Chapter Twenty
Gripping the hacking Mitag’s sleeve, Ilid finally shoved his way through the door through which he’d seen Wilkes carry Charity. The sidewalk and street beyond the exit were a boiling mass of confusion as people poured from the building in various states of injury, many shouting for help. A nearby shuttle lifted off the ground and shot off. It failed to wait to gain a safe altitude before doing so. It narrowly missed hitting several people, who dove screaming and cursing to avoid being smashed.
He couldn’t see Charity or Wilkes anywhere.
“No emergency medics yet,” Detodev observed, carrying the injured elderly man he’d scooped from the floor.
The man’s eyes had thankfully cleared. “I see my daughter, young man. Erica!”
“Dad!” A middle-aged woman rushed up. “Thank you for getting him out. The crowd pushed me away. Oh, you’re hurt, Dad!”
“Only stunned. You can put me down now. I feel steady.” He coughed before smiling gratefully at Detodev, who set him carefully on his feet. “Thank you so much, Nobek…Detodev, right? You work for Clan Amgar.”
“Yes, sir. You should see a medic. You were knocked around pretty hard.”
“I’ll take him to the hospital to get checked,” the daughter assured him. “Our shuttle’s just over there. Thank you again, Nobek. We owe you. Come on, Dad.”
Ilid was only vaguely aware of the conversation. He scanned the growing crowd worriedly, searching the sea of faces. “Jennifer!”
No answer. Mitag, his face etched in worry, called Charity’s alias too, then clambered up Detodev’s back to get a clearer view of the surroundings. The Nobek made no protest at being used as a perch. He twisted this way and that, trying to spot their date.
Ilid’s concern became sheer worry despite having witnessed her in the care of law enforcement. “I saw Wilkes haul her out of the theater. Do you think she was hurt and he took her to the hospital?”
Neither Mitag nor Detodev answered but chorused “Jennifer!” again.
Ilid grabbed a passerby, a human who looked to be in his early twenties. “Hey! Did you see Assistant Chief Wilkes and a young woman this tall come through here?” He measured Charity’s height with his hand.
“Wilkes! That asshole nearly broke my damn arm when he bulldozed me to the ground,” the other man sputtered. “Did you see him try to kill everyone when he took off in the shuttle? Talk about your anger issues. If you ask me, he shouldn’t have any authority, going nuts in an emergency situation.”
So it had been Wilkes Ilid had witnessed taking off so dangerously. “And the woman?”
“He tossed her like a bag of garbage in the shuttle. Maybe she started the fire? He sure was an asshole. Guilty or not, she can probably get him on police brutality. Hey, Chad! Here I am!” The young man rushed off.
“Fuck.” Detodev’s voice was an animal growl as he grabbed the Dramok’s shoulder. “Ilid, the fire started quick. Maybe it wasn’t an accident. And Wilkes is the size—”
“Of a Kalquorian, such as the man who attacked her in the barn. The guy we caught spying on us died in Wilkes’ jail.”
“Shit! We have to catch him!” Apparently recovered from the smoke he’d inhaled, Mitag flew in the direction of the theater’s lot, where he’d parked his shuttle. They’d traveled as a group in it.
Ilid and Detodev passed him and were on the vessel in seconds. Ilid claimed the pilot’s chair in the cockpit. “I’ll fly. I have the fleet experience to travel at high speed.”
Mitag gave way. “Hurry, Ilid. Who knows what he might do to her?”
Grimly, the Dramok got them underway and flew in the direction he’d last seen Wilkes’ shuttle racing.
Charity might have been displeased by Sunrise’s bucolic location, but the settlement’s small size meant little air traffic existed, even at the early hour of the night. Ilid was grateful for it and another advantage they had in their search: Mitag’s sporty little shuttle, barely a year old, was more streamlined than the older, heavier shuttle he’d spotted leave the theater. Ilid flew at top speed to reach his quarry.
“Even if he’s only taking her to the hospital, we’ll want to be there,” he said.
Detodev snarled what Ilid’s gut already told him. “There’s no hospital this direction. He’s rogue. Either an Earthtique or greedy for the bounty on Charity.”
They were operating on guesswork as to the direction Wilkes had ultimately gone. If Mitag hadn’t switched on the shuttle’s 360-degree vid viewer, which made the hull and floor seemingly disappear, they might have missed the rapidly diminishing marker lights of another shuttle heading into the distance on their port side.
“ There .” Detodev pointed. His shout made Ilid’s ears ring. “No other craft in the vicinity.”
“Keep your fingers crossed it’s them,” the Dramok said, banking to catch up. He checked the readouts and silently thanked Mitag’s image-conscious urge to have included all the newest gadgetry on his vehicle. “Speed’s right for the shuttle I saw if he’s pushing it as hard as it can go. It could be them.”
“Don’t get too close, Ilid,” Detodev urged. “If he panics, he might crash. Charity could be hurt.”
“His shuttle isn’t space worthy,” Mitag noted, trying but failing to fend off the panic in his voice. “He can’t get far, can he? We can keep him sight, can’t we?”
Detodev urged, “Let him get where he’s going, land, then we’ll pick a moment when she’s least likely to suffer injury.”
Ilid grimaced despite recognizing the Nobek’s wisdom. His every instinct shouted to run Wilkes down and save Charity.
Detodev gripped his shoulder. “He has to land somewhere. He won’t get away.”
The Dramok snorted. “For an uncontrollable Nobek who can’t contain his violence, you’re doing pretty damn good. Where’s the rampaging monster who destroys everything in his path?”
Mitag chuffed a strained laugh. Ilid didn’t check over his shoulder, but he sensed Detodev’s scowl to be proven wrong about his abilities and his breed’s natural inclinations yet again.
“Wait until I catch up to Wilkes. Then we’ll see what I become.”
Ilid looked at the shuttle lights now in front of him, still some distance away though Mitag’s speedster was gaining. “Catching up isn’t the issue. We can’t do anything to quiet the engine, but can one of you circumvent the safety lights on this thing so he doesn’t see us coming?”
Detodev promptly climbed in the co-pilot’s chair. “If you learn anything as a troubled youth under the care of watchful guardians on Haven, it’s how to keep a low profile. It’s the only way you can have a good time unchaperoned.” He hesitated briefly before tapping on the dash controls. “Unless you’re Groteg’s ward. I swear it’s impossible to get anything past him. I wish like hell he was here.”
“We should com him,” Mitag suggested.
“I tried. He didn’t answer. He must be dealing with the fire emergency.”
It’s up to us alone then. Detodev will have to be the Nobek Charity needs . Ilid knew he had no need to say it. Detodev’s strained expression stated he was all too aware of the responsibility he faced.
* * * *
Wilkes glanced at the slut sitting in the seat next to his in the cockpit as she blinked awake. Naturally, the first thing she did was try to squirm free of the hovercuffs freezing her wrists to the chair arms. Her ankles were also locked in place, leaving her immobilized.
He expected her to scream to be released. To plead. Maybe cry. Instead, she treated him to a baleful glare. “Let me guess: Earthtique asshole? Holy Leader ass-kisser? Or are you simply threatened by women who refuse to live under your thumb?”
“Easy to see your father raised you to be a traitor, as well as an alien-loving whore,” he snarled, suddenly furious. She was afraid. It was obvious from her fast respiration and tense body. She wasn’t cowed into weeping submission, however. Why not?
“My father, I’m proud to say, sacrificed himself in all respects to stop a psychotic, narcissistic pedophile. Copeland was a whiny little asshole with delusions of godhood. A serial child rapist. A pathetic, boasting bitch who used small men like you to terrorize and kill innocents to keep him in power. I was on his ship, and I promise your would-be deity is dead. Dead, dead, dead, dead .”
No. The cunt had to be lying. Borey Nath and Browning Copeland were still alive. One waited to be justly and painfully executed for his crimes, and the other restored to his rightful place as leader of God’s people. The universe would make sense to Wilkes only by setting the Holy Leader on his earthly throne once more. The period between Armageddon and now was merely a test for the faithful.
“Shut your alien cocksucking mouth or I’ll smash it in,” he warned.
She laughed. The bitch fucking laughed at him. She thrust her face closer. “Go on, tough guy. Slap the pretty off me for this confession you no doubt want me to spill on vid. Do it for all the scared boys in men’s bodies. None of you can wipe your own asses unless Copeland gives you the courage to do so. Do it. I’ll be so convincing as a beaten woman ‘confessing’ the evidence you need.”
His fist clenched, eager to do exactly as she baited him. She already sported a bruise purpling her chin where he’d knocked her senseless. He’d no doubt hear about it from the interrogators who’d have to hide it under makeup or wait for it to fade before putting her on camera. Messing her up as she so desperately deserved wouldn’t please his superiors despite him delivering her.
To a point. He sneered. “We just need your face when you admit to your father’s crimes to set the record straight. The rest is fair game.”
He punched her in the stomach. The blow was almost casual, just enough to get her attention. The heavy stuff would come later if required.
He certainly hoped it would.
Her restraints allowed her to double over, the blood draining from her treacherous face as pain and shock taught their valuable lessons. It was his turn to laugh as she fought to breathe, as her first inhale included a groan.
“Thought you were safe from torture, did you? You’re a long way from being untouchable, precious. A lot of people look forward to hurting you if it’s necessary. Maybe even if it isn’t.”
He adjusted the crotch of his pants, which were suddenly tight as heat filled his manhood. She’d elbowed him there during his first attempt to bring her to justice. In an instant, he decided a little revenge, in the realm of “eye for an eye,” was in order as soon as he had the opportunity. Any evidence of such activity could be written off to her whoring for the aliens.
But it won’t be an eye for an eye. Cock for a pussy, he amended. He laughed again as he shifted to relieve the ache eager to take its vengeance.