Eyes Ever to the Sky (A Sci Fi Romance) (The Sky Trilogy) (28 page)

He pulled her onto the bank a quarter mile from the bridge. How long since they'd plunged under? A minute? Two? Her legs dragged deep furrows in the mud as he nestled her body between rocks and cattails. He pressed his ear to her mouth. Nothing. He locked his fingers together and positioned them over her breast bone. At least those alien bastards had programed him with CPR. He started compressions, hoping to God he didn't crush her ribs. “Please,” he muttered. He couldn't breathe. Not until she did.

She gasped, coughing and opened her eyes, blinking droplets of water away that clung to her eyelashes. Her lips were purple and puckered, her skin pasty white but for two roses on her cheeks. When her eyes fell on him, she slowly lifted her trembling lips into a smile.

“
You did it.” She weakly brushed a strand of hair from her face.

Hugh let out a huge sigh. Then he leaned down and kissed her long and hard.

CHAPTE
R FORTY-TWO — CECE

Friday 7:34 a.m.

Her whole body felt like it had been dragged through a trash compactor, but she was alive and Hugh was kissing her. It was one of the best moments of her life.

He pulled back, his chest heaving, his t-shirt clinging to him, revealing every muscle. Though her brain was still soggy, warmth puddled in her stomach as she gazed on him: the flat abs, the curving pecs that rose and fell as he breathed. Then the pain in her wrist found her. She moaned and drew her arm to her chest.

Hugh's face flooded with concern. “Are you hurt? What can I do?”

“You...saved my life,” she breathed. “That's plenty for now.” She drew a slow smile onto her face, though the pain was overpowering. She slid onto her elbows and looked around. They were on a muddy river bank. Her clothes were streaked with muck and soaked straight through. Seaweed tangled around one sneaker. She wouldn't be wearing these clothes again.

The bridge strung across the water in the distance. No one could see them from here. Her eyes searched the sky. No sign of Nomad.

Hugh followed her eyes up. “He's gone. I can feel it.”

Cece nodded, no longer needing to ask how he knew. All she felt was relief. That, and her throbbing wrist. She eyed it like it might bite her.

Hugh reached out and touched the swollen, purple wrist with one gentle finger. “He did this?”

Cece nodded.

His face twisted into rage. “I'll kill him,” he said through his teeth.

She reached up and caressed his cheek with her good hand, his stubble deliciously rough under her fingertips. “Just take me back.”

***

They stood hand in hand at the back entrance of Lizzy's. The drab yellow paint looked like bile in the hazy mid-morning sun. A cloud slunk across the sun, plunging them into sudden darkness and Cece shivered. Was it the dunk in the lake, the shock from her broken wrist? Or was it something else, some premonition of what was to come?

Hugh's brow furrowed in worry. He reached for her again. “We have to get you to a doctor.”

Cece shook her head. They had stopped at Fer's, too worried about the cops to go home. Fer was gone, apparently already at work, but Shaun was home. He had dug out clean clothes and Vicodin. With the pain at least numbed and her wrist wrapped she could bear it. 

Cece's stomach twisted into sailor's knots. She only hoped the plan she'd cooked up on the flight over would work. Mama counted on it. She would march into Lizzy's and demand Michelle call her father and have him drop the charges. And if Michelle refused? Well, she'd threaten to tell Gage that Michelle went out with Travis. It might make Travis's life hell for a little bit, but Mama was rotting in a jail cell. She couldn't take it any longer.

Once Mama was safe, then what? Well, then they'd have to figure out what to do about Nomad. One thing at a time. She looked up at Hugh and he gave her a reassuring smile. She rubbed her thumb against his palm, savoring the smoothness.

“I'll be right here,” he said, in a hushed whisper.

It was the encouragement she needed. She pulled the door open and walked in.

On two stools near the order window, Fer and Travis looked like they'd been up all night: Travis's hair angled wildly and Fer sported her same Sponge Bob pajama pants. Steam curled from a convenience store coffee cup on the counter. For two sleep-deprived teens, they sure looked tense.

“
It's your fault she ran off with that killer,” Fer was saying.

Travis shook his head. “Well, you let her go the first time.”

“It's your damn girlfriend's fault that her mom's in lockup.”

Travis blushed. “She's not my girlfriend, and maybe it wasn't Michelle who called.”

Fer rolled her eyes. “Oh please. Because of Michelle, Cece's mom is in jail and then
you
let Michelle try to choke her out in your living room. Now Cece's God-knows-where and the killer's probably getting ready to slice and dice as we speak. We need to find her. Now.”

Travis shook his head back and forth sadly. “I called everyone we know.”

Fer shook her head. “Not good enough.” She held out her cellphone to Travis. “Call Michelle and tell her to get her dad to organize a search party.”

Travis eyed the phone. “I don't…think it'll be that easy.”

Cece stepped into the room. “Travis, it's okay. You don't have to call anyone.”

Fer ran over and crushed Cece with a hug. “I thought you were dead.” Her eyes found Hugh standing in the doorway. “What's he doing here?” she said, stiffening.

Travis bolted upright, his stool clattering to the floor. 

Cece shook her head. “Guys, please, he's not a killer. You gotta believe me.” 

Travis opened this mouth to respond when a horrible ripping noise cut through the ice cream shop. Everyone turned toward the back door. They watched in horror as the door separated from the back wall.

Concrete popped and metal screamed as the back door splintered out of its hinges and crashed into the alley. Debris shifted through the light now pouring in from the hole. Two shapes stepped into the void. The first thing Cece noticed was the claws—black scimitars six inches long on paws the size of a grizzly's. Then she took in the beast: seven feet tall, a wall of muscle, the shaggy mane of fur behind the horrible, knotty skull. And those eyes, red and reptilian, that seemed to zero in on her. She stopped breathing.

Beside her, Fer started to scream.

Nomad stepped in, ignoring the screams. He walked around the beast like one would his faithful dog and looked at Hugh. Nomad's eyes were almost sad as he addressed him.

“I tried, Jopari. I tried to tell you what a mess you were making. Now the top brass says this is the way it goes down.” Nomad looked at Cece and then the beast. “I tried to warn you.”

Hugh moved in front of Cece, a wall of muscle and will. “Nomad, listen to me. I'll go. I'll leave with you and the beast right now. No one has to get hurt.” Hugh's arms tightened. Even from behind she could see his chest heaving.

Nomad nodded. “Yeah, we'll go.” He turned to the beast. “Do what you what you were ordered.”

The beast turned toward Cece and opened its mouth, saliva dripping down its fangs hungrily.

Then it charged.

CHAPTER F
ORTY-THREE — HUGH

Friday 9:06 a.m.

Hugh had just enough time for terror to flood his body. He watched the beast surge forward, giant leg muscles pumping, eyes dilating. Then he dove into the beast's path.

Their bodies collided like a head-on car crash. There was a crunch in his neck and instant pain. His fingers found fur and grabbed on. The two spilled into the hallway, skidding, denting the far wall. Ceiling tiles raining down in chunks of white. An elbow cracked into Hugh's skull, then claws sunk into his bicep. The white hot flare of pain. Hugh wrapped his arms around the beast's and locked them in a bear hug.

Cece. Where was she?

They grappled, the thing rolling, lurching to escape. It slammed them into the freezer, sending the hunk of metal smashing into a far wall. Its matted mane was in his face, gagging him. The smell was terrible, like a long dead animal. The beast's arms flexed over and over again as it attempted to break Hugh's grip. Though his muscles burned like hell, Hugh held on like a cowboy at his last rodeo.

“Get…out!” he shouted at the humans. All he could see was a shaggy mane of fur and scaly shoulders, but he knew they were standing somewhere behind him, gaping. His grip was already loosening, fingers slipping like a climber on a cliff's edge. A shoulder mashed into Hugh's jaw, his head snapping back. Hot blood filled his mouth. Something wet and stringy dripped on Hugh's arm as the beast tossed its head back and forth. It growled and shook. Hugh's fingers slipped another notch. He had to get these humans out.

Cece ran over. “Hugh!” she screamed. She grabbed a metal ice cream scoop from the counter and whacked the beast in the head. It shook and turned toward her, its eyes searching.

“Run!” he shouted, spitting mane from his mouth. The beast clawed against the floor, nails scratching the tile, pushing both their bodies backward.  Hugh locked his fingers, but he knew he had only seconds left. The beast placed his paw on Hugh's thigh and dug downward. Claws sliced into the meat of his thigh. More pain. Hugh ignored it. The beast would go for Cece. It would go for the kill.

“
Run, Cece! Please!” His fingers slid apart. He searched the room for her, behind the mane of hair that pressed into his face. She was there at the door, staring at him, fear etched into her face. Fer tugged at her arm, but she pulled away. She stopped, staring. Hugh pleaded with his eyes.
Go!
He couldn't watch the beast tear into her. He opened his mouth to speak, but the beast jammed an elbow into Hugh's ribs. His breath tore out of his throat, pain tightening his torso. He flexed his arms to the breaking point. He'd hold this thing until they were torn off if that's what it took.

A scream tore from the doorway. Hugh snapped his head around. Nomad stood, bathed in light with Cece clamped in his arms.

Nomad stepped into the destroyed ice cream shop. His fingers tightened around Cece's bare arm, puckering her flesh. “Let him go,” Nomad said coolly, “or I crush her right here in front of you.” Nomad squeezed until Cece gasped in pain.

“
Okay, okay,” Hugh said. He couldn't think. Cece's cries of pain echoed in his head. He released his arms. The beast rolled away and stood, panting, claws out, eyes wild. Hugh backed away slowly with his hands up. “Let Cece go,” he said, flicking his eyes between his enemies.

Nomad shook his head, smiling as he tightened his grip. Cece's face twisted in pain. She locked eyes with Hugh.

“Stop it!” Hugh shouted, striding forward. His arms were wrenched behind his back. The beast had him. Hugh struggled, but the beast's arms were iron. Its scaly chest pressed into Hugh's back. 

Nomad held his ground. “Why wouldn't you listen to me when I told you to stay away from her in the first place, Jopari?” 

Hugh stared into Cece's face. She stared back, her brown eyes filling with tears. “Don't worry about me,” she whispered.

“
I will” he said, his voice trembling. “I will always worry about you.”

“
Enough.” Nomad narrowed his eyes. They were dark and hallow.

Hugh slumped in the beast's arms. “Fine,” he whispered. He looked up at Cece. Her eyes pleaded with him to make this all better. His heart was crumbling like a brittle sandcastle, but he knew what he had to do. He sucked in a shuttering breath and looked up at Nomad. “Okay. Let's go. No tricks this time.”

Nomad released his grip on Cece. She sagged as if the wind had been sucked from her sails. Slumped on the tile, she lifted pleading eyes to Hugh. He turned away and bore the pain.

“
Give me your wrists,” Nomad said, pointing. Hugh complied. Nomad snapped on thick cuffs made of some shimmering metal material. “Try to wiggle all you like,
compadre
. They're Cartharian steel, strong enough to hold the likes of you ten times over.” Nomad nodded toward the door. “Now let's go before the 5-0 get here.”

Hugh turned and followed Nomad. He told himself not to, but he stole one last look at Cece. It was like someone digging out his heart with their hands. She sat, slumped on the floor, mud-caked sneakers tucked under her, hair trailing in front of her face. Tears snaked down both cheeks. “Hugh.” She lifted a hand, reaching for him. 

Hugh choked back the sadness that threatened to engulf him. She'd be safe. Her mother would be free. She'd be better off without him. He wouldn't hurt her anymore.

He turned to Nomad. “Can I say goodbye?”

Nomad shook his head and continued to press Hugh toward the door. “It's best if we just go. Don't make this suck any harder. If we hurry, we can catch a corn dog on the way.”

“
What about that...that thing?” Hugh craned his neck as Nomad shoved him into the alley. Hugh's eyes found the dumpster, the first place he'd seen her, and another wave of depression threatened to bury him. He dropped his head. He'd get back to her. Somehow he'd—