Kyro - A.G. Wilde Page 0,84
hardly hear herself breathing.
She shouldn’t be here. How was it possible that she was here?
“Mama?” she called once more.
Her voice.
Her voice sounded different...like a child’s.
Glancing down at herself, she almost collapsed.
She was...
She was little again.
The same shoes. The same dress.
That day when she’d gotten lost.
She was there again.
She’d just been following the bunny. The one that looked like she did.
She hadn’t meant to get lost.
How? How was this possible?
“Papa?”
No.
Papa is dead.
Father is dead. Why are you calling for Papa?
“Mama?”
Mama is dead.
What was happening to her?
Turning, she tried to find the way she’d come. She needed to find Mama. Mama and Papa would be looking for her.
No.
No!
They were dead.
It felt like a fight in her mind. She was fighting with herself—against the Evren that she knew now and the Evren back then.
The young Evren.
The scared Evren.
It was as if her mind couldn’t differentiate the past from her present.
They want to break you.
They’re trying to break you.
As her little-self began to run through the forest, trying to find her way, Evren tried to focus.
This was not real.
It couldn’t be.
Her little-self tripped then, her body falling face down hard. The pain in her little bones felt real.
Picking up herself, she began to run again.
Which way was home?
She didn’t know which way was home.
Alone.
Alone.
She was alone.
A sound somewhere in the forest had her freezing, her breath held in her little throat.
She didn’t know what that was.
She needed to find Mama and Papa.
She needed to get home.
The fear was creeping into her as if she was right back there.
She could feel her little heart beating hard, the chills running up her skinny, little arms and down her spine.
It was getting dark and she was terrified and alone.
Mama and Papa weren’t close.
She couldn’t find them.
She was lost.
She was alone.
No! Her real-self fought back against the thoughts. You’ve lived through this before. Don’t let it get to you.
This isn’t real.
THIS ISN’T REAL.
Evren wasn’t sure when they moved from the shuttle to another vessel. She was barely aware of her surroundings or how much time had passed. She was barely aware of anything.
When they finally removed the patch, she’d awakened in a cage beside some strange four-legged round, furry things in cages like she was.
It took her a few moments to realize she wasn’t on the shuttle anymore and that they were on some sort of cargo ship.
Had they already given her to the Tasqals?
As the thought came, a large metal door opened, and she could make out M’Agunt approaching through her blurred vision.
He stopped by her cage and regarded her. “Still lucid. Apply the patch again. She will be broken by the next day.”
No.
She tried to rise and realized she was no longer restrained but her body was still weak from whatever drug they’d given her.
No.
She opened her mouth to scream as the yeti-alien opened the cage and came toward her, but no sound came out.
No.
She didn’t want to go through that again.
“D-Don’t.” Her words were lost on him.
His large hand reached out and grasped her head, his palm so huge it covered her entire face as he pressed a fresh patch to her temple.
No.
Please.
Trying to break me.
Trying.
She chanted to herself as her vision went black.
Be strong, Evren.
Fight it.
Don’t let them break you.
Warp speed wasn’t fast enough.
As his space cruiser shot through the dark void of space at blinding speed, Kyro paced along the small control bridge.
He needed to hurry.
He wished he could go faster.
For one whole day he had been traveling and, for a whole day, every molecule in his being writhed in agony.
She’d been taken...and he hadn’t been there to protect her.
It weighed on him, and as the hours went by, the fact he had no idea whether she was safe or not, alive or dead made every second that passed seem longer than the last.
There was no way M’Agunt had arrived on Klepna 89 already. The handoff had not been completed yet. Still, the fact didn’t console him.
She was too close to danger. Too close to being lost forever.
If the Tasqal got a hold of her...
The image of his mother being used by one of the vile beasts came rushing back into his mind. Gripping the metal of the control bridge, he squeezed tight, willing the image away.
His pristine memory was sometimes a curse of his Vorti blood.
The Tasqal would use her, infect her, breed her...and then leave her for dead. He’d seen it happen before. He’d lived through it.
A tortured growl left his lips.
He couldn’t let it happen.
He wasn’t a young Vorti anymore.