Zhor nodded, but he hadn’t accepted what Baden had said as truth, couldn’t digest it. The last comment infuriated him enough that he broke off any attempt to discuss the situation further, however.“She has taken nothing. That part, I know, is a lie.”
“You cannot know that.”
Zhor’s jaw tightened.“I can and I do know it.”He shook his head.“She is not like that.”
“She is not one of us—not like us. You cannot know the way of her mind.”
“I know.”
Grasping Ah-na’s arm, he led her away from the village wall.
“I guess this means we aren’t going to spend the night here?” Annika guessed, wondering what had transpired between Zhor and the village man. Some discussion that involved her and wasn’t pleasant, she was convinced, although she hadn’t understood nearly enough of the conversation to grasp what it was about beyond that.
“No safe,” Zhor responded distractedly, trying to dismiss the discussion and think of some place they might stay the night in relative safety when he had been certain this place would shelter them.
Unfortunately, nothing occurred to him and spending the night exposed was not an option—at any time. The fact that Ah-na was being hunted made it all the more important to find a safe place for her.
Actually, that was not altogether accurate. One place did occur to him but he dismissed it at first as being more dangerous in and of itself than camping in an exposed position. After some thought and a relatively brief search for an alternative, however, he revised that opinion. He could not simply fly around with her strapped to his back all night or even half the night. It was sapping his energy and strength—which left both of them dangerously exposed and vulnerable.
In any case, he managed to convince himself that so much time had passed that the threat had passed with it. The city represented less of a threat than a lack of shelter.
He did not waste more time debating the matter once he had arrived at that conclusion—however unsupported it was by anything more than current need. He took as direct a path as possible and settled in the first structure he came to that looked to be relatively intact and stable. Fortunately, his first assessment proved accurate. There were some weak places in the floor and holes where the weather and time had created an ever widening crevasse, but he did find a sheltered spot large enough for the two of them to curl up in his furs and rest.
* * * *
As convinced as Zhor was that the abandoned city offered the most protection from anything that might be a problem—beyond the sickness that might still linger—he slept only fitfully. The information he had gotten from his childhood friend, Baden, was mostly at fault. Every time he cycled toward lighter sleep patterns, those thoughts rose with his consciousness and woke him enough to make it difficult to reclaim sleep.
He had been worried that Ah-na’s people might come to reclaim her.
Worried primarily about himself, he realized with more than a touch of disgust.
It had not once occurred to him that her people might be a danger greater than the daily threats they faced of being attacked or running out of food or clean water.
Was there any place on the entire planet—given the capabilities of her people—that would be safe?
Would she be just as safe anywhere in the area that he could find that was defensible?
Or safer if he took her further from the place where her ship had crashed?
He didn’t know, and it was that uncertainty that kept him awake more than asleep.
Not surprisingly, he woke feeling like hell.
He dismissed it as he lay staring at Ah-na’s sleeping face. He did not think he would ever grow tired of waking to see her beside him.
It was the fear that she would vanish that tormented him.
Shaking that thought, he sat up and examined the place he had taken for shelter.
In the light of day it looked far worse than he had realized.
“Well, this will certainly not do. Not at all,”he muttered under his breath.
Ah-na stirred and looked at him questioningly.
He struggled with the temptation to make love to her.
“I believe you will be safe here. It is not comfortable, but the city has been abandoned for many years and most are too frightened of the disease to come into the city for any reason.”He frowned thoughtfully.“I do not know of any place where you would be safer than the city. I wish I did. I am not fond of the notion of living in a dead city, particularly when there is no way to know if the sickness is still here and could strike. But that is a maybe. The other is a certainty.
