Escape (64 page)

Kieran sighed. “Okay.” Her eyes opened and she saw him nodding. “I'll spend the night, but you realize there's a chance you'll reinfect me.”

Jilly shook her head. “It doesn't matter. We've been in close contact ever since the EMP test; it's too late to isolate yourself now. Besides the point wasn't to eliminate the virus completely the first time around. It was to see if our treatment might work, and whether or not it would have any serious side effects.”

“So far so good,” Kieran replied, smiling. “Well, come on, then, let's get some sleep. By morning those things will be gone and we can get rid of the virus for good.”

Jilly returned his smile and waved her hand across the door controls to her room. The door opened with a
swish
, and they walked inside.

* * *

Even with Kieran sound asleep behind her, his body molded tightly to hers, Jilly lay wide awake, thinking, her ears straining to pierce the silence, to pick out even the slightest irregular noise.

And there were plenty of those. Not long after they'd gone to bed, Kieran's breathing had quieted to the steady rythym of sleep, and she'd been left to listen to the resultant silence. A soft
ping
had promptly split that silence, and her heart rate had accelerated and the bitter tang of adrenaline had coursed through her suddenly dry mouth.

She'd been lying frozen, listening in wide-eyed terror ever since. Eventually, her racing heart began to slow to a more comfortable rhythm.

Tick-tick-tick tsssss
 
.
 
.
 
.

Another spike of adrenaline tingled through her system. Half a second later she realized it was just the climate control system whirring to life.

Stop it, Jilly,
she chided herself.
There's nothing out there. It's just your imagination.

A barely distinguishable
swish
came from the corridor outside their room
—
like the sound of a door opening.
What?

Swish.

The door closing.

Jilly sat bolt upright, her palms sweating, heart pounding in her chest.

Behind her, Kieran groaned, and she heard his groggy voice: “What?”

“I thought I heard something,” Jilly whispered.

“Like what?”

“Like a door opening, then closing again.”

Kieran inhaled deeply and stretched. “Maybe it was Ferrel going for a midnight snack.”

“Maybe. Or maybe Gallian came back to life.”

Jilly felt Kieran's weight shift behind her as he sat up. She felt his hands gently encircle her waist and his chin lean on her shoulder. Jilly thought about saying something to discourage him. He was taking advantage of her vulnerability.

But it felt nice.

“You saw him,” Kieran said. “He hadn't even moved
—
what was left of him, anyway. I don't care how resilient the virus makes us; he's not getting up from whatever Ferrel did to him. He wasn't even recognizable anymore.”

“Okay, but what if it was something else. What if it was one of those creatures? What if they found a way in?”

“And what if it was just Ferrel going to get a midnight snack?”

Jilly turned to look at him. “What if it wasn't?”

“You want me to go take a look?”

Jilly pursed her lips. “No. I want
us
to go take a look.”

Kieran inhaled deeply again, and his arms left her waist. He shuffled to the edge of the bed, and she watched him pause briefly there, reading the weary regret in his thoughts. He didn't want to leave the warm bed behind, and he didn't seriously think there was a problem worth investigating. He was just going to set her mind at ease.

Jilly smiled as Kieran eased himself off the bed. He was a good friend. He turned to her and held out a hand to help her up; his head was cocked to one side, his red eyes glittering curiously. Jilly took his hand, and was promptly yanked to her feet. Then she frowned as she read the direction of his thoughts and the unspoken question behind his curious expression:
A good friend? Is that all, Jilly? Is that all I am to you?

She turned away, abruptly conscious of the fact that she was standing before him in nothing but a loose black t-shirt and the bottom half of her underwear. She shuffled over to the pile of clothes and equipment she'd left at the foot of the bed and began pulling on a set of tough gray pants.

He
was
just a friend to her. Despite their complicated history, that was what worked best with them. Friendship. Asking for anything more seemed like an invitation for failure and heartbreak. You can't have everything with your best friend, give your heart to someone who knew it so intimately and all the places it could break. Not without the risk that they'd later hand it back in tiny little pieces. No. Friendship was more sustainable.

Jilly shook her head and sent a searching glance behind her to check Kieran's progress. He was busy strapping on an equipment belt, his back turned to her. She couldn't help but admire his trim, muscular frame
—
every bulge showing through the formfitting black bodysuit which went with the patroller armor he'd scavenged. It was easy to remember how she'd fallen for him, time and again, when her guard was down and her inhibitions stripped away. But it was the headaches in the morning which always got her. The sheer panic which gripped her after she awoke to find herself lying next to her best friend.

How did something like that happen? Not once, but multiple times
—
like she secretly had no regard for their friendship at all. Like she
wanted
to wreck it. And Kieran was always so maddeningly understanding afterward:
“You were drunk. You didn't mean to go that far. I know you just want to be friends.”

Jilly frowned. And what about him? What did he want? Why did he never excuse his actions, saying it was just the alcohol that made him do it?

Because he has no excuse. Because he has no regrets.

Her frown deepened until her whole brow was wrinkled. So why did he never seem to care that they always went back to being just friends? Why did he let her use him and cast him aside, over and over again? And how did their friendship survive that kind of beating if he secretly cared and wanted more?

Could his heart really be that hard to break? No. No, the most logical answer was that he was using her as often as she was using him. It was easy and convenient for both of them to sometimes unwind by ending up in each other's arms.

And what was wrong with that?
Friends who sleep together
—
now and again
—
happens all the time
.
 
.
 
.
 
.

“A good friend? Is that all, Jilly? Is that all I am to you?"
Kieran's earlier thoughts echoed through hers as she watched him sling his rifle over his shoulder. Jilly cleared her throat noisly and said, “Let's go.”

Chapter 43

K
ieran looked both ways once they were out in the hall, shook his head, and thought:
I don't see anything.

Well, let's keep looking.

Kieran turned to her with a look of strained patience.
It's a big ship, Jilly.

She planted her fists on her hips.
I can search by myself. Go back to bed if you're scared.

Kieran frowned.
No. I said I'd take a look, and I meant it. I was just pointing out the fact that we can't search the whole maledicted thing without spending the whole night to do it, so I have a better idea.

Jilly cocked her head.
What?

We go to the cockpit and check the security holos. You said you heard a door open and close, right? So we check the logs for this corridor around the time that you heard the sound.

Jilly smiled.
You're pretty smart, you know that?

Yeah.
Kieran nodded.
Yeah, I know.
He lifted his watch to eye level and checked the time.
My watch says 18:21 standard, but there's no telling what the ship is on
—
probably Da Shon local, whatever that is. Anyway, it took us, what? Ten minutes from when you heard the noise to get out here? So say you heard it at 18:05 to be safe. We check the time again when we're accessing the logs and use the difference from 18:05 till then as the amount of time to backtrack through the holo logs.

Jilly's eyebrows were raised and she was regarding him with a half-crecent of a smile.

What?

Nothing.
She turned away, and started walking down the left side of the corridor.

Kieran caught up to her in a few quick strides, his rifle held in a loose, one-handed grip at his side, just in case, though he didn't really expect to find anything.

A relative silence passed in their telepathic conversation as they payed more attention to their own thoughts than to each other's. They passed the open gunwell again and saw to their relief that Gallian's corpse was still lying at the end of the narrow corridor.

Eventually Jilly grew curious enough to peek into Kieran's mind and see why he was so quiet. A luridly familiar scene flashed into her mind's eye, stealing her breath, and she abruptly stopped walking.

Kieran!

He turned to her, looking nonplussed.

Her cheeks were burning red, and she angrily considered that he was the one who should have been embarassed.
Have you forgotten that I can read your thoughts?

Kieran smiled then, but he looked away, showing that he had at least some shame to show for himself.
See, this is why we're not born with telepathy. You know, just because you can read my mind, doesn't give you the right to.

Jilly actually snorted at that, then lurched into a quick stride, putting as much distance between them as possible. Kieran caught up a second later and matched her long, indignant strides with his own.

You know, some women would take it as a compliment that
—

I'm not
some women.
I'm me. And I'm your best friend! Not your
 
.
 
.
 
.
your
 
.
 
.
 
.

Mental diversion?

Sexual fantasy! Call it what it is, because that's what it is, and
 
.
 
.
 
.
Jilly's thoughts trailed off and she shook her head.
You should be ashamed of yourself!

But Kieran was smiling. She could see him out of the corner of her eye, and his smug satisfaction just made her angrier.
Come on, Jilly. It's not as though we haven't been there and done that, you know? It's more like a memory than a fantasy.

Well don't go wallowing in your memories! You may as well be watching a video of me in there! How can you even think about sex at a time like this?

Obviously you haven't been in a lot of guys' heads.

Obviously!

Well
 
.
 
.
 
.

Well, what?

I'm sorry if I offended you.

Good! You should be sorry! Deus, Kieran! Just
 
.
 
.
 
.
keep me out of it, okay?

And with that, they retreated to the safety of their own thoughts again. Jilly was perversely tempted to check if Kieran was still dwelling on his
mental diversions
, but she managed to restrain her curiosity.

By the time they passed the sign pointing ahead to the cockpit and left to the portside hangar, Jilly risked another glimpse of his thoughts, and found herself surprised yet again. His mind was running in bemused circles.

Why was she so angry? Was it because she's really not interested, or just because she had no idea guys' thoughts so frequently dwell on sex? Maybe she thought I was objectifying her. Any woman would be upset about that, regardless of her feelings
.
 
.
 
.
 
.
Right?

Jilly felt guilty for peeking into his thoughts without letting him know, so she nodded to the open doors to the bridge deck which were looming up ahead.
Looks like we're there.

Yeah
 
.
 
.
 
.
looks like.