Truehearts & The Escape From Pirate Moon by Jake Macklem (ebook audio reader TXT) 📕

“Not anymore. Discharged going on four years now. You really a STAR?” Strategic and Tactical Aerospace Rangers were elite soldiers. “You don’t look like much to me.”

Her eyes focused on Cam… “Are you a pirate?”

Never been called a pirate before. “No ma’am, I have all my appendages and have no bias to the letter R.”

Ace smiled. “You’re funny.”

“Well, thank—” Cam suddenly stepped back, catching his falling gun with one hand and grabbing at his throat with the other, eyes wide, his cry of pain choked off by the sudden loss of air. What the hell!

Ace, within arm’s reach, turned and sprinted away, putting twenty meters between them before Cam could move.

She punched me in the throat! She’s so fast. How does she move like that?... Bringing up his rifle he lined up his shot. Damn it! He ejected the magazine and unchambered the round, letting it fall to the ground. He slammed the tranq mag into place and slid the bolt to chamber a dart. Over thirty meters away, she dodged between trees. Cam forced himself to slowly breathe in through his nose, raised the rifle to his shoulder, and squeezed the trigger. The dart pierced a tree behind her as she flashed past. He coughed, clearing his throat, and took another shot, missing again.

Cam’s eyes narrowed. I don’t miss, Red. Ever. Looking through the scope he lined up his shot. If I miss, she’s over the ridge and I never see her again. He blinked the sweat out of his eye. This is not why I’m here. This could make me miss my pickup. He looked over the scope. I don’t know her. I don’t owe her anything. In a moment she’ll be gone. Ace raced up the ridge. Damn it. Cam lowered his gaze, lining his shot up in the scope, not where she was, but where she was going to be. He squeezed the trigger.

Ace fell to the ground, sliding to a stop. Cam rubbed his throat as he walked toward her. If she hit me much harder, she would have crushed my windpipe. A STAR. What should I expect? I’m lucky to be alive. Kneeling next to her, he checked her pulse. She’s alive. He set his rifle down and pulled out the scanner. Using the wand, he took a reading of the young woman. Oh, you poor girl.

Cam stood up. On the other side of the ridge was a collection of fallen trees, an opening at its base was half-covered with a sheet of metal from the crashed ship. Another sheet lay on the ground. He looked down at Ace. You’ve been here a while.

Scooping Ace up in his arms, Cam stared at her face trying to avoid her nakedness. “If you ever meet Gwen, this never happened.” He carried her down to the hut below.

  10: Ace

The woman was on her back, a look of shock on her face. The man was on his side, his expression calm. Blood pooled under their bodies. The streetlight had burned out and the shadows crawling out of the alley reached toward the crimson stain.

Clutching her stuffed bunny, the little redheaded girl buried her face into the warmth of the toy, looking between its fuzzy ears at the couple, then up at the man holding the gun. A shadow covered most of his face, but his eyes burned beneath the brim of his cap. “They didn’t pay me enough to reload,” he said.

Howling laughter erupted behind him from two more men. “That’s cold, man.” One of them stepped forward. “Let’s go get a drink.” Together the three walked away, still laughing.

The little girl looked back at the dead bodies.

I still don’t know who they are. Ace realized she was dreaming. She had this dream often.

The sharp click-clack of heels echoed through the ally. Turning, she saw two women approaching, both stopping when they saw the carnage.

“Go get Mick,” Shonda barked at Glitter, who stood looking wide-eyed at the scene.

She never was real bright.

“Snap out of it, hussy, and go get Mick!” Shonda watched Glitter nod her understanding, turn, and wiggle down the alley as fast as her eight-inch high heels and form-fitted skirt would allow.

Looking back over the chaos, Shonda walked forward. Barely in her forties, she was like a fine wine, aged to perfection. Her black curls and ringlets fell along one side of her face and her smoky eye makeup was applied with practiced precision. Her piercing blue eyes fell on the little girl. “Get out of here kid.”

The girl, five or six years old, held her ground and tightened her grip on the stuffed bunny in her arms.

“Come on kid, scram. You shouldn’t be here.” Shonda knelt and picked up the woman’s purse, then started patting down the dead man. “You know these people? They your parents?”

The little girl stared at the woman, watching her every move.

What a piece of work. No wonder I never liked you.

Shonda looked at a piece of paper she found, then to the kid, then at the dead people in the ally. Her eyes widened and stared at Ace. “What the shank you still doing here kid!” Lifting her hand, she rushed toward her, Ace did not move. Shonda slapped her hard across the face. “Shank off!”

Ace’s face squished tight in rage as she turned, under her crinkled brow her green eyes were lit with fury. Shonda’s face went slack and she stepped back from the little girl.

“Aren’t you just the prettiest angel I ever saw.” Mick smiled as he knelt next to her.

He was the biggest man she had ever seen; his shoulders as wide as she was tall. His left arm was metal, reflecting the light and changing colors with the nearby flashing neon. She reached out and touched it.