Dragon's Isolation - Miranda Martin Page 0,47
ball and pray for it to go away. It’s a stupid urge, and I’m not going to give in. I can’t. He needs me, and I’m going to handle this for him.
“Come on,” I choke out, pulling him through the door.
Instinctively, I feel along the wall for a switch. Those things out there are powered. Does that mean there is power for the entire place?
I touch something metallic and cool. I fumble with it a moment, and then there’s a soft click. Nothing happens. Damn it. I sigh heavily, then the room lights up, and stars dance in my vision.
“Argh!” Shidan growls, shielding his eyes and grabbing me with one arm, pulling me close.
“It’s okay,” I yell.
He’s squeezing me too tight, it hurts, but he’s holding me tight with one arm, his other closed fist held up defensively. He backs up to the wall and holds me there until at last he grunts and eases his grip. I slide to my feet rubbing my bruised ribs.
His tail twitches incessantly from side to side and his wings rustle. He’s on high alert, nervous is what I would normally call it when he’s like this. There’s a feeling, though, that is different than what I’m used to with him. Something more primal that exudes from his posture and stance.
I struggle to keep tears at bay. This isn’t the time or the place. Forcing my attention off of my love, I look at the room we’re in for the first time. My stomach clenches tight, and my head pounds.
“Holy shit,” I say, bile rising in my throat.
This is a horror show. A mad scientist lab. I can’t comprehend what I’m looking at. Shiny steel tables are covered with equipment not dissimilar to what I would have seen on the ship in the med bays. There are five double rows of the long tables marching in even order down the middle of the room. An aisle between the rows leads to the back where there is an operating table. A big one, a Zmaj-sized one.
Along the walls of the room are upright tubes filled with bubbling green liquid. Each of them has a light inside that illuminates their contents which are the horrifying part. There are… people in there. Well, alien people, but people, floating in the liquid with tubes coming out of them.
Almost against my own will, not wanting to see but having to, I move to the closest one. A Zmaj floats inside but he’s not normal. Instead he has two extra sets of arms that look like they belong to one of the Invaders. The surgery scars are clear on his sides where the arms are attached.
I swallow hard to force bile down. Shidan doesn’t speak or react in any way that I can pick up on. He stares at the tube then touches the glass. When I move to look at him more directly, I see the next tube over and I can’t hold back the sick that rises. Turning quickly I get rid of the stomach acid.
Shidan grabs my hair and holds it back. Like he did when I was pregnant with Malcolm. I can’t hold back the tears. Turning to him, I throw my arms around his chest and squeeze, hiding my face in his abs.
“What are they doing here?” I ask, knowing he most likely will not answer me.
The other tube holds an Invader, and four of its arms have been removed. It’s clear to see they took them off of it and grafted them to the Zmaj. I’ve seen all I want to, but I need to find more samples or anything that will help Shidan and the others.
Pulling myself together I stand up and do my best to ignore the tubes along the walls. I can’t imagine the horror, the pain that these people were put through. It makes my skin crawl. The Zmaj that we know are all honorable, above reproach, how can I reconcile the men I know with ones who would do this?
How different was this world before the Devastation?
There’s nothing I can do about that or with that information right now. I have to focus on finding answers to the problems at hand, not the ones being raised. Grabbing Shidan by his shoulders I turn him to face me.
“Papers,” I say. “Find papers.”
He frowns, brow furrowing, then nods. I push him away and he moves towards the tables. I set off in the opposite direction doing my own search. I don’t