Page 31 of Warrior (The Outlander Book Club… in Space! #2)

And this was just the blasting cap. We'd all be dead now if Daicon hadn't removed the fuel from the explosives.

I shook my head, trying to stop the popping in my ears.

Faintly, the sound of George and the others raised above the residual rumblings.

Staying pressed to the wall, I crept to the overview, raising just enough to catch the children running about and whooping as they tossed small devices that reminded me of the bang caps the kids used to throw at the 4 th of July church picnic.

If we were right, the guards would just be rising for the day. One blast to wake and discombobulate them. The second was to draw them into the trap. I held my breath and pressed the button.

This explosion was loud, like the clang of an angry gong, but it didn’t have the painful aftereffects of the first blast. The thundering sound of footsteps became audible a moment later.

I slipped back into the fissure just before the burst of bodies hit the landing.

From my perch, I counted maybe a dozen guards.

Correction... a dozen pissed-off alien guards.

“Get the bombs!” George yelled his line perfectly, my next cue.

The explosion kicked up a plume of dust at the foot of the stairs, bringing forth a bevy of surprised curses from the Aljani.

"Get those little bastards!" Someone yelled, and all hell broke loose.

I slipped from my hiding place to watch the melee below.

Children screeched and laughed as they darted about the room, staying just out of reach of snatching hands.

The Aljani guards were large and muscular, but Daicon was right.

.. they were slow. The guards grumbled, huffed, and cussed as they chased after the little ones zipping about as fast as go-carts, and drawing forth painful yelps as they pegged the men with bang caps.

There was no mistaking the rage on the guard's faces, just as there was no misreading the expression of glee on each child.

Those little darlings enjoyed this. They were having fun while I stood here watching, one fright short of a heart attack—just like any other mother.

Mayhem continued until the moment George gave another high-pitched whistle.

I pressed the button again.

This time, the explosion kicked up a thick plume of dust at the entrance of the supper tunnel, causing enough cover for the young ones to slip inside without notice.

Squinting, I waited until George plunged into the tunnel, the guard diving after him seconds too late.

Flipping the toggle on the communicator to channel two, I turned and ran.

The tunnel was empty save for the echo of aggravated curses. Hitting the point in the tunnel, Daicon marked, I turned, pointed the communicator toward the stairs, and pressed the button.

Crap.

Nothing happened.

Raising the communicator to eye level, I pressed again.

Nothing.

I’d gone too far for the signal to reach.

Holding the communicator in my outstretched hand like a brandished weapon, my feet churned back toward the common area. Like a spasm, my finger clicked the button every few seconds without a response.

Turning the sharp corner that brought me onto the landing above the steps, I skidded to a halt. Three guards stood waiting, eyes widening as they spotted me. The one in front curled his lips away from yellowed teeth.

“I bet this bitch knows where those little bastards went.”

He stepped forward, and I pressed the button one last time.

The blast of wind flung me backward, slamming my body against the stone, debris caught in the wave, peppering my skin.

Don’t pass out.

Easier said than done.

Dust and smoke thickened the air, making it hard to draw breath, and my head throbbed painfully from its connection with the wall. Blackness threatened at the edges of my vision, and only my stubbornness kept unconsciousness at bay.

Don’t pass out.

The thunk of falling rocks and a weak, painful groan floated in the air.

Other than that, all I could hear was the high-pitched whine of my eardrums recovering.

There was no movement... no voices. The diversion worked.

Daicon and the kids surely had the ship in their possession by now.

I had to get to them! Shaking the cobwebs from my head, I pushed to my feet.

Only...

Dust lay so thick in the air that I could only feel the pile of rocks entrapping my lower legs.

After a few tugs, I freed my right leg, but while I could wiggle my left without pain, the debris trapped me.

With my free foot, I kicked at the rocky snare, loosening a few of the smaller stones, just not enough to gain my freedom.

The deep breath I attempted choked and wheezed, raspy coughs issuing from deep in my chest. This was how people died from smoke inhalation, wasn't it?

Better smoke inhalation than the guards getting their hands on me. At least Daicon and the children were safe.

Please, God, let them be safe.

Let them be safe and happy. Let them have happy lives with people who will love and treat them well, and please, please let them know how much I love each of them.

Especially Daicon.

He would mourn me, and the desire to spare him pain sent a flood of determination through my veins.

I slammed the heel of my foot against the rocks, reverberations sending shimmies of pain up both legs.

The debris kept me from flexing my foot in order to pull it free.

Wasn't there a guy who cut off his hand once to escape a trap like this? I wasn’t that desperate yet, but breaking my foot to get free was something I could survive.

I scooted closer to the rocks, planting one foot on the ground for leverage and wrapping my hands around the bend of my knee. I pulled.

And pulled, and pulled and pulled, grunts of frustration breaking the silence.

“What are you doing?”

I squealed and fell flat on my back. Glancing up, I met Daicon's amused gaze.

“I’m stuck,” I groused, struggling to sit upright.

Daicon knelt beside me, eyes inspecting for injury before settling on the hateful pile of stones that held me fast.

“Is everyone okay?”

“Everyone but you,” he teased.

With a single swipe of his hand, Daicon dismantled my prison, and I yanked my foot free, dirty, but none the worse for wear.

I struggled to stand, but Daicon swept me up into his arms and headed down the tunnel at a jog.

“What about the other guards?” I worried in a whisper.

“There are no other guards.”

He said the words without emotion—just a simple statement of fact. What he’d had to do to protect me and the children.

“I take it you stole the ship?”

“The younglings are aboard waiting for us to return.”

"I can walk, you know," I felt the need to remind him.

Daicon lifted me just enough to press his lips to my temple. “I may never let you walk again.”

I feigned a scowl but didn’t hide my happy hum. A hum that stopped abruptly when we exited the tunnel onto a pale gray tarmac.

Bodies of guards littered the floor, a ghastly edging to the pathway that led to the sleek black ship.

“Kida!”

Ewok rushed across the tarmac to meet us, tears hovering in his button eyes.

"I'm okay, sweetie." I tapped Daicon on the chest, and with a grunt of regret, he sat me on my feet.

“We did it, kida!” George called from the doorway, backlit by a bevy of small, smiling faces.

I climbed the ramp, grabbing the tiny hands that reached out to greet me. Over my shoulder, I heard Daicon chuckle at Ewok’s questions, a sound filled with a mix of relief, pride, and love. I turned back, the corner of my eye-catching movement where there should be none.

The twisted body of a guard lay on the side of the ramp, crumpled and bloody. He moved, uncurling with the speed of a striking snake, but instead of fangs, he struck out with a blade... toward an oblivious, tiny darling.

“Ewok!” I screamed, knowing the warning came too late.

Not too late for Daicon. Moving so fast my eyes couldn't follow, he put himself between the Ewok and the guard. He grunted with aggravation before his fist met the top of the guard's head with a resounding thump. The guard’s eyes rolled back in his head, and he fell.

“Are you okay?” I snatched Ewok into a hug, running my hands over his back and torso.

"I'm fine, kida." Ewok hugged me back.

“Are you okay?” I reached for Daicon, but he caught my hands, bringing my knuckles to his lips.

“We need to go.” He spun me and urged everyone from the threshold and into the ship. "I didn't kill all the guards; we must be gone before they wake up.”

This ship was about half the size of the one that brought me to the moon.

Like the other ship, the nose formed the cockpit, holding the dashboard, pilot, and co-pilot's chair.

The vessel's body divided into two parts, both of which had seating that looked like a school bus.

In the back was an area that appeared to be geared like a kitchen, and on the other side, a small, enclosed section.

Please let it be a bathroom.

"Strap everyone in. It might be rough for a few minutes," Daicon said, before disappearing into the cockpit.

It was like herding feral cats, but the children finally settled, maneuvering themselves into the harness sprouting from each seat. I could have settled beside George, but I wanted to be with Daicon.

As I stumbled to the cockpit, the ship jerked and rumbled under my feet.

The interior was darker than I expected, the only light coming from the console in shades of orange and purple.

I stepped beside Daicon's chair, my foot slipping on a wet spot.

I glanced down, but all I could make out in the darkness was a dark, wet spot, at which I rolled my eyes.

Kids were kids. They'd been on the ship alone for no more than ten minutes and managed to spill something. Little darlings, I’d clean it up later.

Right now, I was more interested in the rousing guards that stood between us and freedom.

"Sit down and strap in, sweetling," Daicon's concentration honed on the instruments in his hands—a half wheel and bank of gauges that reminded me of an airplane. The minute my butt hit the co-pilot's chair, the nose of the ship swung left, the faint pings of blaster shots echoing off the hull.

In front of us lay freedom behind a massive door.

I squeaked at the conglomeration of metal and concrete. “How are we going to get through that?”

Daicon’s eyes narrowed, but the corner of his mouth quirked upward. “Hold on.”

I didn’t notice him move, but pulses of bright yellow light shot from the front of the ship, adhering to the dock door.

There was a shimmer, like a pulse of lightning, and then the last obstacle to our freedom gave a shudder, reducing to rubble.

A faint plop, plot plop echoed through the cockpit, the sound of rubble hitting the hull.

Another jerk and the ship shot through the opening. I gripped the armrest of the plushy co-pilot’s chair, expecting a blast of speed to shoot us into the stars. Instead, the ship hovered, turning to face the dock.

“What are you doing?” I glanced at Daicon. His mouth set in a hard line, and I thought I saw his hand tremble over the controls.

“The acidic atmosphere will kill anyone left alive.” He grunted.

Four more lightning balls shot from the nose of the ship, slamming into the rock face.

A muted blast and seconds later, stone and sand tumbled, hiding the opening from sight.

The ship spun again, blasting across the landscape, rising higher and higher until the orange atmosphere faded into black.

The moon that was my prison slowly became a speck of dust in the starry sky.

When the lights inside the shuttle flickered to brightness, the children cheered.

Through the cheerful voices, I heard the plop, plop, plop again, fainter and spaced further apart.

Space debris, maybe… or something wrong with the ship?

Worry surged, and I turned to Daicon, noticing him hunched forward, punching coordinates on the control panel. There was a weakness to his movements that seemed awkward.

“Daicon?”

The shoulders shifted uneasily, like the movement caused him pain. He turned his head, the tawny mane falling over his face—his pale face.

“You’re safe now.” His lips quirked, as though the effort to generate a smile was too much for him. “I set the autopilot to rendezvous with the Bardaga. You’ll be safe.”

“Daicon?” I stood, taking a step, my feet sliding on the slick floor, and placed a hand on his shoulder, expecting warmth. My palm felt nothing but a chill that settled around my heart.

His hand lifted toward me, the strain proving too much, and he slumped sideways. I squeaked in alarm, grabbing at him, the hand I slipped around his waist encountering hot wetness.

Oh God.

The children hadn’t spilled anything on the floor, but Daicon had. I stared at the ever-growing pool of his black life’s blood beneath my feet.

“Daicon!” The beautiful golden eyes rolled back into his head. His size proved too much for me, his body slipping from my grip. I screamed for George as Daicon slumped to the floor at my feet.