“Where the fuck did she go?” Caleb’s voice.
Oh my god, they don’t see me.
“Sandy’s dead.” Zack choked.
“Forget Sandy. We’re going to be dead, if we don’t find Chloe. The Progg is pissed.”
Afraid to move, but more scared to remain a sitting duck, she rolled under the pickup truck, scraping her abraded skin on the hot asphalt.
“You go that way, I’ll go this way. She couldn’t have gotten far.” A second later, Caleb’s feet stepped off the curb in front of the pickup truck.
Chapter Five
Rok was feeling stronger, not quite himself but much better.
Not so Capt. Xenyth. The commander had rallied the morning of the funerals two days ago but then took a turn for the worse and hadn’t left his sick bed since. Gray skin was sloughing off, and his eyes gleamed with fever. Sometimes he seemed to be delirious, tossing, turning, mumbling, and crying out. When he was awake and coherent, Rok brought him water and tried to get him to eat. The captain drank some but refused food. Rok had never felt so helpless; he had no idea what to do for him.
Progg showed no fear. Theyfeltno fear, so it shamed him to admit even to himself he was scared. If his commanding officer died, he’d be alone on an alien planet, cut off from other units, unable to contact anyone.
He knew better than to pray to Zok for deliverance. One gave glorytoZok; one did not beg forfavors. Zok blessed the brave and powerful, not the weak. Asking for help proved you didn’t deserve it.
A Progg never gives up. Buck up, soldier!
Failure to get promoted was the least of his problems right now, but he would continue to strive to distinguish himself. What else could he do? Giving up would be tantamount to admitting he wasn’t officer material.
It would be humiliating to become the parental disappointment. His parents had considered his older brother weak, subpar, unlikely to amount to much, and had put their pride in their younger son. Yet Grav had achieved the enviable position of aide to Commander Drek. He would have been right in the thick of the battle—while Rok had been sidelined in the second wave.
I need one good opportunity, one act of valor to prove myself.Even if it didn’t lead to promotion, if no one else knew what he’d done,hewould know, and the voices inside calling him a failure would quiet.
He’d been thinking about his brother a lot and had checked the outdated campaign schedule. The admiral had been stationed about 200muh-rugasoutheast of Rok’s location. Maybe Grav was still alive and had remained in that area. By virtue of his position, Gravwould have been kept apprised of the status of the campaign and troop movements. If anybody would know what was going on, he would.
Rok went to check on the captain. His labored breathing sounded more like a death rattle than normal respiration. He’d stopped coughing, which Rok had taken as a positive sign but now realized was the opposite—Xenyth had weakened too much to cough.
Did he still have a fever? When Rok had been ailing, he’d felt hot, burning up.I should touch him and find out.He recoiled at the idea. One never touched another Progg, let alone a superior officer, without permission. One rarely touched another person at all. During mating, physical contact was unavoidable, and a parent had to tend to a child, but other than those instances, they avoided physical contact.
The captain opened glassy, unfocused eyes. “Rok? Are you there?”
“Yes! How are you feeling, Captain?” He reached for a bedside jug. “Water?”
“No. Listen…listen to me. I will soon be joining Zok in battle,” he said, his voice weak, shaky, almost inaudible.
“No…no.” He shook his head in denial of his own conclusion. “You can beat this. I survived. IfIdid, you can, too,” he contradicted his commanding officer, a grievous offense.
“Truth does not change because it is hard to face. When I am gone…” His voice faded away.
“Captain!”
Xenyth’s mouth worked to get the words out. “You must…carry on. Do not concede, do not surrender, do not retreat. Follow…the last set of orders and do not give up.” His breath rattled in his chest. “Zok…be with you.” The light in his eyes extinguished.
* * * *
“May you fight valiantly in Zok’s army.” Rok fired, freeing Xenyth’s body from its physical form, releasing his atoms to the cosmos. He holstered his weapon.
“Where the hell is everybody?”
Rok pivoted, checking for the silver medallion before lifting his gaze and recognizing a familiar face. “You were supposed to report two weeks ago,” he said in English, his translator enabling him to understand and speak most major Earth languages.
“I had nothin’ to report ’til now.” Out of his T-shirt pocket, Knife extracted a small pack, tapped out a white stick, placed it between his lips, and then lit thetip. He inhaled a deep breath and then blew out a stream of noxious, stinky smoke. “Where’s the captain?”
