Page 4
He sat up and looked at the surrounding devastation. A little of his amusement died. Maybe he had messed up. But it was just a gross warty toad thing. Correction, a rare sapo explosivo that got Wren’s panties in a knot every time she discussed it with him.
He frowned. Yeah, when he thought about it, there was a clue in the name that this gross explosive situation could happen.
He should have read the mission briefing, but there were so many creatures they needed to study that it blurred into a big mess of numbers, stats, and boredom. He wasn’t a biologist like Wren. He was the hired muscle. The reject hired muscle. What did she expect from him?
Striker turned his head. It sounded like Wren was tossing around the equipment behind the rock.
He wiped down his protective suit, stood, and walked around to join her. She was stiff backed and refused to turn when he got near.
“Hey, I didn’t mean to screw things up. I thought I could catch the slimy guy. I was planning on herding him toward the cage when he doubled back.”
“Because you scared him by clomping around with your giant feet. We had it set up. It would have worked.” She still hadn’t turned to face him, and there was a tremor in her voice.
His humor died, and his gut twisted. He enjoyed teasing Wren, but he’d gone too far. These missions meant a lot to her. “I’ll make it up to you. I’ll take you out tonight when we’re back on the ship.”
“I’m not going out with you. I have this mess to sort out when we get back. Cleo will boot me from the team for this fuck up.” She whirled around. The anger in her eyes made him take a step back. She rarely got this pissed with him. “Why can’t you just follow protocol? It’s not that difficult.”
His fingers flexed. “It’s also not that interesting. We could have been here for hours. This way was quicker.”
“This way also failed.” Her small hands clenched into fists. It looked like she wanted to punch him.
“I’ll take the blame for this one. You won’t get in trouble. And we’ve got something. After all, I got most of the sapo on me.” He tried so hard not to laugh as a large chunk of gooey toad slime dripped off Wren’s arm and landed on the ground.
“That’s useless. It’s been contaminated by the dirt and us. It’ll be no good for species replication.”
“What can I do to make it up to you? Anything. You name it, and—”
“Wait!” She grabbed the scanner. “There’s something moving out there. It could be another sapo. It’s mating season. He could have found himself a mate.”
“Then let’s go get her.”
Wren grabbed his arm. “No, you wait here. Keep your hands off the sapos. This one’s on me.”
“Where you go, I go. Remember, I’m your indispensable backup.” He tapped her helmet.
“You’re my something,” she muttered. “Let’s move it. But stay out of the way. I’m in charge.”
He grinned. He loved it when she was bossy.
They scouted around for several minutes but saw no sign of another warty guy or girl leaping around.
An alarm alerted in Striker’s helmet. He checked his tank filter. “Wren, I’m down to ten percent oxygen. You will be, too.”
“Just another few minutes,” she said. “We’re close. She could be underground, though. I don’t see any signs of life up here.”
“No can do. We retreat when the tanks go below ten percent. No air, we die.”
She scowled at him through her helmet and checked her own tank readings. “I’m on eleven percent. I’ll keep going. You go back if you want to.”
“I know you hate it, but we’re partners. If one of us retreats, the other has to. The rules are the rules. You should know. You love them so much.”
She flicked him a glance. “And you’re the one who likes to take risks.”
“You want to see me die?”
“Some days, I definitely do.”
He looked back at the carnage he’d left behind. “I did apologize.”
