Cyborg Nation by Kaitlyn O'Connor (english readers TXT) 📗

turned to look through the viewing window near her seat, but looking out the window didn’t help at all. Her panic rose as the craft did, threatening to engulf her. She could hear fragments of conversation around her as the men who’d found them questioned Gideon and the others about the crash. The noise of the ship itself, however, combined with the roaring of blood in her ears and her rasping breaths to chop bits and pieces from the dialogue and that made it impossible to follow what they were saying even if she could’ve focused enough of her mind on the conversation for the task.

Once it reached the goal altitude, the ship skimmed the air so fast the world outside the window blurred sickeningly. She closed her eyes against the dizzying sight, struggling against nausea as well as fear then. She began to cramp after a while from the rigid tension that held her entire body.

It wouldn’t take long, she told herself. No matter how far they still were from civilization, it couldn’t possibly take very long when they were traveling at such a speed and directly toward their destination rather than having to follow the winding course nature allowed them to follow. Soon, she could be really clean again, sleep in a bed instead of on the sand, shivering half the time even with a man on either side of her to help to keep her warm.

She would have access to medical equipment even if there were no doctors to help her—she knew if they had a city, they would have to have some sort of medical facilities.

Those thoughts eased her stress over the flight more than thoughts of creature comforts had. Soon, whatever it was that was wrong with her, she’d know, and not knowing was more scary than knowing would be, she assured herself. Even if knowing still meant she couldn’t do anything about it, she thought it was the suspense and the unknown that was most frightening.

It was night by the time they arrived. That wasn’t surprising since they’d already stopped to make camp for the day and prepare a meal as they usually did before dark because once they’d begun to have to supplement their food by hunting, they’d also had to have fire to cook it, and Gideon didn’t allow fires after darkness fell. It had been dark, though, for several hours by the time she saw the lights of the city.

Four hours, maybe, flying? It could’ve been as little as two, she supposed, because she was a nervous wreck and not in any condition to judge, but even if it hadn’t been but two, that meant they’d still been probably a thousand miles from civilization, weeks more of walking if they hadn’t been picked up.

It must have been a military patrol, she decided. She hadn’t heard them say, but it didn’t seem likely they’d been out looking for them.

Then again, they might have. They could’ve found the crash site and have been looking for them since. If they’d found anything to indicate there were survivors and decided to look, Gideon, Jerico, and Gabriel had left a trail of trog bodies behind them as evidence of their passing. It couldn’t have been too hard to track them.

She was so weak with relief when the ship finally landed she didn’t think she could’ve walked if she’d had to. To her dismay, however, it wasn’t any of her men who helped her from the craft. Instead, one of the soldiers scooped her up and leapt from the craft, catching her so by surprise she only had time to look around for Gideon and the others, to catch a fleeting glimpse of them and then the door closed and the craft rose again.

“What’s happening? What’s going on?”

“You are in need of medical attention. I am taking you to the med center.”

Bronte peered at the man in the dim artificial light. She couldn’t tell much about him beyond the fact that his profile was lean and uncompromising. Cyborg, she thought, feeling her stomach tighten into a little harder knot. “But … what about the others? My companions, Gideon and Jerico and Gabriel?”

“They will be debriefed.”

Bronte stared at him uncomprehendingly. “Debriefed?”

He didn’t volunteer anything at the questioning lilt to the word, didn’t even glance at her.

“What does that mean?” she tried again.

“Questioned.”

“About what?”

“The crash.”

“Oh.” Anger displaced some of Bronte’s uneasiness. “They’re not even going to let them rest first?”

He looked directly at her for the first time and Bronte’s stomach executed a little flip flop, partly from surprise, but mostly because he far more handsome than she’d expected. Were any of the cyborgs not handsome, she wondered?

She must have been brain dead when they’d put her on the ship not to have noticed him before.

But then, she hadn’t really looked at any of the men. Jerico’s display of jealousy had been enough by itself to discourage her from looking with any interest, but she’d known if Jerico felt that way then Gideon and Gabriel certainly would be and she hadn’t wanted to arouse their sense of possessiveness. And, once she’d gotten on board, she hadn’t been able to focus on anything but her fear of flying.

“They are soldiers. They know what to expect.”

She wished she did. Beyond what he’d told about the med center, she had no idea what to expect. Her companions hadn’t enlightened her, but she hadn’t particularly worried about it because she hadn’t expected to be separated from them.

Realizing she wasn’t likely to get anything from him that was going to ease her mind, she allowed her curiosity to divert her and looked around. It was too dark to tell much about the city. There was some artificial lighting along the streets, but only a sprinkle here and there that illuminated small patches of building and street, signs mostly and there weren’t very many of those. In some ways, it looked very little different from any other city she’d ever seen—except the notable dearth of