Page 2 of Koha’vek (Cyborg Guardians Spinoff)

Koha’vek

The cold didn’t bother me anymore. I’d gotten used to it in the months since I left the Mesaarkan base. I’ve spent a lot of time outdoors in the cold.

I moved through the forest with the silence of a predator.

With each step, my heavy boots barely whispered against the pine-needle-covered Earth.

It was late winter, and snow dusted the ground in thin layers, not deep enough to slow me down but enough to cover my trail behind me.

I was glad for that because I knew hunters could still come looking for me.

Since I left my old life behind, the wilderness has become my sanctuary.

The solitude has been good for my battered soul.

Up here, deep in the ridges of the Medicine Bow Mountain range, my routine of survival was honest and straightforward.

I hunted mule deer and elk with a bow, and I only killed what I needed, but no more.

The mountain streams were fresh and clear, and I drank from any that I came upon .

Early in my wanderings, I discovered an abandoned mountain hideaway, half-buried under snow and vines.

I rebuilt it stone by stone, log by log.

Sometimes, the roof leaked during heavy storms, but I did my best to patch it.

If I forgot to check the flue, the fireplace sent smoke into the living area.

It was nowhere near as nice as my home on Mesaark, but it was mine.

I was on constant alert for anyone looking for me, but so far, no one seemed to be. Occasionally, patrols would fly overhead, and I would hide so they wouldn’t see me. My hearing is exceptional. I could hear them miles away and hide before they came close enough to spot me.

I don’t know whether I was surprised or disappointed that my people never came to look for me.

I believe the patrols flying overhead were cyborgs looking for our base to find the missing people.

I kept my weapons charged with a portable solar panel from the emergency kit in the hovercraft and stayed alert.

These were habits I’d learned early in my military career, an occupation that was chosen for me against my will.

I still had my stolen flyer, but I dared not take it out from the old barn where I hid it near my house. I’d dare not take it out because it carried the greatest risk of being discovered by the wrong people.

I came to the edge of a clearing and stood crouched between the snow-covered cedars. The deer was still ahead, small, healthy, and alert. It sniffed the wind, its ears twitching.

I raised my bow, notched an arrow, and drew back the bowstring, feeling my muscles tighten as I poised, waiting for the precise moment to launch the arrow.

Then the wind shifted. A new scent entered my nostrils. I knew that scent well. Human blood. It was coppery and fresh, and my nostrils flared in recognition.

A twig snapped as I rose to my full height. The deer bolted at the sound as I turned toward the scent. By the strength, I could tell it wasn’t far. I followed the trail, dirt and snow slipping under my feet as I descended down a slope lined with jagged rocks and broken branches.

At the bottom lay a woman by a rock and a tree that apparently stopped her from descending into the ravine. Her long, dark hair was tangled with dirt and leaves. Her clothes were torn and damp. Blood dripped on the snow from a gash on her temple. Her ankle looked swollen.

I looked around her. She had no pack, no supplies, and I wondered how she even got here.

I scanned the trees around us, and there was no horse, no pursuers, no signs of anyone else. What was she doing here?

I crouched beside her, frowning as I pressed two fingers to her throat.

Her pulse was weak but steady. I unclipped my scanner from my belt.

I still carry it, even though I rarely use it since I left the base.

With the power up, a low hum and a green light passed over her body, delivering the diagnosis.

She had a concussion, a sprained ankle, bruised ribs, and mild dehydration.

Not life-threatening, but I knew it would be if I left her here.

The cold would finish what her fall had started.

I clipped the scanner back on my belt and rubbed my hand over my face. If I left her in the snow, she would die. It wasn’t much of a dilemma, however. So many humans I couldn’t save. I knew I could save this one, yet if I did, when would I ever know peace again?

I slipped one arm beneath her knees, the other around her shoulders, and lifted her easily. She startled and made a soft sound. I froze, but she didn’t wake.

Her body was warm against my chest, fragile in a way that pulled at something deep inside me.

I hadn’t touched another living being since I’d deserted, nor had I spoken aloud for just as long.

Now this fragile, lone creature had fallen into my world like a meteor from the sky, a thought that made me look upward. What have I gotten myself into?

Making my way up the steep incline, I headed for home, holding her close.

The cabin door groaned on its hinges as I pushed it open with my shoulder, careful not to jostle the woman cradled in my arms.

My hearth fire from morning smoldered in the fireplace. I had banked it before I went to hunt that morning, and it still warmed the cabin. I laid the woman on an old padded sitting bench I’d covered with furs. I used slow, careful movements so I would not damage her further.

Before I tended her injuries, I went to the pile of neatly stacked wood just outside the door and got wood to revive the fire in the hearth. Setting a pan of water near the fire to warm, I unhooked my scanner from my belt to recheck the female’s vitals.

Her face was pale, smudged with dirt and dried blood. Dark lashes fanned across her cheekbones, and her lips parted slightly with each shallow breath.

She was beautiful.

Not in the way I remembered from propaganda vids or stolen human entertainment files—those were painted faces, exaggerated features, all glitter and deception. This woman was real. Raw. Wild.

And she looked like she’d been running for her life.

I retrieved a folded cloth from the food prep station and dipped it into the warming pot of water.

Kneeling beside the bench, I dabbed gently at the blood on her temple.

An ugly gash extended from her hairline to her cheek.

Perhaps I pressed too hard because she flinched from my touch and mumbled something unintelligible.

I paused and spoke softly in the human language. “You are safe now. Rest.”

I finished cleaning the wound quickly and carefully, then wrapped her ankle. My scanner showed no broken bones, but multiple bruises. Her body had taken a beating, but it was resilient.

I treated so many humans injured as badly or worse, but from abuse rather than some kind of accident. Sometimes, my brethren abused them for fun. Our scientists abused them to see how badly they could injure them without killing them. It was torture, plain and simple .

I still carried guilt that I had done nothing to stop it, not that I had any standing to believe my objections would carry any weight. Gar’hako would have enjoyed inflicting punishment on me had I dared to protest.

This female was stronger than she appeared. After applying a healing antiseptic to all her open wounds, I covered her with a thick woolen blanket I’d found in an abandoned house in my travels.

I stood, watching her in the firelight, dancing across her face.

She would awake eventually, and then she would see me, a monster her people had learned to fear.

Though warm-blooded, they called us reptilian because of our scaled bodies and dragon-like features.

That I had two eyes, a nose, and a mouth was the only resemblance to a human I bore.

Instead of hair on my head, I had spikes, pointed ears, and golden snake eyes with vertical pupils.

I had no illusions that she would be glad to see me. I didn’t look forward to that revelation, but she couldn’t leave until she could walk again. Yet, despite the danger to me, I would not restrain her and hold her against her will.

Yet, if I let her go, she could run straight back into the danger that brought her to me.

My gaze dropped to her face again. Her chest rose and fell, slow and steady.

I’d spent weeks avoiding contact with sentient beings on this planet, hiding and surviving. Now she had dropped into my life, entwining my fate with hers.

Our reckoning would come soon, but for now, I would keep her warm and safe and wait for her to open her eyes. I wasn’t ready to think beyond that just then.