“Last chance,” he told her, and waited a beat. Then another. He had just turned on his heel to resume his march when the howls sprang up. Not close, well beyond the borders of the housing bloc’s grove. But not so far away that a loping run wouldn’t see them breaking through the trees in less than a stretch’s turnover.
“Insellegath’s teeth,” he muttered, and stalked back to the girl, taking one of her hands in his own. At the contact, she blinked, only reluctantly lowering her gaze from the crystalline dome.
“Come on,” he said, having to tug at her hand to get the girl to move. The sergeant spat another curse. “How in the seven Hells did you get out here without any shoes?”
In answer, the girl only looked down at her bare feet, and then back at the sergeant.
“Never mind,” he said. “No, shoes, only a … is that a medical gown?”
Another chorus of howls rose and fell, answered by another, from the south.
“Questions later.” He slung his longarm, and swept the girl off her feet. She gave a surprised squawk — the first sound to pass her pale lips.
“Apologies will have to wait, girl. We need to move. Doc! Closest shopping arcade!”
“I hardly think anyplace will be open at a time like this,” the dark-haired professor stammered.
“I think Sarge means we’ll be the ones opening it,” the corporal said with a grin.
“If you have the wind to chuckle, you can carry her,” the sergeant growled. “She’s heavier than she looks!”
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