Something from long ago.
Or not so long?
It was hard to remember through the pain.
A hand touched his shoulder, and he hissed at the contact.
He took a deep breath.
An unwelcome medicinal scent filled his lungs, corrupting him worse than the radiation.
He coughed, then fell, his legs weak from the planet’s attack on him.
The metal grating of the floor pressed into his hands and knees, adding to his pain.
But it grounded him too, reminded him of his purpose.
Of why he was here.
And for whom.
Chapter four
“Shit. No,” Wynn muttered, reaching for him as he collapsed. If he passed out completely, there was no way she could move him on her own. He was too tall, too heavy.
She gripped his shoulder, and he groaned.
“I’m sorry,” she said for the millionth time.
He pushed back, his hands braced against his knees, his head bent. Like his cheeks, the skin on the back of his neck and scalp was blistered, peeling in places.
The inner panel beeped. Wynn lifted her gaze and noted the authorization to proceed. Her hand lifted to disengage her helmet, but she hesitated.
Removing his garments first made more sense when he’d been so saturated. It would have soaked deep into his jacket, his gloves, his boots, and could affect her in harmful ways. And the interior door wouldn’t unlock until the process eradicated all radiation.
“I need to get this off of you,” she said loud enough for her voice to carry through her helmet. “We need to decontaminate your clothes.”
A tortured sound emerged from his throat, one of denial. Her hand hovered above his shoulder.
“I’m sorry.” Her stomach churned with what she had to do.
He twitched, shifted back on his haunches, then reached a shaky hand up to his shoulder. She stepped to the side and grabbed hold of his collar. The slick material contracted beneath her glove, startling her. She’d thought it the same as what a flight-suit would feel like, but it flexed in a softer way.
The man hissed a breath as he shrugged out of his jacket, bringing her back to her task. She guided the garment over his broad shoulders to reveal the black shirt beneath. It hugged his muscular arms.
The weave of it caught her eye as she pulled his jacket all the way off. Almost organic, the fabric was nothing like she’d ever seen before, like webbing but dense. The jacket fell from his body and slapped onto the floor. She opened the wall compartment and shoved it inside.
“Gloves and shirt,” she said, her voice tight with concern. “Everything,” she added. “We can’t go inside with this much radiation.”
She stared at his shoes and swallowed around the lump in her throat. What would his feet look like after walking that far in contaminated mud?
“Boots,” she croaked. “We’ll start there.” She didn’t know if she could get them off without his help.
He twitched, then shifted his weight to stand. Wynn ducked down, lifting his arm so she could slide beneath. A groan vibrated through his chest and into her shoulder.
“Sorry,” she whispered, guiding him to the wall. “That’s it. Just lean here.”
She knelt in front of him and undid the first clasp. The style of the boots was new too. They weren’t CORE-issue, but something like it, the material having that unusual organic quality. The clasp wasn’t magnetic,but some sort of self-adhering fastener. She ran her thumb against the tiny barbs on one side. They flexed, sticking to the material of her glove.
