The Soul Eaters (The Thin Hex Line Book 1) by Gwyndolyn Russell (100 best novels of all time .txt) 📗

He could hear Jackal hiss from the pain. Before Reaper could even get up, a foot hammered into the ground next to him. Then another foot.

Reaper rolled away so he could safely get up.

A cloak of smoke and fur whipped across his face. Reaper scooted backwards on his rear. Fenris had caught up and just in time. While Reaper would be happy to never see that creature again, he was grateful it came back to them. It could deal with the monsters while they escaped.

Jackal was stuck in the middle of the fight. He shielded his head with his arms and laid flat on the ground. Reaper would have tried to get to him, but there was no way he could make it through the dancing of the two creatures. Reaper could only back away and wait for a window.

The creatures kicked Jackal around as they fought. Wires and bits of flesh rained down over him. The air knocked out of his lungs. At some point, one of them stepped on his leg. The snapping of bone cracking through the choir of roars and cries like a bolt of lightning. Jackal screamed. Held onto his leg.

He blacked out.

TEN

Two medics were already at the shuttle bay with a stretcher and a toolbox of supplies. They knew only part of the damage received by Jackal and came prepared for immediate treatment. The doors opened up, the soldiers, and the only survivor of the Utopia, piled out, leaving barely conscious Jackal lying on the floor with Reaper watching over him.

They watched the medics rush into the shuttle with a stretcher. Jackal was swiftly placed onto the stretcher. They stuck a needle in his arm, hung a bag of saline to a pole that was screwed into one end of the stretcher.

They brought him straight to the medical bay. One medic led the way while the other guided the floating stretcher. When one noticed blood forming droplets on Jackal's ripped up pants, he quickly wrapped it in a towel. The last thing they needed now was a biohazard in the ship.

"We hope he will be well." Fauriei looked up to Reaper.

He smiled. "Jackal will be just fine. It's sort of annoying, but he's always okay."

"We suppose the Great Tree of Life watches over him closely."

"Something sure does." He noticed how Fenris was blatantly staring at Jackal as they rolled him away. He got the sense of dread from the strange creature.

"Let me show you where you can stay." Reaper held a hand out to her.

"It would be nice to rest." She took his hand.

As they headed through the Syndicate, they chatted about trivial things. Life as a nomad compared to life as a soldier. The things they liked to do to relax after a hard day at work. Reaper found Fauriei to be admirable. She was a powerful woman who accepted the world’s weight upon her shoulders. While most fleebeeron end up in politics, promoting democracy and peace for all living creatures, including those as simple as amoebas, Fauriei had her own reasons.

She knew there were truly oppressed species out there, and she was determined to give them the freedom they deserved. To do that, she had to fight in the political arena. She claimed to be quite successful in her tasks, yet enjoyed spending her time as a charity worker to those who needed immediate help. At least she had the financial backing to do so.

Fauriei was heartbroken at losing the Utopia. In life, it truly was its namesake, allowing all who wished to lie down arms and live in peace with no worries for societal needs, or money, to do so.

She was a soldier of the pen, that much Reaper was sure of. He wondered if he could do the same, yet when it came down to it, his hand fell to his weapon, rather than a pen. His perspective was different. As a soldier, he was surrounded by red tape, with a pen held over his head that could write out the end of his career and possibly the end of his life at a moment's notice. A pen could only save lives as long as it had a gun to command. Reaper did his part by controlling that gun for as long as his oath would be upheld.

"It's a family room," Reaper said as he hit the button on the wall. "It should accommodate you well."

The door revealed an open floor plan apartment, complete with two bedrooms, a full kitchen, bathroom, dining room, and living room. The furniture was nothing grand, this was a low ranking military ship after all, but it was better than most would have the luxury of using. The colors were barren, whites, chromes, and soft grays. Greenery from plants were spotted throughout, along with paintings depicting old landscapes from Earth. For any homesick human, it was a perfect spot to stay the night, giving the idea of what home used to be. The room even had a view of the light speckled blanket of space.

“It is plain, but it will do wonders.” Fauriei said. The bird on her shoulder stood its crown of feathers up and bobbed its head up and down.

“Your bird seems to enjoy it.” Reaper allowed her in first. “Tell me, how did you get a hold of an earth bird?”

“Snow was a gift from Andrej Yanoveyvich. The first was killed by a man believing his gun was better suited than his words of anger.”

“He went for your bird?”

“No. He was after us.”

His brow rose. Then he nodded and smiled.

“Would the Syndicate be kind to drop us off at Fort Hope?” Fauriei asked.

“We could make it there in a few days.” Reaper crossed his arms over his chest. “Could you tell me what happened with the Utopia?”

“As we said before, we were headed to B-58 for Fenris. We were nearly there when the Utopia struck something.”

“That’s it?” Reaper’s lips pursed. “If I had more information, miss, I could