High Flyer - Michelle Diener Page 0,11
had hurt, and Lancaster lifting his shirt to check and giving an easy laugh.
“You must have been sleeping directly on a sharp rock.” Lancaster's voice had been teasing. “You've got quite the bruise.”
“What is it?” Hana's fingers had lifted off him. “You went somewhere.”
“Lancaster did this.” He left it at that. Too angry for anything else. “But that doesn't answer how you found it.”
“It's too long a story to be told now.” She flicked her gaze away and he gave a nod of agreement. But the story would be told. He would make sure of it.
They went silent as the runner came even closer, moving slowly, most likely looking for the tag to light up.
Hana twisted and reached back for her pack, her movements quick and sure, as if she could see what she was doing in the pitch dark at the back of the cave.
She pulled a knife and some anesthetic gel out of a side pocket and then pulled his shirt up at the back.
“Can you roll onto your stomach?” She seemed to plaster herself to the side and ceiling of the cave, giving him a little room to do just that, and then settled on the small of his back, her knees on either side of him, body bent low over him.
The runner was much closer, and he heard the roar as it accelerated.
“They've found us.” As he said it, he felt the icy touch of the numbing gel on his skin. When she inserted the knife tip, he was aware of it as it dug in, but the gel had done its work. He felt no pain.
His hands were braced on either side of his head, and she tapped the back of one. He turned it over and she put the bloody tag in his palm.
He heard the crinkle of the wrapping on a healing gel strip, and then felt the warmth of it going on.
As soon as it was in place, he felt her blow out a breath, as if she'd held it in, as if she'd been far more rattled at what she'd had to do than she'd let on.
His hand closed in a fist around the tag, and when she pulled his shirt back down, he rolled carefully to his side to allow Hana to swing one leg over his back and lie down beside him again.
“Do you think it'll float?” He tried to have a good look at the tag, aware that the runner was circling their camp site now.
“No.”
He nodded. It would be useless to simply throw it into the water. If it sunk, it'd lead Lancaster's people to right in front of them.
Hana twisted again, rummaging around in her pack, as the roar of the runner's engines seemed to be right on top of them. She pulled out a derpra, the long, smooth-skinned fruit native to Faldine.
“It floats?” he asked.
She nodded. Took the tag from him and pushed it into the soft fruit completely, then dropped it into the water running right below them.
Iver watched it for a moment. It bobbed in the choppy water and then swirled away, disappearing into the darkness.
The runner revved its engine, like a predator after flushed prey, and took off down the river.
“They think we're making a run for it.”
She shook her head. “They think you are.” Her voice was barely audible. “They don't know whether I'm alive or dead.”
He was about to respond when she put a finger to his lips and then pulled herself up on an elbow, head cocked, listening. The runner was still just audible over the sound of the river.
From further downstream, he heard a loud splash, and the drift of voices shouting.
“Time to go or we'll be trapped.”
He waited for Hana to pull herself out of the narrow opening first. She maneuvered until she could step down into the water.
He passed her the pack, and she stepped to the side to give him room to get out.
With her and the pack out of the cave, he managed to swing around to come out feet first, but as he pushed out, the bank around him suddenly collapsed.
He landed hard in the water, with rocks and large chunks of clay coming down with him.
A light was suddenly on him from the bank above, someone was shouting, and without looking in Hana's direction, he let the current take him further from her until the loud splash of someone running toward him forced him to find his feet.
“Who's there?” he demanded. “Show