secure in Adam’s hold—familiar too, even southpaw. Familiar years ago and still an old friend.

He shifted slowly, watching Jackal, his gaze scanning Jackal's shoulders, the point of Jackal’s blade, the angle of Jackal's stance—everything. Anything Adam could use to turn the tide back in his favor. Jackal had every advantage in their match and there were no ghostly game points for Adam to score, only his desperate need to survive Jackal’s next attack while looking for a way to end the matter. The rebel's death—Adam had to disregard at that moment, lest he be next if his attention was fixed on anything other than Jackal.

Time…kept ticking.

Jackal telegraphed his next strike with a shift of his torso and Adam narrowly evaded, a small advantage appearing within that move. Jackal’s immense strength—the warlord expelled excessive force while attacking. A half-second of recovery time followed the swing, followed by Jackal’s body telegraph, the rebel leader’s form following suit into the next blow. Exploiting that lag—and Jackal’s ego—would be Adam’s only way to survive.

Adam darted away from another cut from Jackal’s blade across his torso and darted back again with nimble speed, slashing at Jackal as he spun aside, feeling a break of flesh when he made a long incision of contact into Jackal’s striking bicep. A quick, carnal thrill of success struck Adam when he retreated, finding himself facing Jackal's back paces away after his blow. He watched, tense, as Jackal raised an arm in the air to study the leaking damage.

He rushed to strike a second time in the lag and Jackal whipped around as soon as he moved, heaving the scimitar at Adam with an audible hum. He leaped out of the way, senses accelerating to a fever pitch, real death haunting him from Jackal's encroachment. Adam saw everything—heard everything. Felt everything. The wild man ahead…one wrong move and he’d be dead in a terrible way. He had to win. He had…to win.

His gaze flitted to the keys around Jackal's neck as Jackal turned to face him once more. The persistent nudge of lapsing time forced Adam to higher desperation, hiis peripheral vision spotting the CDPD cruiser and assessing the proximity of the door that led inside.

Jackal rested the scimitar on his shoulder and waited, amused by the harrowing passage of time as soft rain pattered into the rotunda. Adam rotated the knife's hilt in his grip, relaxing as he changed stance, holding the knife out to switch to an offensive posture. Humor flashed on Jackal's rune-scrawled face at the tactic. A black, pitless stare followed Adam's advance.

“Still fighting. You really are a fool, just like your father. Like your brother. Like all the failures who fell before you. We haven’t yet begun, child. I’ll make you suffer.”

Adam remained silent. Watching.

In a quick snap of movement he lunged, feinting left then right, rushing close until he was a hair-width away from the wildlander before stopping short and freezing in place. Jackal watched Adam’s random maneuvers without reaction and a span of time passed where Adam didn’t move at all, staring at the scarred figure a pace before him, close enough to smell the blood-smeared stench of collected death emanating from the wraith. Jackal swiped at last with the scimitar, however Adam was ready. He dropped low at the immediate spark of Jackal’s motion, jabbing his blade into the Jackal’s naked abdomen, tearing through leathered flesh as he charged past the wildlander.

He withdrew and retreated, putting more distance between them, however Jackal responded with unfathomable speed in return for his strike, moving too fast again for Adam to process with any human sense. Jackal snatched him by the throat and jerked him off the ground as if he weighed nothing at all, the void-like expanse of the black native stare boring through Adam’s visor, somehow finding his gaze inside the protective shielding. Insistent gauges and readings blinked from the helmet’s sensors, warning Adam that something in his line of vision required immediate attention to subdue.

Jackal squeezed, choking him, and raised the scimitar to ram it through his body. He jammed his knife upward into Jackal's forearm and tore the sharp blade toward him with fluid ease, feeling another clean rip of flesh following the point as he jerked without mercy. He twisted the blade into Jackal's wrist, digging in as deep as he could manage to rip apart whatever was in reach and feeling his own strain in his effort. His eyes stretched wide. He struggled for air, The scimitar heaved toward his protective vest and he tasted blood again. He kept destroying, blinded to everything except his need to inflict pain, until the moving parts of what kept Jackal’s grip tight on him failed.

Massive damage tearing apart the tendons in Jackal's arm forced an involuntary release and Adam dropped back to the stage in a snap with a crash. He hurled himself to the edge of the stage before he’d even allowed his confusion to settle, senseless as he evaded another crushing blow of Jackal’s scimitar against the surface, feeling the vibration of the strike as he rolled off the platform and plummeted into the crowd of shuffling parasites below. A flicker of flame burning on a body near him jolted him anew. He leaped away from the burning host, breaking into a run, charging toward the CDPD cruiser.

Adam heard the weight of the rebel leader drop to the main floor, following him as he ran. The door was shut and Adam scoured the exterior as he neared, searching for controls that would open the way inside. His gaze fell on a display panel colored with the CDPD insignias emblazoned over the craft and he rushed toward it, reaching out with his arm to trigger the sensors.

Jackal’s scimitar slammed against the body of the cruiser before he could make contact and the sound of metal against metal reverberated against the vessel, echoing inside the opened rotunda. Adam glanced behind to find Jackal in quick pursuit and he sprinted away, shoving undead bodies aside and circling around toward the cruiser’s stern.

A resonant voice emanated from the other side of the vessel—Jackal's voice singing another native chant with booming volume. Adam froze as the parasites around him stirred with attention, as if listening to Jackal’s chant too. His helmet swerved aside at the low hiss of a parasite to his right along with another growl of hunger before him. An indicator on the visor flashed red and he bolted without pause—the parasites could see him. No analysis was needed from the helmet’s sensors to know he was fucked.

Adam barreled back toward the stage, shoving away a parasite that lunged at him as he ran. His gaze fell on the Silatem pistol still on the surface where he'd been forced to release it and a quick glance behind revealed Jackal standing beside the cruiser, the parasites moving past the inked form to head right toward Adam. The parasites on stage sparked to life as well and instinct propelled Adam to act fast. He sheathed the knife back in his belt to free his remaining hand, swinging his wounded arm upward as an anchor to hoist himself to the stage.

Parasites clamored towards him as he heaved his body upward, the creatures emitting high shrieks as he snatched the pistol back into grip with no time to think or aim. He fired at every mass he could see, adjusting for his reversed attention as he blasted them backwards. Once the parasites to his right reached him he switched aim, holding them off as well with expulsions of repeated fire.

Jackal's singing permeated his frantic focus, warning him find a way to shift the odds. His thumb slid across the input the rebel advised to adjust the caliber and engaged it several times—a change that seemed to be captured through the pistol’s sync with the helmet, although the meaning was lost to Adam within the nonstop scroll of information.

The parasite nearest him on stage—the brown-haired girl Tamara—leaped at him with arms outstretched, snarling. Adam squeezed the trigger fast, loosing a new projectile, and huffed in shock as the pistol jerked hard in his hand and almost fell out of his hot grip. A powerful blast struck the girl with a bang and she burst to pieces, the force knocking her splattered form back along with those immediately behind her down in an audible sizzle.

Adam glanced at the pistol and then at the remains of the fallen group for a split second before turning his attention back to the wildlander, whose singing ceased after the blast. The parasites stopped as well, freezing where they stood without focus.

Jackal moved again and Adam leaped off of the stage, glancing at the parasites as he ran towards the cruiser. He circled the opposite way, counter-clockwise from the door leading into the vessel, and charged toward the stern again. As he reached the rear Jackal's dark form moved into his line of sight, blocking his path ahead.

He raised the pistol and fired, the increased caliber jerking the weapon in his grip like before and sending him stumbling backwards into a nearby wandering parasite. Fear jolted when Jackal easily evaded the heavy blast in a flicker of unseen movement, the projectile striking the side of the armored CDPD cruiser with a metallic boom.

Adam retreated around the bow with Jackal close behind, pausing mid-run to flip around and charge at the wildlander instead. All breath sucked out of him when he sprinted toward the shadow and from the quick jostle of Jackal's head Adam knew, immediately, that he'd surprised the rebel with the change. Instinct tilted the weapon upward and he fired, blasting Jackal high and square in chest with a surge of gouging, crackling ammunition. The powerful force sent Adam barreling backwards and his back struck the side of the vessel as he steadied himself, a fleeting sense of victory rising and falling in him when he spotted Jackal on the ground.

He hurried back to the warlord and his gaze traveled quickly over the mess of black-red fluid drenching Jackal's opened torso, his task refocused in his mind. Another minute, likely more, had passed during that exchange of a battle and the seconds continued ticking by much too fast. Adam cradled his shattered hand to his chest and holstered the pistol, removing the blade to crouch beside Jackal’s blood-spattered, ink-branded form. He dug the blade under the rope holding the keys and snapped the knife upward with effort, sawing through the twine. The finger bones rattled as they fell off of Jackal’s neck and the sight was more ominous now that Adam had lost use of his own. He snatched the mess into his palm, jumping back to his feet, and hurried back to the cruiser’s entry door.

Parasites resumed their idle wandering, growling to themselves as he pushed past. A touch against the unit and a few taps on the basic command functions zipped the door open, revealing hyper-vivid illumination from the panels within. Rain struck his body as he hurried inside, closing the door behind him as he shouted for Talitha.

"Li!" he yelled, his strangled voice amplified through the helmet as he hurried through the vessel’s compartments. "Li! Where are you—? Shit! Please!"

He raced toward the rear of the cruiser and engaged every panel he saw. The interior was familiar—the same as when he and Talitha were picked up by the sergeant. Adam charged toward the rear where they'd been detained and his heart leaped in chest when he found the seats they’d sat in earlier filled with something—or rather, someone else. Someone motionless, as a bloodied and crumpled corpse of a female tallied with dark, angry tire marks from vessel’s land function running over her mangled form. He spotted dark hair, dark bulging eyes, that her angel costume had been replaced by stained CDPD gear—the mess before him was the woman from the party, Jackal's woman, the one who’d cut Talitha and fed Talitha’s blood to Jackal. The sight of her, ugly that way, destroyed in a savage method…it was fine. It was good.

It was satisfying.

Adam left the grizzled visage behind and hurried in the opposite direction toward the bridge. The keys jostled in his sweaty hand. An internal timer marked minutes—seconds—that he didn't have. He yelled for Talitha again.

”Li!”

A slam against the control panel opened the next partition as well. His heart sank because no one was there either.

His gaze raced around at all the radars, compasses, and equipment used to operate the cruiser. A muted pounding sound against the floor caught his attention and he circled around the seats, following the noise. Happiness swept him when he spotted the red-haired back of a female’s head and he dashed forward, dropping to a knee beside her seat.

Talitha.

The joy quickly vanished once he spotted how she was restrained tightly to her seat with animal control chains, her flesh already bruised and bloody and turning blue from the squeezing hold, the jacket he’d placed on her earlier tattered and colored with red.

Blood-shot, gold-flecked eyes met his and her crusted, split mouth moved with frantic, silent words. Sense sparked back to Adam and he lay the knife aside, shaking himself back to work and rustling the keys from Jackal's rope.

"The keys," he rambled, his voice trembling from the rush of overwhelming energy. "There's bones—he was holding bones. Human bones. He broke my hand. It’s fucked—see? I can’t use it. Everything hurts—everything. Be fast. Please."

He exhaled again, forcing himself to keep in control before freeing the three metallic keys from the bundle. A rapid inspection of the roped chains revealed flat locks with slits and controlled, repetitive trials of each key against the first lock resulted in success. Adam felt it release when the key slipped into the slot to engage the circuitry within. Talitha freed her hand and circled her sore wrist to restore blood flow as he looked at her golden gaze again.

"Help me. Okay? There’s no time at all. You get one, I’ll get the other."

He handed her a key. They tested each against the remaining locks. The order was wrong so they switched, Talitha's fingers brushing nimbly against his as they traded. Adam found the lock for the chain around her middle and released her from that too.

The chains fell and he ripped them away, tossing them behind him with a clatter. He reached over to help her with the final restraint and within moments she was free from the chair. Relief washed Adam as he drew her up from the seat, helping her keep balance as she buckled from faintness. Her hand rested on his chest and she glanced up at him, fearful eyes wide and full of tears.

The sight of her stirred him and he ripped the helmet off of his head, exposing his grimace, panting as he gazed at her. A pair of seconds passed before he drew her face to his, hesitating only for a moment before pressing his mouth hard against hers. Cascades of crazed emotion erupted when he felt Talitha return the kiss with equal fervor, her fingers clutching tight to keep him close, chapped lips parting to caress his. He wrapped her firmly in his embrace, lids drifting closed, and six years more dear and real to him filtered into the moment. The sensation was overpowering, as amplified as the adrenaline coursing inside him now.

They separated, still close, and he grazed a touch against her cheek, exhaling heavy when her beaten face nestled into his palm, the golden gaze peering at him with wavering fragility. Mottled in blood and sunken from the wear of the nightmare, he found her beautiful, maybe more than ever because she was there. Talitha, as lovely as she’d looked at the fundraiser, pretty and cute no matter what. Sweet, like always.

She looked away after a moment, lowering her head, and he tucked her hair behind her ear, guiding her face back to his. He pressed his lips to hers another time and his voice was low, choked from a rush that was hard to contain.

“I came back for you—just for you. You mean more to me than…than anything. I’m…in love with you.”

Jackal's scimitar crashed against the side of the CDPD cruiser and jolted them into new fear, their moment dispelled as their attention swerved back to the partition leading to the vessel's main deck. Adam snatched the knife from the floor and sheathed it, pushing Talitha behind him as he withdrew the pistol from his holster.

"Fucker’s up already," he spat, voice ragged. "He should be down. Left a huge hole in his chest—that’s better than a fucking stake. Better! He was wrecked. He should be down!"

Fear spiked as the door to the cruiser zipped open. Adam heard Jackal's weight re-enter the vessel and he rushed forward to block the wildlander, aiming the pistol at the inked form. The large cavity he'd left in Jackal's chest remained but that didn't seem to slow the Sinum master down at all. A creature stood before Adam—a monster. Not a man, not a holy blessing for the planet, and no different than every other mutated bloodsucker that had tried to take him out so far. Uglier, too.

Jackal paused to watch Adam pull the trigger with no result before he slammed a fist into Adam, knocking him to the ground. Adam reeled, struggling to get back up, gasping as he spotted Jackal returning to where Talitha had fled to cower. He scrambled after the rebel leader in rage, mind still spinning from the hit.

"Fuck you!" he roared, charging back into the cockpit. He spotted Jackal seize a fistful of Talitha's disheveled hair and yank her forward. "Don't touch her! I'll kill you!"

Adam drew the knife again and lunged at Jackal, ramming the blade into the back of the warlord’s rune-inked neck. Jackal turned to face him, wrenching Talitha around by the hair, and seized hold of Adam by the throat with a clamping grip. Adam struggled as Jackal lifted them both off the ground, his eyes bulging as he stared into the black of Jackal's stare. Breath suffocated from his lungs and his mind blared insistent messages like the helmet’s visor, warning him of fatal danger.

The door to the cruiser zipped open and another rapid shuffle of movement entered. New gunfire erupted, blasting into Jackal, stopping when Jackal spun around to face the intruders. Adam registered quickly a blurred sight of armor…of visored helmets, and…and weapons. Those were men—men from Silatem.

No relief at the sight of hunters was possible, however. Jackal flung Adam at them and he crashed hard into armor with a clatter of limbs, knocking the hunters back in surprise. Confusion rattled Adam for a moment but the reminder of Talitha's gentle affection, as well as the presence of a menace set on ruining everything that was good, shocked him into full alert.

He was up again fast, though he found that the hunters from Silatem were already heading right for Jackal.

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