Aftermath Read Online Free Page A

says.
    Mary, how it hurts to hear his voice, even blurred with electronic interference. It makes me feel as if he’s one of my ghosts, and I can’t give in to grief before I find the answers. Hit plays the log until she successfully extrapolates the comm code, a matter of some urgency, as there’s no telling how much longer this wreck will have sufficient power to send—or receive—messages. Hit cues me with the go-ahead, and I angle my head as best I can toward the comm array. The video’s not working, but as long as we have audio, it should suffice.
    “Hit and I have returned to Venice Minor. We encountered no survivors. Our ship’s disabled, but we don’t see the Dauntless amid the wreckage so we hope you survived the initial bombing. If you’re still in direct comm range, we implore you not to jump as your navigator won’t be able to interpret the signals. At best, you’ll wind up far from your intended destination. At worst, you’ll be lost for good. Until we hear back, we’ll be waiting on the surface, so please advise with intel and our new orders.”
    Unless they court-martial us for going AWOL. But it isn’t time for disciplinary action; we’re in the middle of a war, for Mary’s sake. Once the dust settles, then I’ll take my punishment, but I’m not letting them touch Hit. I’ll lie if I must.
    After a nod from her indicating she has nothing to add, I say, “Send.”
    A ping from the comm indicates it’s resolved the link, which indicates they’re up there, somewhere. Who’s on the Dauntless , we cannot know. Then from the damaged console comes an alarming beep, accelerating in speed. Even I know what that means. Frantic, I scramble out of the cockpit, cutting my palms on metal shards as I pull myself out. Hit grabs my hand and we sprint full out away from the skiff.
    “Jax!”
    At first, I think I’m imagining the call, but I look over my shoulder and spot Doc crossing the hangar yard, Evelyn not far behind him. No. No, no, no, no. Looking backward, I stumble, and Hit pulls me on, not looking back. She didn’t hear. Better if I hadn’t, then I wouldn’t know the collateral damage.
    “Run!” I scream, but it’s too late. “Saul, run !”
    They’re almost to the skiff now. Doc glances up, then takes Evelyn’s hand. Even from this distance, I can see his resolve. Tears stream down my face; I suspect I’m to blame. The light expands, swallowing the ground, leaving me with a picture of their last moments in my mind’s eye. We reach the outer edges of the burning trees as the explosion rocks the hangar yard. I don’t see them die, but I feel it in my bones. Even at this distance, the impact sends us flying head over ass toward the fires deeper in the jungle. I land in the shallows of the river that feeds my mother’s water stores and lie there for a moment, my blood washing out into the current. I flex my fingers in the water, stunned, and watching the ribbons of red trail away. An orphaned quote stirs in my mind— wars, terrible wars, and the Tiber foaming with so much blood . I can’t remember where I read it or who wrote it first, but it seems apropos.
    “The Morgut caught our signal this time,” Hit guesses, pushing upright.
    “Doc and Evie were back there. I think our message drew them out of hiding.” There’s no way to be sure, of course, but nothing else makes sense. Afterward, I wish I hadn’t said anything.
    Pain and grief dawns in her dark eyes; I can tell she gets it. Our survival came at the cost of theirs, and they possessed brilliant, inimitable scientific minds. I consider now the cost to future progress, and the promise I made to Loras going unfulfilled. I shake my head, but I can’t change this. I can only bear the scars, as I have always done, as I ever do.
    Doc saved my life so many times over the turns. He comforted me, and he gave me the strength to go on when I faltered. In some ways, he was like a friend and father combined. And the loss of his calm