Chapter 43

 

Tayvis ducked into another bush. He wanted a weapon. He hated being chased, blind and unarmed. And outnumbered. Why hadn't the Patrol made a move? The transports and flitters just sat there as the light slowly grew.

And where had Dace gone? She'd disappeared into thin air. He'd scoured half the hillside looking for her without any luck. He'd found a lot of ex-slaves and Trythians. The humans were starting to band together, to organize and strike back. The Trythians were still running in circles, disorganized and panicked by the sudden turn of events.

He peered out. The hillside was clear, all the way to the base of one of the yellowish cliffs. He ran swiftly to the outcropping rocks at the base. He jumped, swinging himself up and onto the largest boulder. He lay flat on top, scanning the area from his better vantage point.

The action was farther away, towards the stream that meandered out of the narrow canyon. Most of the humans were still up that way, tucked into the better shelter of the canyon. Some of them would be trying to make contact with the transport. Tayvis toyed with the idea of going himself. No, he had to find Dace. Before the Trythians did.

She'd made herself more enemies. He was relieved and surprised they hadn't killed her when they had the chance. He wasn't about to admit to anyone but himself how weak he'd felt when he saw her hanging from the pole. He'd almost lost control when he thought she was dead. He was too vulnerable where she was concerned. He didn't care. He just wanted her safe.

He slipped from the boulder. There was no one this way. He started up the hill, picking his way around boulders.

"Tayvis." His name was barely above a whisper.

He whirled, crouched and ready to fight. Vance stepped out from behind a rock. Tayvis relaxed.

"Did Dace come this way?" he asked, keeping his own voice quiet.

"You lose her again?" Vance asked with a lopsided smile. "I saw her not long ago. She went up that way. Come on, I'll show you."

Vance started up the hillside, staying hidden in a buried stream that had long ago dried up after cutting a channel next to the cliff. Tayvis followed him, his steps silent on the sandy bottom.

"She's hiding with the others, just ahead," Vance whispered as he turned up a narrow side canyon. "Just beyond those trees."

A stand of thinly branched trees struggled towards the top of the narrow slit in the rock. Tayvis stopped at the entrance of the canyon. Something was off, he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

"Go on up," Vance urged. "There are only a few up there. They're hiding because Dace twisted her ankle climbing. She couldn't make it back to the others."

Tayvis took a few steps up the side canyon. Dace was hurt? He didn't notice Vance slipping behind him.

He stopped cold when he realized what was wrong. There were no tracks in the sand. He half turned back.

Something hard and heavy smashed into his head. He toppled to the sand. Pain fought with the need to stay conscious, to know what was happening.

Vance crouched over him, a bloody rock in one hand. "Enjoy your life here. You're so pathetic, bootlicker."

Tayvis growled. He pushed himself up, launching himself at Vance. Vance was ready for the attack. The rock struck home again. Tayvis collapsed to the sand, waves of pain and nausea rolling over him.

Vance shoved his limp form with one foot, rolling him into a crevice under the trees, tucked into the sand and hidden by leaves. No one would find him. No one would question his disappearance.

Vance ripped up Tayvis's tunic and used the strips to tie him securely hand and foot. He shoved a gag in the larger man's mouth, tying it tightly around his face.

Tayvis struggled against his bonds.

"Don't bother," Vance told him. "I had the same training you did." He stood, stepping out of Tayvis' reach. "You need to disappear. You'll ruin everything. Again. It wouldn't do for me to kill an old classmate, though. Someone will find you. When it's too late."

He turned his back on Tayvis and sauntered away.

Tayvis tugged at the bindings. He could work them off. Eventually. He swore to himself as he worked at the cloth on his hands. They were secure behind his back and already going numb. His head pounded. Blood seeped down his collar. He twisted his hands desperately. The binding held.

He thrashed, pulling with every bit of energy he had left. He knocked his head on a rock. Stars danced in front of his eyes. He fought the rising tide of darkness in his head but lost. He lay limp and barely breathing in the shade of the thin trees.