Page 27 of Healing Creek (Arena Dogs #3)

Chapter Twenty-One

Creek stood at the level three window. This one had no glass, letting in the fresh scent of the lush foliage in the ravine. He shouldn’t have left Grace alone. He had no brother to protect her, but Mercury tried to protect everyone.

There was a price on her head.

The base was secured, and she was in a room full of Dogs. He shouldn’t worry so much. It was probably the safest place he could have left her.

She would not have so much protection for the rest of their visit.

The exterior base security was handled by humans and not anyone he knew well enough to trust. The only one in Haven that he truly trusted was Neri.

She was out there, somewhere in the peace of the jungle that concealed the mighty gouge into the planet’s surface.

Maybe he could ask her help in protecting his mate while they were there.

Surely, she would return to the base for the short time they would be there and maybe he could talk her into joining Mercury’s mission.

It would mean risking her life, but he suspected those who survived would be rewarded with more freedom than any of them had ever known.

To his right, shoulder bags hung from pegs on the wall.

The jungle beyond the base walls supplied them with fresh fruit and everyone who entered it was encouraged to bring back a bagful.

There were also some beautiful flowering plants.

He could gather some for Grace. He pulled a bag from a peg and pulled the strap over his head and across his body.

He leaned over the ledge and thought about where Neri might be.

He could call to her. Howls were forbidden, but there was a native primate species that lived in the vines that grew along the vertical ravine wall.

They had once imitated its calls to communicate.

That much was allowed. Clasping the wide ledge with both hands he leaned over into the open air and made the first call.

No response came back. He would have to journey farther down into the jungle.

He jumped up onto the ledge and made his way to one end.

Carefully finding vines strong enough to hold his weight, he slipped over the edge and onto the vines hanging outside.

The effort pained the stiff joints in his hands and taxed his shoulder, but he was still strong enough to maneuver.

Hand by hand he made his way down. He made use of foot holds carved into the soil and rock by the previous passings of other Dogs.

When he’d traveled several hundred feet down and West, he came across a rich patch of fruit and made the primate’s call again.

He waited for a response, filling his bag, then repeated the call.

This time a faint reply echoed. He smiled.

She wasn’t far. Hand by hand he made good time, stopping occasionally to unearth small samples of flowering plants and tucking them into his bag.

He made the primate’s call once again and heard Neri’s echo. Not far now. He reached and grabbed a vine with confidence. It took his weight, and he released his grip on the last vine. A metallic clink sounded somewhere above. The vine he’d just grabbed gave way.

Creek was quick to grab for an alternative, but nothing held him. The vines simply fell without being touched. Air rushed past as he grabbed and clutched with no result. The rockface beneath the vines rushed closer. There was nothing solid to grab.

As he fell, he saw his hands as if each second stretched and slowed time. He saw the scarred tips of his fingers where claws had once been. Would they have given him a chance now?

Pain slammed into his back and head. A ledge must have stopped his fall. Icy cold ripped through his shoulder, drawing his eyes to the finger width branch that pierced it. Grace… Then the world went black.