means—”
“The Boss is coming back!”
Cheers erupt.
Three
2522:191
Not good. Not good at all. Remembering the purple fire that danced on my skin and stopped my heart, I wrap my arms around my chest.
“We should tell The Boss she’s here,” one burly looter says.
“Back to your cells, now,” Zaim orders, aiming his pulse gun at the big man.
Instead of obeying, the man surges toward Zaim, dragging his partner with him. Ho shoots, but the pulse goes wide and Burly slams Zaim into the wall hard enough to knock him unconscious.
The rest of the prisoners cheer and rush toward the three remaining security officers. Shocked by the speed and intensity of the attack, I’m rooted to the floor. Niall curses and grabs for his gun. But he’s not in uniform.
All my training dissolves into a jumble in my mind, but I step forward anyway. I have to help.
Niall grabs my arm, holding me back. “Reinforcements are coming.”
“How do—”
He tilts his head at the cameras. “Rance is on duty and he’ll sound the alarm, alerting the rest of the team.”
“But—”
“Stay here.” Niall rushes in to help the officers.
Sizzles from the pulse guns add to the cries and bellows. A few looters go down, taking their partners with them, but four of the pairs are now fighting hand to hand with the officers—two to one. Or in Bendix’s case, four to one. The weapons have fallen to the floor. At least the guns can’t be used by the looters. But they can’t be used by us either as they’re each set to only one person’s electromagnetic signature.
The sizzles of multiple pulse guns crack through the air. Stunned, looters drop to the floor until no one is left standing except the officers and Niall. Lined up on the other side of the fallen prisoners are Radcliff, Morgan, Beau, and Rance. All are pointing their weapons at the prisoners. When no one moves, they lower them. Morgan and Rance are in uniform, but Beau is wearing a tight T-shirt and a pair of pajama pants. He must have been on call.
The other officers recover from the fight. Ho presses a hand to his nose, trying to staunch the flow of blood. Examining her torn and bloody shirt, Elese curses. Bendix leans against the wall. And poor Zaim is still out cold.
Radcliff quickly takes charge, ordering Morgan to call a medic, sending Rance back to monitor the cameras, having Beau check on Zaim, asking us to explain what happened. Niall tells him what sparked the fight. Radcliff focuses on me and the desire to melt into the floor flushes through me. I brace for his anger.
Instead, Radcliff says to us, “Return to your units, I’ll talk to you both later.”
“Yes, sir,” we say in unison and bolt.
But once we’re out of sight, Niall takes my hand. I slow as the realization that it was all my fault catches up to me. The prisoners thought I’d be a way to gain their freedom. They cheered at the prospect of Jarren returning to kill me.
Niall stops and turns to me. “You’re shaking.”
“I am?” Sure enough my muscles are trembling.
“Don’t listen to them,” he says, pulling me into a hug. “There’s no way they can contact Jarren. He won’t find out you’re alive.” Niall leans back and meets my gaze. “The Protector Class ship will be here in six hundred and forty days. And you’re surrounded by security.”
Who were almost overwhelmed. And who Jarren got the drop on. Twice. But I wisely keep those thoughts to myself. Plus I’ve already figured out that Jarren will at some future point figure out I’m alive. It’s inevitable. The key will be to find him first. That thought steadies me. Weird, right?
Cupping his cheek, I run my thumb over his stubble. “I’m better, thanks.”
We continue to Niall’s unit. I follow him in for a private good-night kiss, but something about what he said bugs me.
“How do you know the exact number of days until the Protector ship arrives?” I ask him. Has he changed his mind and plans to enlist? A pulse of unease ripples through me.
His shoulders droop as he reveals the depth of his exhaustion. “It’s what gets us through the days of double shifts, little to no free time, the constant vigilance. To know there’s an end point helps.”
The knot in my throat loosens. And now I understand. The officers need more help and the techs haven’t been that keen to fill in. Granted, they didn’t sign up to— “I know a