Born of Fire

He cast her a dark glare. “You’re not helping.”


Not helping? She wanted to choke him. “You’re lucky you’re still breathing and not limping.”

Vik swooped down and literally crawled into Syn’s pack like it was a mother’s cocoon.

Shahara scowled at him. “What are you doing?”

He poked his beak out. “I don’t wanna die, man. They’re not playing. Have you seen how many of them are out there?” He shivered. “One just took a shot at me, so unlike you morons, I’m hiding. Hiding is nice.”

She huffed at him. “You can’t die, Vik. You’re a mechbot.”

He vanished completely into the pack. “They can pull me apart and reprogram me. Trust me, that’s death. Now shush before they find us. Remember—hide, people, hide.”

Syn growled low in his throat, then he loosened his hold on her arm. “Okay, I have an idea. Do what I do and step where I step. And no matter what, don’t fall behind. I won’t wait for you.”

Her heart thundered in her ears. They were dead. No ifs, ands or buts about it. All they were doing right now was delaying the inevitable.

Inclining her head to Syn to acknowledge the fact that she was an idiot to follow him anywhere, she whispered a silent prayer.

Syn stepped around the unit and opened fire on the rover with his blaster. She bit her tongue to keep from protesting his stupidity.

That was not going to help. It was like swatting a three-ton vorna with a shoe.

“No!” Vik screamed as he rummaged through the backpack while Syn ran at the rover. “Lemme out! Lemme out! I picked the wrong pack. I wanna be with the nonsuicidal bonebag!” He stuck his head out, then quickly vanished inside again. “For the record, Sheridan, you weren’t this stupid when you were young.”

While Syn continued shooting, the rover’s lights swung about them in a crazy frenzy as the pilot tried to dodge Syn’s blasts.

They opened fire on Syn.

I am a complete and utter moron. Taking a deep breath, she pulled out her blaster and did just what he did. She opened fire on the rover.

Like this is going to help . . .

But unlike Syn, she aimed for the lights to keep them from blinding Syn.

Syn paused as the lights went out and Vik finally stopped shouting profanities at him. A slow smile spread across his face as Shahara joined him. “Nice shooting, love.”

The dim light played in her hair, making it look even softer than he knew it to be. She was beautiful. “Again, it’s what I’m good at.”

And she topped him for accuracy.

But the reprieve didn’t last as the gunners returned to shoot at them again.

“Move!” he shouted, running directly toward the rover as it lifted up to come at them one more time.

Shahara did as ordered, and with every step that took them closer to their pursuers, all she could think was that they were absolutely nuts for even attempting this.

Or worse. It could be the last mistake either of them ever made.

The trackers’ blasts scattered wildly as they tried to kill the two of them while keeping them from shooting something they needed to fly the craft. If only she could get one good shot at their fuel lines . . .

Syn continued to fire at them, and the rover finally dove back below the top of the building.

Kneeling down on the roof, he pried open a small trapdoor. He lowered himself through the hole, then popped his head up to look at her. “C’mon.”

Shahara glanced down into the dark, narrow crawl space. It looked far from hospitable, and she really hated cramped spaces. But any desire she had to argue died the instant she heard the rover’s engines approaching again.

She jumped into the hole.

Gah, it was unbearably tight even for her. How he stood it, she had no idea. “Where are we?”

“How would I know? I’ve never been here before.” He latched the door closed behind her by reaching over her shoulder.

“Then how did you know this was here?”

“I saw the opening and decided this was a better place to be than on top of the roof, in plain sight.” He pulled out sealant and pushed it into the crevices to keep the Rits from coming in on top of them.

“So which way do we go?”

He pulled Vik out. The mechbot dangled in his hand like an angry pet. “Go scout, buddy.”

“Screw you, Syn. Really.” Turning into a large rat, Vik scurried off, but not before calling back over his shoulder. “Bet you’re wishing you’d made me bigger . . . and with weapons.”

Ignoring him, Syn, on all fours, headed to the right at a much slower pace.

She hissed as her back scraped against the tight walls and bit into her flesh. “You know, I’m getting really tired of following after you like a lost puppy.”

Pausing, he laughed evilly. “Feel free to stop any time you want to.”

She heard clicking sounds across the roof that she was sure were hundreds of feet. Well, okay, maybe not hundreds, but it was certainly more people than she wanted to confront on her own.