Page 11 of Sy (Alien Berserkers of Izaea #2)

11

B lood. How the hell had he missed it?

Sy’s world narrowed to the dark stain on Ashley’s leg. The dried streak painted her skin like an accusation, only revealed now as she favored her left side on their final approach to the garrison. They’d been moving for hours, picking their way across broken ground and debris, trying to help survivors, and he’d been too caught up in their mission to notice she was injured.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt?” The words came out sharper than he’d intended, worry making his voice rough.

Her steps didn’t falter as she shot him a hard look. “It’s just a scratch. We had more important things to worry about.”

You failed to protect her, his Rage accused. She was injured under your watch.

“I’m fine,” she added, but he was already at her side, one arm coming around to support her despite her protests.

Shut up, he snapped at the voice. What exactly did you expect me to do? Control the weather? The voice growled but offered no solution, which only irritated him more.

“Sy.” Her tone carried a hint of exasperation as she tried to pull away. “Seriously. I can walk on my own.”

He loosened his grip but didn’t let go entirely.

“Humor me. Please.”

The words came out softer this time, almost pleading. To his surprise, she nodded and stopped resisting, allowing him to help her up the final stretch to the garrison’s entrance.

The simple acceptance sent an unexpected warmth spreading through his chest. She was letting him care for her, even though they both knew she was more than capable of managing on her own. The feeling was… pleasant.

She trusts you, his Rage grumbled, its tone shifting from accusatory to something almost protective. This is good. Don’t waste that trust.

He adjusted his grip on her waist as they navigated the entrance. She was warm against his side, her breathing steady despite the pain she must be feeling. Every small wince or catch in her breath made him want to sweep her up and carry her the rest of the way, but he knew that would push too far. She was already tolerating more fussing than he’d expected.

“As soon as we get inside, you’re getting that leg looked at,” he said, his tone brooking no argument. “Before anything else.”

She sighed, but he caught the slight upturn at the corner of her mouth. “Yes, sir,” she murmured, the words carrying a hint of fond mockery that made his chest tighten in an entirely different way.

Protect, the Rage voice rumbled in agreement, and for once, he found himself in complete alignment with it. He would make sure she was taken care of, whether she liked it or not. The fact that she was allowing it, even with obvious reluctance, made something protective and possessive curl through his chest.

They reached the main entrance, and he tightened his hold slightly as they prepared to enter the chaos he could already hear beyond the doors. He’d get her treated first and then deal with whatever other crises awaited them inside. Right now, nothing else mattered more than making sure she was okay.

“Ready?” he asked, though he wasn’t sure if he was asking her or himself.

She nodded, and together they stepped forward into the garrison.

The main hall hit them with a wall of sound and chaos. Where neat rows of dinner tables should have been, makeshift treatment stations filled every available space. The scrape of metal against stone echoed as the last few tables were pushed against walls, and the sharp smell of antiseptic cut through the air.

He tightened his grip on her waist, scanning the room. Everywhere he looked, Izaeans towered over their human patients, their movements careful and measured despite the urgency.

“Prioritize the humans,” someone called out. “They’re more fragile than we are. Check for internal injuries!”

She tried to pull away. “Sy, I can wait. Other people need help more than?—”

“No.” The word came out firm, absolute. The Rage voice rumbled in agreement as Sy guided her toward an empty spot near the closest medic. She needs treatment now. For once, he didn’t argue with the voice in his head.

He caught the flash of frustration across her face, but she allowed him to help her sit. His hands lingered longer than necessary, making sure she was steady. The simple fact that she wasn’t fighting him on this sent another wave of warmth through his chest, even as worry gnawed at his gut.

The nearest medic—a younger Izaean he recognized from the kitchens—was finishing with one of the humans. The medic’s massive hands dwarfed the male’s arm as he dressed a nasty wound. Blood-stained cloths littered the floor around them, and sweat beaded on the medic’s forehead as he concentrated, clearly aware of how careful he needed to be with such a delicate patient.

“Next,” the medic called, wiping his hands on a clean cloth. His eyes swept over her, professionally assessing. “Human female, adult. Any dizziness? Difficulty breathing?”

“She has a leg wound,” he said. “It needs cleaning and?—”

“I can speak for myself,” she cut in, though her tone held more resignation than anger. She turned to the medic. “It’s just a cut. Nothing serious. Please, help the others who need it more.”

“All injuries to humans must be treated quickly,” the medic replied firmly. “Your species is more susceptible to infection than ours.” He reached for fresh supplies, selecting the smaller tools specifically crafted for treating humans.

As he began examining Ashley’s leg, Sy forced himself to step back, giving them space. His eyes swept the room again, taking in the careful coordination between Izaean medics as they treated their human patients. Something nagged at the edge of his awareness, something wrong about the scene before him.

Then it hit him. Where were Kal and Tor? Both teens had medic training—basic first aid at least. They should have been here, helping with the humans they were so fascinated by. His gaze darted from face to face, searching for the familiar forms of the two young Izaeans, but found nothing.

The Rage voice, momentarily satisfied that she was being treated, shifted its focus. The cubs are missing. Find them.

His jaw clenched as worry bloomed fresh in his chest. The teens should have been here. It was their duty, their responsibility. Unless something had happened to them. Unless…

“All done,” the medic announced, pulling him from his thoughts. “Keep it clean and try to stay off it as much as possible for the next day or so. Humans heal more slowly than we do, so you’ll need to be careful.”

Ashley was already standing, testing her weight on the leg. “Thank you. Now we should?—”

“Rest,” he interrupted. “You should rest.” But even as he said it, his mind was racing, calculating how long the teens had been missing and wondering where they might have gone.

More importantly, why had they abandoned their posts when they were needed most?

He scanned the hall again, more deliberately this time. The absence of Kal and Tor grew more glaring with each passing moment. The teens had been so eager to learn healing, pestering every trained Izaean for lessons until they’d mastered the basics. Now, when their skills were desperately needed, they were nowhere to be found.

Find the cubs, the Rage voice demanded. Something is wrong.

A human woman staggered past, supported by two Izaean medics. Her arm hung at an awkward angle, and he automatically reached to steady her before she fell. In that moment, his worry about the teens crystalized into something darker. They wouldn’t have abandoned their duties without reason. Not Kal and Tor.

“Lila,” Ashley breathed beside him, her voice tight with maternal fear. “She’s with them. My daughter is with them.”

The implications hit him like a physical blow. Two teenage male Izaeans alone with a human girl. His chest tightened. No, he trusted them. They were good kids, respectful. But… they’d never been around females before, let alone a human one. And they were at that age…

They wouldn’t, the Rage voice growled, surprisingly defensive of the teens. But others might.

Her hand gripped his arm. “We need to find them. Now.”

“We will,” he promised, though his own worry churned in his gut. His eyes swept the room once more, searching for anyone who might have seen them. The teens were distinctive enough. Someone must have noticed where they’d gone.

The hall bustled with activity around them, medics moving with purpose between patients as well as voices calling out for supplies and assistance. But no sign of two gangly teenage Izaeans or a human girl. How long had they been missing? Hours, at least. Long enough for someone to notice, surely.

“They’re trained medics,” he muttered, more to himself than Ashley. “They know their duty. They wouldn’t just leave unless?—”

“Unless what?” Her voice cracked slightly. “Unless something happened to them?”

He placed his hand over hers where it still gripped his arm, trying to project a confidence he didn’t entirely feel. “We’ll find them. They have to be somewhere in the garrison.” But even as he said it, he wondered if he was trying to convince Ashley or himself.

Search. Now. The Rage voice left no room for argument, and for once, Sy was in complete agreement. They needed to find those kids before…

He cut that thought off before it could fully form. No point in borrowing trouble. First, they needed information. Someone must have seen something. His gaze settled on the medics working nearby, recognizing faces, calculating who might have been here longest.

Her fingers dug deeper into his arm. “Sy, please. We have to find my daughter.”

The fear in her voice made his chest ache. He’d promised to protect them both, and now Lila was missing. He’d failed them. Failed her.

Focus, the Rage voice growled. Find them first. Blame later.

Right. Focus. They needed to start asking questions, and they needed to do it now.

“Zeke!” Sy’s voice carried across the hall as he spotted the medic working on a female engineer’s leg. He guided her through the chaos, careful to keep his pace measured for her injury.

Zeke didn’t look up from his work, his massive hands steady as he manipulated the broken bone. “Whatever it is, it’ll have to wait. I’m setting this.”

The engineer bit back a cry, her knuckles white where she gripped the makeshift table. Sy almost stepped back—almost—but her fear radiated beside him like a physical force.

“The teens,” he pressed. “Kal and Tor. Have you seen them?”

A grunt came from Zeke as he continued working. “Earlier. Few hours ago.” He paused, concentrating on a particularly delicate movement. “Said something about the lower levels.”

The scrape of boots behind them made Sy turn. Kraath stood there, covered in dust, his massive frame blocking the light from one of the wall sconces. Something about his appearance set off warning bells in his mind.

“The containment fences are secure,” Kraath announced, though no one had asked. Dust fell from his clothes as he moved closer, and Sy frowned. The old feral containment fences were nowhere near where the rescue work was happening. Why had Kraath been out there? And since when did he know anything about engineering?

Wrong, the Rage voice growled. Something’s wrong.

But before Sy could pursue that thought, Kraath continued, “There are cave entrances down in the lower levels, beneath the basement.” His eyes fixed on Sy with an intensity that seemed forced. “If the teens went down there…”

The implications hit him like a physical blow. The earthquake. The caves. The teens could be trapped down there, buried under who knew how much rock.

Ashley’s sharp intake of breath beside him said she’d reached the same conclusion. “Lila,” she whispered, her voice breaking on her daughter’s name.

Move, the Rage voice demanded. Now.

He pushed aside his suspicions about Kraath. They didn’t matter right now. All that mattered was finding those kids before… His mind shied away from completing that thought.

“How do we get down there?” he demanded, already calculating the fastest route to the lower levels. Time was critical now. If there had been a cave-in…

“The old maintenance shaft,” Kraath replied too quickly. “Near the south storage rooms. It leads directly to?—”

“I know where it is,” Sy cut him off. Something about Kraath’s eagerness felt wrong, but he couldn’t focus on that now. The teens—and Lila—needed help. Everything else could wait.

He turned to her, seeing his own fear reflected in her eyes. “We’ll find them,” he promised, meaning it with every fiber of his being. “We’ll bring her back.”

She straightened, pushing aside her own pain. “Then let’s go.”

“You can’t be serious about going down there.” Sy’s voice cut through the bustle of the garrison’s main hall, drawing Ashley’s attention away from the map she’d been studying. “You’re injured.”

Her fingers tightened on the edge of the wooden table, her knuckles whitening as she fought to keep her voice level. Around them, the hall hummed with activity… people rushing back and forth along with the murmur of soft conversations as people were treated.

“I’m fine,” she said, straightening to her full height despite the twinge in her leg. The injury was minor—a deep scrape from falling debris during the quake, nothing more. “We need everyone who can help, and I’m more than capable.”

He moved closer, his tall frame casting a shadow over the maps spread across the table. His expression softened. “Humans are more fragile than us. One wrong move in those caves…”

“More fragile?” She turned to face him. “I’ve been caving since I was sixteen. I’ve mapped unexplored systems, taught advanced techniques to professionals, and led rescue operations.” Her voice grew stronger with each word, carrying across the hall. A few nearby workers paused in their tasks, watching the exchange. “This isn’t about being human or Izaean. This is about experience, and I have it in spades.”

His jaw tightened. “Ashley?—”

“No.” She cut him off, jabbing a finger toward the maps. “Those kids are down there somewhere. Every minute we waste arguing is another minute they’re lost and scared. I’m going, Sy. This isn’t up for debate.”

He stepped closer, close enough that she had to tilt her head back to maintain eye contact. His voice dropped lower. “I can see how you’re favoring that leg. If something happens down there?—”

“It’s a scratch,” she snapped, her patience wearing thin. “My leg isn’t falling off. I can walk, I can climb, and more importantly, I know what the hell I’m doing.”

She reached out to put a hand on his arm. “I get that you’re worried. Honestly, I do… but those caves could be treacherous, and you need someone who knows how to navigate them safely.”

The muscles in his jaw worked as he studied her face. Then he sighed. “You’re not going to back down on this. Are you?”

“Not a chance.” She allowed a small smile to curve her lips. “So instead of arguing about it, let’s just get on with it. Shall we?”

“Carter!” she called out, and one of the technicians organizing supplies near the hall’s eastern wall peeled off and headed their way. “We need the caving kit from stores. The full setup… ropes, harnesses, the works.” The young man nodded sharply and disappeared through one of the arched doorways quickly.

She turned back to the central table where Michelle sat, her broken leg propped up on a chair, carefully wrapped in a splint. The engineer had been watching the exchange with Sy in amusement.

“I need you to take point while I’m gone,” she said, looking directly at the other woman. “Engineering needs a steady hand, especially with the damage from the quake.”

Michelle grinned, the skin around her eyes crinkling at the corners. “You mean you need someone to make sure these overeager idiots don’t blow anything up while you’re playing cave explorer?” She adjusted her position, wincing slightly as she moved her leg.

Ashley’s stomach twisted with guilt. “Michelle, I?—”

“Don’t you dare.” Michelle snatched a rolled bandage from the medical supplies scattered across the table and threw it at Ashley’s chest. The projectile bounced off and rolled across the floor, drawing a sharp look from Zeke as he worked on another injured worker nearby. Not too far from Michelle, she noted. “My leg is broken, not my head. I’m perfectly capable of giving orders from a chair.”

The knot in Ashley’s chest loosened slightly. “There’s a lot to manage. The damage reports alone?—”

“Which I helped write,” Michelle cut in, her voice firm. She gestured to the papers beside her. “I know every system, every weakness, every priority. And in case you’ve forgotten, I was running engineering teams while you were still learning to spell ‘electromagnetic pulse.’”

A laugh bubbled up despite her concerns. Trust Michelle to put things in perspective. Behind them, Carter returned with the caving equipment, the metal carabiners clinking together as he set the kit down.

“Besides, I have help,” Michelle continued, a softer smile playing across her face as Zeke checked her splint. Like it could have come undone in the five minutes Michelle had been sitting there.

“Alright,” she conceded. “But I want hourly updates on the repair progress, and if anything major?—”

“Goes wrong, I’ll handle it.” Michelle nodded. “Now go find those kids before I throw something heavier than a bandage at you.”

“Alright, alright, I’m going!” She laughed, turning to where Carter had laid out the caving equipment.

She knelt beside the kit, methodically checking each piece. Her hands moved with practiced efficiency, muscle memory from countless expeditions taking over as she sorted through carabiners, examined the ropes for wear, and tested the backup lights.

She stood, adjusting the straps of her pack across her shoulders and checking the fit of her harness one final time. The weight of the gear was familiar, grounding. This, at least, was something she knew. Something she was good at. Her leg twinged as she shifted her weight, but she ignored it.

Sy appeared at her side, an Izaean version of her own kit slung over his shoulder. It was the first time she’d seen him in cold-weather gear, but the fabric stretched over the heavy muscles of his chest and arms, doing nothing at all to conceal how well he was built. Then they were ready and heading for the door.

Kraath watched them approach from the basement entrance. “Time is of the essence,” he reminded them. “This way.” His voice echoed off the garrison’s stone walls as he led them down the corridor toward a heavy wooden door. As he pulled it open, the hinges groaned, revealing a narrow stone staircase that disappeared into darkness. “Watch your step. These stairs haven’t seen much use in recent years.”

She flicked on her headlamp, the beam cutting through the gloom. The air flowing up from below carried the musty scent of abandoned spaces, dirt, and wet stone.

They started down in silence, their footsteps echoing in the confined space. The temperature dropped with each step, the air growing heavier, thicker somehow. Her injured leg protested the downward motion, but she ignored it. It was just a scratch. She’d had worse. The walls pressed in closer as they descended, the rough-hewn stone glistening with moisture in the beam of her light.

Halfway down, the staircase curved sharply. Her boot hit a patch of slick stone, and the world tilted. Her heart lurched as her balance wavered, the weight of her pack threatening to pull her backward. Before she could react, Kraath’s hand shot out, reaching for her arm.

“Careful—” he started.

A strong arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her back against a solid chest. Sy’s voice rumbled low and sharp near her ear. “I’ve got her.”

Heat flooded her cheeks. She felt the tension radiating from him, saw how he’d positioned himself between her and Kraath. Possessive much?

“I’m fine,” she said quickly, steadying herself against the wall. The rough stone beneath her palm helped ground her. “The stones are slicker than they look.”

Kraath withdrew his hand slowly, his expression unreadable in the harsh shadows cast by their lights. “Indeed. The moisture from the caves tends to seep upward.” His eyes flickered between her and Sy. “Perhaps we should proceed more carefully.”

She nodded, adjusting her pack. But as they resumed their descent, Sy stayed closer, near enough that she could feel his heat at her back. The protective gesture should have irritated her after their earlier argument, but instead, it sent an unexpected warmth through her chest… one that had nothing to do with exertion.

The stairs leveled out into a wide corridor. Where the upper levels showed the precise, methodical construction that seemed to be typical of Izaean engineering, these walls seemed older, almost organic in their flowing curves. Ashley’s headlamp caught strange patterns in the stone that might have been natural erosion or something more deliberate.

“The entrance is just ahead,” Kraath said as he led them around a final bend, and her breath caught in her throat.

Before them stood what remained of an ancient barrier. Massive stone blocks, each easily twice Ashley’s height, had once sealed the passage completely. Now, a ragged gap stood to one side, where one of the stones had broken in two. The gap was just large enough for someone to squeeze through. The edges of the breach were worn smooth and pitted as if centuries of moisture had slowly eaten away at the stone.

“I ordered this sealed,” Kraath said, running his hand along the weathered surface. “When we first established the garrison.”

She frowned, studying the barrier more closely. The deterioration she saw would have taken hundreds of years to achieve. She opened her mouth but then shut it. Perhaps the moisture on Parac’Norr was far more corrosive than she was used it. It would certainly explain the damage.

“The caves beyond this point were deemed too dangerous,” he continued. “They connect to older systems down here.”

Sy moved closer to the gap, his light playing across the rough edges. “If you knew these caves were here, why weren’t they better secured?”

“They were.” Kraath’s expression didn’t alter, but she caught the slight flicker in his eyes. “But determined young minds often find ways around such obstacles. Even if they are for their own safety. This is where I leave you, I’m afraid. I have duties to attend to.”

She nodded and stepped closer to the gap as the garrison commander’s footsteps faded. The beam disappeared, swallowed by the darkness beyond. Water dripped somewhere in that blackness, the sound echoing back distorted and strange.

She could just picture it… The two teenagers testing the stones, gradually working them loose, careful to hide any evidence of their activities. “It’s just big enough for a person to squeeze through. I think we can get through it.”

“We can, and we will,” Sy said as he reached into his pack and withdrew something that looked like a cross between a flare and a glowstick. With a sharp twist, he activated it, bathing the corridor in a soft, blue-white light that seemed to penetrate the darkness more effectively than their headlamps before he threw it through the gap.

She adjusted her harness one final time, checking that all her equipment was secure. The dark opening gaped before them like a hungry thing. She couldn’t shake the feeling that they were about to cross more than just a physical threshold, but somewhere in that darkness, three kids were lost and scared.

“Well,” she said, “let’s go find them.”