The Runaway Alien (The Lost Planet 9) - Page 42

“Goodness gracious, baby. What happened to you?” Molly asks.

Draven. Molly’s mate. Up close, he’s terrifying. But it’s good to have terrifying on your side when you’re on a mission to rescue your son.

“Swarms of the humans,” Draven grunts out. “They attacked Hadrian. We got separated. I had to fight my way through them to get back to the Facility. Are you injured?”

“No, but I think I should be asking you that.”

“I’m wrong as rain.”

I block out their sweet murmurs as I take the stairs of the Tower two at a time, following after where Breccan, Aria, and Galen went. Whoever has Henry is going to die and I’m going to take a page out of Draven’s book and bathe in their blood.

Draven and Molly can be heard clomping behind me as we rush to our destination. We reach the top of the stairwell and so much adrenaline is coursing through me, I feel like I could bring the mountain around us down with my hands alone. Pushing through the small crowd gathered on the other side of the door, wanting—needing—to be the first to see Henry is safe with my own eyes, I rush out past them.

A moment of déjà vu reminds me of opening the Command Center not long ago, but there are no friendly faces on the other side of the door. There are maybe two dozen human soldiers, armed with a whole cache of weapons each. All of them pointing our way.

“Where is my son?” I demand without preamble, aiming my zonnoblaster at each of them in turn. “Give him back. No one else has to get hurt.”

One of the soldiers in the front with a name patch labeled Smith sneers behind his blood-speckled mask. I’m prepared to offer them mercy, to let them return to Earth II without a fight, as long as they give Henry back unharmed.

That is, until he speaks.

“We don’t answer to you, alien slut. Get on your knees or we’ll kill you all. You’re outnumbered two to one. Get the rest of them to surrender or we’ll kill your little boy.”

Behind me, Galen growls, sub-bones cracking menacingly, causing Smith to smirk. “Ah, this must be the freak you’ve been spreading your legs for. Bring him to me.” Galen quivers with rage and the look in his eyes when they force him to his knees makes Smith swallow hard, but he continues. “Tell the rest of your people to come out and surrender or we’ll start killing these freaks one by one. Starting with him.” Smith jabs Galen’s temple with the tip of his gun for emphasis.

“I’ll comm the others,” Breccan says slowly. I half expect someone to object. Surely they wouldn’t risk everyone just for my little boy, but no one says a word. Tears are streaming down Molly’s face and she clings to Draven’s side as they are all forced to their knees next to Galen.

“Get on with it,” Smith says.

Breccan’s eyes may be black, but they’re glowing with an inhuman light. “I will, but first we want to see the little mortling. Make certain you haven’t harmed him. No one here will do a thing until we know he’s safe.”

Smith weighs his options, then lifts a shoulder and juts his chin to another one of the soldiers. After a long, harrowing moment, a soldier comes forward pushing a howling Henry, who is fighting for all he’s worth.

“Let go ob me. Gawen is going to kick you in the weenie when he gets baa-yack.”

I want to laugh and cry at the same time, but all I can do is barely breathe. The soldier brings a kicking, spitting, screaming Henry to Smith’s side, who immediately backhands Henry across the mouth.

Galen snarls, throwing off two of his guards, and I leap forward, firing my zonnoblaster in Smith’s direction. It misses, but the laser burst singes Smith’s left arm. This close to his heart.

“You’re going to regret that. Boy, are you going to regret that. Command was right. The prisoners here have been left on this planet far too long. They’ve gone rabid like the rest of these freaks. Good thing they sent us to exterminate the lot of you. But I think we’ll keep the ones who are left. I’m sure the higher-ups will find a good use for you.” Smith nods to Breccan. “Call your people. Get them out here, all nice like, or we’ll do the boy.”

Sweat fills my vision, stinging my eyes, but I can’t tear them away from Henry. My brave, sweet boy. He’s trembling next to the soldiers and he looks so small, but his expression is all Galen-like defiance.

“Our communication is down,” Breccan states. “You people made sure of that.”

Smith sneers. “I’m aware. This’ll do the job.” He pulls a device from his vest and tosses it at Breccan, who catches it in his massive, clawed hand. “Push and speak. They’ll hear you from a mile away.”

Tags: K. Webster The Lost Planet Fantasy
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