Dream Unchained (23 page)

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Authors: Kate Douglas

BOOK: Dream Unchained
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Lights across the entire compound went out. Liz jerked to a stop and looked out over the plateau, but there was no sign of smoke. She spun around. Flames leapt above the trees near the main road far below the DEO-MAP road, and a huge cloud of black smoke rose into the twilight sky. “What the hell was that?”
“Something that interfered with your power. Let's go.”
“Lizzie! Wait. Any idea what happened?” Mac raced out of Cameron's cabin with Cam on his heels.
“Explosion was down there, near the main road. Power's out, so they must have taken out the main power pole just at the point where the wiring goes underground.”
“Shit.” Mac spun away, but Lizzie grabbed him by the arm.
“There's more. Xinot contacted Tor on the Gar ship. The team's injured, trapped in the same service bay where they arrived. They need help to get home.”
She glanced at Xinot, who stared blankly across the plateau, and knew he was contacting the others. “We're headed to the dream shack so we can try and reach them, give them a strong signal to follow back to Earth.”
“There's no power. The satellites are worthless.”
“We've got Nyrians, Mac. Pure power. C'mon.” She grabbed Xinot's arm and they took off for the dream shack with Mac and Cam on their heels.
The helicopter buzzed by, flying low overhead toward the far side of the plateau. The front door to the lodge flew open and the Nyrians who had been hiding out in the basement shelter spilled out onto the deck and raced for the dream shack. The reporter, Carl Waters, was with them, though Meg waited on the porch with her hands clasped over her heart.
Tara threw open the door to the shack as Xinot and Lizzie reached it. Both of them slipped inside. Kiera was moving things out of the way, making room for the huge number of Nyrians and team members trying to squeeze through the door.
Zianne was still in the recliner, conscious, but barely appearing to register all the activity. Liz couldn't think of her now, couldn't worry about Zianne or Mac. Not now.
Mac stopped just inside the door and shouted for everyone's attention. “Has Xinot explained what's going on? Okay. First thing, we need to power up the dishes, but the terrorists have taken out the main line down by the road. I've got a generator, but it's not enough. We need power—direct power to charge the system here, to get the array back on line immediately. We're talking minutes if we're going to get them off the ship in time.”
Kiera's guy, Sakel, raised his hand. “I'll organize power to the antennae. Teev, you can help. Mac? Where's the main line?”
“Power panel is behind the dream shack.” Mac was already headed out the door. “Follow me.”
Teev, Sakel, and most of the women quickly left the shack and followed Mac. The helicopter swept in overhead and landed in the open area in front of the lodge.
Dink leapt out with the camera under his arm. Nick shut the chopper down and ducked out the other side, then raced around the machine beneath the still spinning rotors with his head low.
“Dink!” Lizzie waved him over. “You guys need to go behind the shack and film this. The Nyrians are going inside the electrical system so we can power up the satellite antennae.”
Dink hardly broke stride before spinning away from the door and heading around the back, with Nick right behind. Bane and the others who'd been working along the fence line—Aza, Jesat, Dake, and Ankar—appeared inside the dream shack as glowing energy and immediately took their corporeal forms.
Bane went straight for Xinot and the brothers embraced. “Tor? You've spoken with him?”
Xinot nodded. “Briefly. He's injured. They've all had their energy disrupted but they can't risk taking human form. Rodie is injured, but they're not sure how badly. So is Nattoch. When they were shot, all were in the process of disassembling.”
“That's the worse time, when they're most vulnerable to injuries to their human flesh and energy disruption of their energy form. What do we do?”
Gunfire erupted just outside the shack. Dink, Carl, and Nick raced through the door as a large-caliber bullet hit the frame beside the open door and chipped a big chunk of concrete off the wall. The door was made of thick metal. Dink pulled it closed and locked it behind him.
Everyone had converged on the dream shack; while Lizzie and Xinot filled them in, the gunfire grew louder. Only Ralph and the four security guards remained near the boundary of the plateau, with instructions to take cover and just lay low if their area was overrun, but they had plenty of ammunition, good cover, and the knowledge they had to hold on only for a very short time before the mission either ended in success or failure.
After that, Mac had sent instructions to Ralph and the others that Roberts could do what he damned well wanted, as far as Mac was concerned. If the mission failed, there was nothing else they needed the satellite array for.
His team members aboard the Gar ship would die, and Zianne's soulstone would be lost. Yes, the other Nyrians had been saved and the Gar attack on Earth stopped. Their rampage through space, the deaths of untold worlds would end, but Lizzie knew that, right now, Mac wasn't thinking of his successes so far. He wasn't counting anything but what they'd not yet accomplished.
She watched as he walked slowly over to Zianne and knelt beside her. Took her limp hand in both of his and held it against the side of his face. She rolled her head to one side and stared at him, but there was no light in her eyes.
Lizzie grabbed Xinot's hand and prayed to his goddess. Nyria had to help them now. They were so close to success.
Much too close even to consider failure.
12
D
arkness had an unusual quality when you perceived it through a disassembled consciousness rather than seeing with eyes. Finn concentrated on the fascinating differences of perception, rather than the reality of his rather precarious situation.
He certainly still perceived pain, but the shock of it had softened until it was almost bearable. Almost.
Damn, but this was not how he'd expected to die, not with his disassembled molecules spinning in a sluggish circle in a dark service bay on an alien spacecraft far from home. He'd always sort of pictured himself getting shot by a jealous husband, or maybe a nice, clean aneurism while trying to make it with a beautiful young woman when he was, oh, say, about ninety.
It might not have been quite as depressing if his energy at least sparkled, but his colors were all wrong. Of course, Rodie's and Morgan's weren't any better.
In fact, Rodie's were worse, but she'd been badly injured. He wished he knew exactly how badly, but there was no way to tell unless she shifted to her corporeal form.
Duran had cautioned her. Actually, he'd told her quite bluntly, she was fucked if she shifted and discovered she was hurt too badly, because she might not be able to disassemble again and then she'd end up bleeding to death. Besides, there was no way to get her home if she was solid. Nattoch wasn't in any better shape. He'd thrown himself in front of Rodie to protect her when the guard fired on them. It had been a brave and selfless act, and he'd taken the brunt of the charge.
His molecules barely moved at all.
He won't die, Finn. At least not from the Gar weapon.
Of course not. Finn knew that. They were all going to get blown to bits when the ship imploded, but he kept his frustration to himself when he replied to Duran.
Nattoch has always seemed so powerful, almost omnipotent. I hate seeing him this way. Not merely because he's injured. For a man who is always so powerful, it feels wrong.
I know. I'm not used to it, either. He's always been the strongest among us, the one who's held us together when we've weakened. I pray to Nyria that he survives. That we all do.
Duran's mental voice sounded so depressed, Finn wondered if there was more bad news the Nyrian wasn't telling them. His energy was at a very low ebb as well. All of them had been weakened by that damned shot. The guard must have had the weapon set on its highest charge—a killing charge. Even Tor admitted they were lucky it hadn't killed them, because they'd been totally unprepared for that kind of attack.
They'd had no idea the Gar weapons were capable of so much destructive power. In hindsight, underestimating the enemy—one capable of killing off entire worlds—had been foolish. Foolish enough that it might have doomed all of them.
It still might.
But Tor had connected with his brother and even now the dream team was working on getting them home. Firing up the satellite dishes, creating a powerful link, one strong enough for all of them to ride back to Earth.
If only time didn't seem to crawl when he was in this form. The fact that their energy moved so very fast made everything else seem to take forever.
At least Tor had been keeping track. He said they had ten, maybe fifteen more minutes before the ship's systems began to fail. Within half an hour, life support for the Gar would degrade and the race as a whole would die.
That might have bothered Finn at one point, but not anymore. Not after their impromptu tour of that disgusting meat locker—one of many, according to Duran. The Gar's deaths would be much easier than what their victims had suffered. Row after row of gutted bodies, the agonized expressions on so many dead children, on the adults. No, he'd not be mourning the Gar.
Shortly after the Gar died, the ship would reach a critical point where the internal atmosphere could no longer stabilize the massive outer hull of the structure. It would collapse in upon itself and implode.
As to what would happen to Finn and the others with him? They didn't need atmosphere in this form, and they wouldn't be affected by the degradation of the ship's systems, but that final explosion would do them in. Arnec appeared to be the scientist in the group, and while he'd tried to keep his explanation simple, he'd still managed to lose Finn along the way.
Not an easy feat for any man. Finn was impressed. He was also scared to death, not something he'd expected, but he'd never really faced death before. It was one thing when you were actually fighting to stay alive, the way they'd done earlier when they'd actually fought the guards.
It was another thing altogether to be stuck here, spinning around in helpless swirls of disconnected molecules, waiting for something to happen. He had way too much time to think. Too much time to feel regret for things not done, words not said.
So much he wished he'd said to Lizzie. He felt as if they were just beginning to connect, and he could call it friendship as much as he wanted, but there was something more. Something deeper.
Now he might never find out what that was.
He glanced at Rodie, worried how she was holding up. Morgan had melded his energy with hers, and the two of them did look stronger. He wanted them to make it, wanted Morgan and Rodie to get that happily ever after that none of them had ever expected.
He'd gotten a taste of it with Tara and Duran, and it tore him apart, thinking of Tara without her man. She loved Duran so completely, just as Duran loved her. Talk about your forever love. They'd been together since before there'd been life on Earth. It was flat-out wrong that it should end here, in such an unsatisfactory way.
Stuck aboard a starship, waiting for the sucker to blow.
Lizzie's face filtered into his thoughts. He couldn't seem to stop thinking of her. Young, fresh, and filled with life. Board-straight brown hair framing a pixie's face and brown eyes twinkling with mischief. A friend without benefits—so far—and who would have thought she would come to mean so much to him in such a short time?
Patience had never been his strong suit, but damn it all, he wasn't ready to die. And somehow, some way, he'd have to make sure that didn't happen.
 
Another of the Irishman's errant thoughts flitted through Morgan's mind, and if he wasn't so pissed off right now, he might have enjoyed Finn's frustration. But Rodie was hurting and they had no idea how badly she'd been injured.
He really didn't think this was the end for them. It couldn't be, not when Rodie had Zianne's soulstone safe in her little fanny pack and they'd gotten everyone out of the engine room. All they had to do was get off this fucking spaceship before the sucker imploded.
No big deal, right?
Bolt's cloud of energy moved closer until he'd wrapped the two of them within his personal sphere of power. It felt almost like a hug to Morgan. A strong, warm hug. Bolt was stronger than either Morgan or Rodie, and he'd missed the worst of the blast, though he didn't have enough energy to return to Earth. Not the way he was now.
Nattoch had caught the worst of the Gar attack, poor bugger, and his energy was barely visible.
Bolt? How's Nattoch?
Alive. If we can get him to Earth, get him to one of those who can heal, we can save him. How are you doing?
Morgan thought about that for a moment. How the hell was he doing? He was used to depending on his physical strength as much as his mind. Worrying about no one but himself, and here he was, reduced to a slow spiral of tired molecules with his entire focus on the woman he'd wrapped within his own fading energy.
And yet, he'd not given up. He still felt as if they had a chance, which was unlike him. Normally he'd be totally freaking out by now, to have so much out of his control. The truth was, he really wanted to hit something—or someone—but that was out of the question.
It would certainly make him feel better.
I'm doing better than I probably should be, considering. Rodie's alive, but she's not conscious. In a way, I'm relieved that she's not alert because I'd be worried about her worrying about what was going to happen. Now it's just me, worried about Rodie. Period.
I'm worried about her as well. This way, we can share our strength and hold on until rescue comes.
Do you think it will come?
I do. Tor is stubborn, but his brother Xinot is even more stubborn. And Bane? The third brother is the worst of all. Plus, there is your dream team. And Mac. Mac is a very stubborn man. Twenty years chasing a dream? He won't give up. Not as long as there is hope.
Morgan couldn't believe Bolt was actually laughing. After a moment, the Nyrian managed to share what he'd found so funny. Morgan realized that maybe they did have something to smile about.
Rodie has Zianne's soulstone. There is no doubt in my mind they will bring us home. Mac will allow nothing else. He is a man who has spent his entire adult life and a fortune by any world's standards to follow what most would call an impossible dream, and that dream is all wrapped up in his love for Zianne. He will do what he must to save her. We have no need to worry, Morgan. He's not about to quit.
 
The dream shack rocked with the concussion as another explosion thundered across the plateau. “What the hell was that?”
“Forty-eight to go, Cam. They just blew another satellite dish.” Mac answered the kid's question with as much control as he could, but it wasn't easy when he'd put his entire life into this project and the bastards were blowing it up, dish by dish.
Grumbling, Cam stood off to one side and stared at the door. He was bare chested and still covered in paint. They'd rushed over here with Liz when the power failed, but those amazing paintings were still in Cam's cabin. So far, the terrorists hadn't come this far across the plateau, but Mac hoped like hell no one torched the cabins. Losing Cam's work would be a tragedy.
It might be the only record of what happened on the Gar ship if things continued to degrade. Hell, nothing was going the way he'd planned. They had emergency lighting here and in the safe room under the lodge, courtesy of the big generator that took over when the power went out, but it wasn't enough to power the entire array. It did, however, keep the dials on the control panel lit. Two of those denoting satellite dishes had now gone dark. They couldn't afford to lose many more.
He checked the clock. Seven minutes had already passed since he'd learned of the danger his team was in on the Gar ship. They could have no more than three minutes left; they might have as much as ten. Maybe more, maybe less, it didn't matter. Any way you looked at it, they were running out of time.
And that meant Zianne was running out of time.
There was a sparkle of light in the shack, and his heart practically leapt out of his chest, but it wasn't one of the guys from the Gar ship.
“Dake!” Kiera shoved past Mac and grabbed the big guy's hands. “Are you okay? What's going on?”
“We've almost got the power grid ready to go back up—it's taking time because we have to adjust our output to the correct type of current—but the idiots are blowing the dishes. Ralph says he thinks they've got explosives on a couple more. We can't afford the interruption to the signal once we link to the ones on the ship. Aza, Jesat, and I are going back out to see what we can do. There are enough of the others to power the grid. It took just three of us to run the whole damned Gar ship, so there's no problem with our going to help Ralph. You need to be ready to link your minds and reach for the ones on the ship.”
He leaned close and kissed Kiera one more time. Then he quickly stepped around Mac, walked over to the recliner where Zianne lay as if she slept, and took her hand. Energy glowed around her body for just a few seconds, then seemed to soak directly into her pale skin. Dake turned and put a big hand on Mac's shoulder. “She is close to death. Hopefully, that will help her hold on a bit longer. I don't know for sure. I'm afraid to give her too much. None of us has ever gone without their soulstone for such a long time. I wish I could be more positive, Mac. Zianne is a heroine to all of us. We don't want to lose her.”
Mac nodded as Dake dissolved into light and disappeared. He'd already known he was losing Zianne. Her life force was difficult to find. She'd been a constant presence in his heart and his mind when they'd been together so long ago.
Now, there was barely a whisper. He'd found himself praying to Nyria throughout the day. Zianne believed so strongly in her goddess, and he was a desperate man. He'd beg anyone he thought might save her.
But it was just as important that he save the array. Mac grabbed his cell phone and called Ralph. “What have you got?”
Nothing good, that was for sure. Damn it all. He rested his forehead in his palm while he talked briefly with Ralph, but after a moment he ended the call. At least he'd let Ralph know that three of the Nyrians were returning to help where they could. It wasn't much, but it might slow the attack.

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