I made a slow turn as the man disappeared into the hull of the ship.
“Get ready,” I whispered as I pulled into the shadow made by the cylindrical wing of the next enormous ship over. I was only three or four yards from the tank truck. There were a few technicians working near the front of the Flower-bound vessel and others, farther away, out on the old runway. I would be just another figure in the night.
I cut the engine and hopped down from the driver’s seat, trying to look casual, like I was only doing my job. I went around to the back of the van and opened the door a crack. The tank was right at the edge, the light on top glowing dull red, signifying that it was occupied. I lifted it carefully and closed the door.
I kept up an easy rolling pace as I walked to the open end of the truck. But my breathing sped up. This felt more dangerous than the hospital, and that worried me. Could I expect my humans to risk their lives this way?
I’ll be there. I’ll do it myself, just like you would. On the off chance you get your way, that is.
Thanks, Mel.
I had to force myself not to keep glancing over my shoulder at the open hatch where the man had disappeared. I placed the tank gently atop the closest column in the truck. The addition, one among hundreds, was not noticeable.
“Goodbye,” I whispered. “Better luck with your next host.”
I walked back to the van as slowly as I could stand to.
It was silent in the van as I reversed out from under the big ship. I started back the way we’d come, my heart hammering too fast. In my mirrors, the hatch remained empty. I didn’t see the man emerge before the ship was out of sight.
Ian climbed into the passenger seat. “Doesn’t look too hard.”
“It was very good luck with the timing. You might have to wait longer for an opportunity next time.”
Ian reached over to take my hand. “You’re the good-luck charm.”
I didn’t answer.
“Do you feel better now that she’s safe?”
“Yes.”
I saw his head turn sharply as he heard the unexpected sound of a lie in my voice. I didn’t meet his gaze.
“Let’s go catch some Healers,” I muttered.
Ian was silent and thoughtful as we drove the short distance to the small Healing facility.
I’d thought the second task would be the challenge, the danger. The plan was that I would—if the conditions and numbers were right—try to lead a Healer or two out of the facility under the pretext that I had an injured friend in my van. An old trick, but one that would work only too well on the unsuspecting, trusting Healers.
As it turned out, I didn’t even have to go in. I pulled into the lot just as two middle-aged Healers, a man and a woman wearing purple scrubs, were getting into a car. Their shift over, they were heading home. The car was around the corner from the entrance. No one else was in sight.
Ian nodded tensely.
I stopped the van right behind their car. They looked up, surprised.
I opened my door and slid out. My voice was thick with tears, my face twisted with remorse, and that helped to fool them.
“My friend is in the back—I don’t know what’s wrong with him.”
They responded with the instant concern I knew they would show. I hurried to open the back doors for them, and they followed right behind. Ian went around the other side. Jared was ready with the chloroform.
I didn’t watch.
It took just seconds. Jared hauled the unconscious bodies into the back, and Ian slammed the doors shut. Ian stared at my tear-swollen eyes for just a second, then took the driver’s seat.
I rode shotgun. He held my hand again.
“Sorry, Wanda. I know this is hard for you.”
“Yes.” He had no idea how hard, and for how many different reasons.
He squeezed my fingers. “But that went well, at least. You make an excellent charm.”
Too well. Both missions had gone too perfectly, too fast. Fate was rushing me.
He drove back toward the freeway. After a few minutes, I saw a bright, familiar sign in the distance. I took a deep breath and wiped my eyes clear.
“Ian, could you do me a favor?”
“Anything you want.”
“I want fast food.”
He laughed. “No problem.”
We switched seats in the parking lot, and I drove up to the ordering box.
“What do you want?” I asked Ian.
“Nothing. I’m getting a kick out of watching you do something for yourself. This has to be a first.”
I didn’t smile at his joke. To me, this was sort of a last meal—the final gift to the condemned. I wouldn’t leave the caves again.
“Jared, how about you?”
“Two of whatever you’re having.”
So I ordered three cheeseburgers, three bags of fries, and three strawberry shakes.
After I got my food, Ian and I switched again so I could eat while he drove.
“Eew,” he said, watching me dip a french fry into the shake.
“You should try it. It’s good.” I offered him a well-coated fry.
He shrugged and took it. He popped it into his mouth and chewed. “Interesting.”
I laughed. “Melanie thinks it’s gross, too.” That’s why I’d cultivated the habit in the beginning. It was funny now to think how I’d gone out of my way to annoy her.
I wasn’t really hungry. I’d just wanted some of the flavors I particularly remembered, one more time. Ian finished off half my burger when I was full.
We made it home without incident. We saw no sign of the Seekers’ surveillance. Perhaps they’d accepted the coincidence. Maybe they thought it inevitable—wander the desert alone long enough, and something bad would happen to you. We’d had a saying like that on the Mists Planet: Cross too many ice fields alone, and wind up a claw beast’s meal. That was a rough translation. It sounded better in Bear.