Barbarian’s Mate(15)

Just once, I wish she would look back. I wish she would see me, waiting on the horizon for her. Waiting to take care of her. To comfort her. To be her man and her mate and whatever else she needs.

But she never turns.

I hope wherever Jo-see is going, she gets there soon.





JOSIE


The ocean is beautiful.

After days of walking, my supplies are getting low, my feet feel battered, and I’m utterly exhausted. But when I hike up a rocky ridge and see the distant rolling, jade-green waves of the water? It’s something else. The outcropping I’m on ends abruptly and far below, I see gritty sand a darker shade of green than the water itself, and frosty, light green icebergs floating in the distant water. This is so cool.

I remove my snowshoes and take a seat on the ledge so I can relax and gaze out at the ocean. From my vantage point, I can see for miles. It’s really something. The waves are tranquil and the water looks so soothing. I pull out my trail mix pouch and eat a few crumbs as I enjoy the view. I don’t have much left, but I’m at my destination. Well, sort of. I don’t see anything that looks like the caves Harlow described, so maybe I’m in the wrong spot. I lick the last few crumbs from my fingers and ignore the grumbling of my stomach. It’ll have to last.

On a whim, I dig out the disc of glass from my bag. I’m a little ashamed to say I stole it from Harlow, but if the surgery machine is broken, does it even matter? Nothing else is half as useful, and I plan on using the heck out of this thing. I cup my fingers around the edges and hold it to my eye like I would a telescope. At first it makes my gaze blurry, so I try focusing with one eye closed, and things zoom into place.

Now I can see much further away. Excited, I use it to gaze down at the ocean. The water doesn’t look as green — or as soothing — a little closer. In fact, the waves look downright nasty, and I can see dark blobs scuttling on the shore.

A shadow flies overhead, and I put my ‘telescope’ down, glancing up. There’s a gigantic bird overhead, rushing past at a speed I’ve never seen before. Holy crap, it’s fast. I lift my spyglass again, but it moves so quick I can’t catch a view of it. Darn.

I turn back to the ocean, and peer out at the icebergs. There’s dark shapes on them that I can’t make out. Maybe the Not-Hoth version of seals? Ice otters? Something? A moment later, the waves undulate and a thin, yellowish snakelike thing erupts from the waves and snatches one of the dark shapes off of the iceberg and disappears under the water with it. I shudder.

Mental note: no swimming.

I move the telescope over the water, scanning. Mostly there’s nothing to see but more waves, but as I sweep over the distant horizon, a faint smear of lighter green against the water catches my eye. I try to focus in, but no matter how much I squint, I can’t see what it is. At first I think it’s another sea serpent, but when it doesn’t move, I realize it’s something else. Land, maybe? But it’s…green. Maybe I should check it out.

I turn my telescope back to the icebergs and see another dark shape flutter under the water.

Maaaaybe I won’t check out the green if it means going through Jurassic Park: Aqua Edition. Haeden would know what those things are. For a moment, I feel an unhappy pang of longing that has nothing to do with my cootie.

I put down my spyglass and rub my forehead, where a headache is starting.

It’s weird, but I miss Haeden. With all this travel, my cootie’s gone mostly silent, though I dream of Haeden at night and when I wake up, my chest is vibrating with resonance. That isn’t what makes me miss him, though. I miss his presence, knowing that he’s there for me. It’s strange, but no one’s ever really been there for me in my life. When the shit hit the fan, everyone else ran away. Not Haeden. He might glare and put up a fuss, but he’s always been there. Funny how I didn’t realize it until I left.

He’s still insufferable and a prick, but…he’s growing on me. Or was. I imagine what he’d say if he knew I went all the way out to the ocean on my own. He’d scowl, his tail flicking, and cross his big arms. You’re weak, Jo-see. Females must be protected. Humans cannot travel like the sa-khui.

I’m gleeful, imagining the smug look on his face changing to one of wonder as he realizes just what I’ve done. That I’m a tough cookie. And some of my enjoyment fades when I realize he’ll never realize what I’ve accomplished, because I’ll never see him again.

I hate the wistful ache in my breast. I’ve made my choice and I won’t cry over it. Another bird flies overhead and I squint at it. Eagles? This area reminds me of a (much, much colder) Pacific Northwest and there are eagles in that area. Probably not too safe to be up on the ridge, then. I’ll leave just as soon as I figure out where Harlow’s cave is.

I raise the glass again and this time, I scan the rocks. The cliff below shows nothing interesting, and I sweep up, up, up into the distance until I realize I’m staring at the base of the purple mountains, the ones that look like glass or rock candy. Pretty, but not what I want. Still, I can’t help but study them for a bit, because I’ve seen nothing like them before.

That’s when I notice the wreckage.

My spyglass sweeps over one mountain, and in the snow at the base there’s a dark shape half covered in snow. There are hard edges to it and a blinking red light, and the pit of my stomach curdles, sick.

It’s a ship.

It can’t be…can it?





10





JOSIE


When I decided to set off and become Ice Explorer Josie, I’d expected one of two things: sucking miserably at it and returning home, or finding Harlow’s cave and hiding out there until my cootie gave up.

I didn’t expect to find another spaceship.

I stare at the square. It’s not our ship. It’s not the one we came from. That one was near the peak of a granite-like mountain and this one is surrounded by purple rock-candy peaks. Ours had a breach in the hull on the top and the rest of the compartment we’d landed in was relatively secure. It was the only way we’d managed to survive the elements for a week despite no cold weather gear and no supplies. The snow had insulated us and our body heat kept us warm.

This wreckage is different. Even though it’s a square, it looks like one end is mangled, like a cereal box torn open at the bottom. There’s snow, but I see a blinking red light. Maybe it’s a distress beacon of some kind.

Oh, crap. What if there’s someone that needs a rescue and all they’ve got is me?

I put down my spyglass, thinking. Okay, panicking. A little panic’s totally justified, though. I don’t know what I’m going to do. We haven’t seen any ships fly overhead in the year and a half that we’ve been on Not-Hoth. No one’s tried to re-kidnap us.

It’s a trap, Admiral Ackbar’s voice says in my ears.

Yeah, it feels a bit like a trap. Of course, the more I think logically about it, the more I wonder.

A ship returned a few months after we’d arrived. They stole Kira again, shot Aehako and Haeden - oh crap, Haeden! - and left them for dead. Kira had saved the day when she crashed the ship and took an escape pod back to Aehako’s side. It’s a story that’s been told around the campfire over and over again. I’ve heard it a dozen times, mostly because I gleefully enjoyed the part where Haeden got his guts shot up.

Man, I’ve been a jerk to the guy. I feel a twinge of guilt and then shove it away. Focus, Jo.

Okay. Okay. I close my eyes, picturing Kira telling the story in her solemn voice. She’d set the spaceship on autopilot and pointed it at the distant mountains, where it had crashed. Both Aehako and Kira had seen the crash.

Distant mountains.

These mountains.

I exhale a breath of relief. That has to be it. This is the ship Kira crashed, and when she’d crashed it, there were no survivors. They were all already dead. It was a little…well, bloodthirsty, but it’s hard to feel sorry for someone that stole you from Earth and wanted to re-enslave you. I’m not sorry they’re dead.

But I still don’t know what to do.

Do I check out the wreckage and hope there’s something useful? Or do I go hunt down Harlow’s cave with its supplies?

Or do I somehow make a boat and check out the green smear in the distant waves that might be an island?

This feels like an ice-age version of House Hunters. Does Josie want adventure and an island cabana despite the dangerous location? Or will she choose a beachfront property…provided she can ever find Harlow’s cave? Or will she choose the house in the mountains, even though it might already be occupied?

I look around me. The cliff has greenery, but it’s scrubby and twisted, designed to cling to the rock through the snow and the high wind. There’s nothing around here that would make a canoe even if I knew how to make one, or a raft. And the thought of getting into that sea-monster infested water scares me.

“Island, you’re going to have to wait for another day,” I tell it. House one eliminated. Now, in true House Hunters fashion, I need to narrow it down to two choices.

I ponder this even as another dark shape moves through the sky, the shadow rippling over me. Whatever I decide, it’s not smart to stay here. I give another quick glance through the spyglass at the cliffs below, but I don’t see a cave. Shit. I turn my glass back to the wreckage, in the opposite direction.