8. Chapter Eight

4days, 2 hours, 4 minutes EST remaining Predator Planet was throwing everything it had at them.

Ferns with thorny-toothed mouths? Got them.

Flying evil fanged lizards? They were here and ready to latch onto her face with those fangs.

Rats the size of their heads with bright red eyes? Yay.

Monsters must be traveling from the other side of the planet to attack them. No planet had this density of horrors. Hells, if they beat this damned planet, there might be no monsters left.

Shortly after they had emerged from the tree, their route changed to a landscape of craggy rock faces cut through with rivers, which they traversed quickly because even the water contained nasty, biting things. They didn't stop to catch them for a high-protein lunch. Hells no. She and Crey were equally as likely to feed their meal as the reverse.

Crey was respectful enough not to laugh when Mari shrieked after her foot slipped off a rock into the water. In her defense, a nasty creature immediately chomped onto her boot and had to be pried off using a dagger after they reached the shore. Well, Crey used a dagger. Mari used profanity on that damn, nasty asshole. Crey was more effective.

They took breaks beneath rock overhangs while listening for the Thalarin ship's return. These stops were becoming more frequent due to exertion.

Crey helped Mari scale the rock faces as best he could, but the climb was taxing on her arms—her arms that already hurt from killing things. She was now killing plants left-handed, not for the challenge, which was why Crey had been doing it all morning, but because her right arm shook from exhaustion.

Her arm shook from killing too many bastardy monsters, swiping at stupid bushes, and from fending off nasty trees.

That's how the day had gone.

The trees of Predator Planet threw their cones at them. Mari had been hit in the head with a damn cone thrown by a damn tree. And, for no reason. They weren't close to the damn tree or threatening it. Killing them with cones wouldn't allow the tree to eat them; it was too far away to absorb them via its carnivorous root system. No, the damn thing threw its own cones because it was a jerk.

This planet!

Mari was exhausted, and she was climbing yet another rock face. So exhausted. She'd never imagined a time where she'd be pissed, rather than excited, at discovering plant life so sentient that it was a nasty bastard just because. If Gaiians hadn't named those trees, Mari was thinking of a few very colorful names, damn their cone-throwing conifer souls.

"We should locate a place of shelter so that you may rest," Crey said from below her. He'd been eyeing her with concern for a while, but she didn't want to rest until they'd gone as far as they could. Crey's people needed them to hurry.

But, it was time; she was wiped out.

"Okay," she acquiesced. "But, only if you find a place where you can rest too. I don't want you staying up killing things while I rest."

His grunt sounded like assent. If it wasn't, she'd make it happen. Crey was resting—for damn certain.

Mari paused. A bright red moss covered a nearby rock. It was new…and furry. The patch of moss looked happy, fluffy, and vibrant. Here on Predator Planet that meant it wanted to kill her in twenty ways. This moss was probably red from absorbing the blood of its enemies. Bastard planet with its evil plant life.

Definitely avoid the moss, and she'd put on her gloves when she reached the top. She should have already been wearing them. Shame, Mari. Shaaaaaame.

Exhaustion dragged on her legs, and Mari didn't quite fit her boot in the crag she'd planned on. Her boot skimmed down the rock, instead of finding a toehold. Mari pitched forward, and her hands flew out to find purchase. In her haste, Mari scraped her palm on the very moss she'd planned to avoid.

"Hells." Damnation, that was bad. It was Xenobotany 101 not to touch any unknown plant life without gloves on, let alone touching something unknown with a, now, open wound.

"Is all well?" Crey asked from below.

"Yes. Mostly. Sort of. I'll need to apply a salve at the top of this rock, but it's fine. Watch out for the red moss." She finished climbing, carefully preventing the wound from coming into contact with anything else. Rising to stand on the top of the rock, Mari reached into her backpack's side pocket. She kept the antibiotic salve handy, and it should kill any bacteria the moss harbored. Hopefully, her body didn't have an immediate immune response, but, if she did, Mari would deal with it. This was fine. She had this handled.

While Mari was treating her scrape, Crey killed all the mean bitey creatures that immediately attacked them every time they arrived at the top of a climb. There were always so many.

Wiping the grit from around the wound, Mari examined the red scrape. It was shallow and only half the length of her palm, but that didn't mean anything, not when she'd introduced something from Predator Planet into the mix. Tearing open the antibiotic salve, Mari spread it across the scrape. The thick salve cooled the already-burning skin. Damnation, that moss's toxicity must be heinous for the scrape to burn like this. The red line was a thin strip of lava beneath her skin.

"Is the wound deep?" He wiped his blade on the hissing grass.

"No, it's a shallow scrape." No need to worry him. Moreover, she had the necessary supplies, either in her bag or the med kit Crey had brought. "I'll put a bandage on, and the gloves I should have been wearing." She hurriedly applied the bandage before Crey felt he had to examine the red, stinging scrape himself.

She was fine.

The salve was strong—stronger than anything Predator Planet could dole out in bacteria-harboring moss. Also, she'd addressed it quickly. There were systemic antibiotics in her pack, but they wouldn't be necessary.

This was fine.

Crey watched her closely. "There are no rocks to climb soon. We will rest before climbing another rock face."

Mari nodded as she drew on a glove. A niggling in the back of her mind shouted that things were not fine. Perhaps being around Crey helped her see every possible negative outcome, and Mari was planning accordingly. Or maybe she'd spent enough time on this planet to recognize it wanted her dead.

"I will kill anything we come across as we look for shelter which can be shielded," Crey said as they continued their hike.

Mari didn't fight him for the pleasure of battling monsters. They'd only been walking a few minutes when they were swarmed by tiny black flying creatures. Mari swatted at them. They were everywhere. Her hands passed through them. Ugh, why wasn't she making a difference?

"What is wrong?" Crey asked.

"I don't want to get bit." They were everywhere. Diving toward her. Pulsing. And pulsing. And getting bigger. The pulses coincided with her own pulse.

Pulse.

Pulse.

It was her pulse.

Crey said something.

Mari couldn't hear his words over the roar of her pulse. She should close her eyes while she walked so she wouldn't see the black spots. She would close her eyes and walk. That would be easier and less exhausting.

Mari's skin flashed hot and, then, ice cold.

Why was she walking with her eyes closed?

Mari opened them. The black spots dove at her. Everything spun around. Black spots in a whirlwind.

Crey caught her around the waist as she stumbled from the plaguing exhaustion and the dizziness. "Mari, what is wrong?"

Her brain couldn't form words. Thinking was like swimming through a mire of jumbled images. So tired. Thinking was too hard.

"Mari, tell me what is wrong."

Mari shook off her sudden lethargy. "The moss." She was blind from the black spots. "It must have contained a toxin." She fumbled for her saber.

Crey beat her to it and jabbed her neck with the neutralizer.

"Hey, you knew how?" Her voice was groggy.

"I memorized the directions. How frequently do I repeat the dosage?"

She couldn't see at all. Thinking was hard. Hells, this was bad. "Four hours." She could not stay awake. Hells. She might not awaken if she slept. "Crey," she grabbed his shoulders, "you have my permission to touch all of me. Every part of me." Her hands moved to his face. She needed to say it. If she didn't survive, he should know. "I love you. That fight for my heart—you won. We're mates. You won. I love you."

His voice sounded far away. "Are you saying this due to the toxin clouding your mind?"

"No." She finally said "I love you" for the first time in her life, and it was to someone who struggled to trust emotions, even without the toxic moss muddling things. "I'm saying I love you because it's true. It's a fact."

"Love cannot be a fact."

"Mine is." Her hands slipped from his face as her limbs grew too heavy to hold up.

Fact.

Fact.

Fact.

The word was on repeat in time with her pulse.

Crey began a litany of swearing in Gaiian as he picked her up and ran. Predator Planet swam in and out of focus as the neutralizer fought the moss's toxins.

Stay awake,Mari reminded herself each time the black beckoned. Stay awake. It was so hard. Breathing was impossibly difficult.

Mari couldn't die. Not when she'd found Crey. She couldn't do that to him.

The spots swirled and snatched at her thoughts.

What was she supposed to do again?

Breathe. Stay awake. Breathe.

Mari was swiftly, but gently, placed on the ground. Her backpack's incline gave her a good view as Crey battled three enormous creatures. How long had he been outrunning them?

These monsters were new. They were twice Crey's size and covered in matted, grimy fur. There were even patches of the red moss in that fur. They looked like sasquatches found on Old Earth. A dark thought whispered through her head—had they been drawn to the scent of her blood? Or, a darker thought—were they drawn to the scent of death?

Was she dying?

No.

Mari blinked furiously and watched Crey fight for their lives. It hurt to breathe. It hurt so much. She should help him. Mari commanded her arms to reach for her blaster. They disagreed. That was a bad sign.

Crey was a whirlwind of blades and blasterfire, always keeping himself between her and the monsters. The monsters moved fast, evading blasterfire.

One dead—a massive hole through its gut.

It was so hard to breathe.

Two dead—Crey had nearly split that monster in half.

Crey would keep the monsters at bay. Mari knew this. He'd proven this. Why was her chest caving in with fear as her throat thickened with anxiety?

Her mate roared at the last creature while pulling an explosive spur from his pocket. Tipping sideways, Crey launched a massive kick at the beast, knocking it a great distance, and threw the spur. The star-shaped weapon spun with a whirring fwwwwsssst through the air, ending in a wet thwack, striking the monster in the center of its six eyes.

Crey dove on top of her, just as its head exploded.

The pressure of his body drove the remaining air from her lungs. She had no strength nor desire to pull oxygen down her aching throat and reinflate her lungs when he got up. Too much work. The black blinded her again.

"Mari?"

Too much work.

"Mari!"

The dark beckoned with its cool promise of rest.

"Mari!" Crey's voice was frantic and dragged her from the darkness.

Crey, she thought, but couldn't say. Don't worry, it's fine. It's fine.

He shook her lightly, and her body flopped around. "Mari, breathe! No. No. Do not stop breathing."

Right. She'd stopped. Too much work. Everything hurt. Her chest was collapsed, even without Crey on top of her. Her throat was thick. The black spots blocked her vision.

"Why are you not breathing?"

He covered her mouth with his and plugged her nose, pushing his breath into her lungs. They inflated weakly. The air wheezed through her throat—rough—raspy—painful.

Crey swore in Gaiian. "What did it say about Earthens and breathing? I read about it. There is another medication." Crey swore. He searched the med pack. An injection pricked her neck. "That says it will help you breathe. Breathe, Mari. Breathe."

He breathed into her mouth, inflating her lungs.

Crey waited. His breathing was loud and anxious-sounding.

More of his breath entered her lungs.

"No, Mari! No, you must breathe."

Again, his breath pushed its way into her lungs.

Crey pleaded, "Mari, please, stay with me. Do not leave me. Mari, breathe. You need to breathe. Please, I will do anything. Please breathe."

He sounded far away. Was he abandoning her?

"Please," he said—from the other side of the clearing he'd fought in.

He was leaving her?

No, he was here. Crey breathed air into her lungs. Then, Crey's hand pressed against her chest. "This heart belongs to me. Keep it beating, my mate. For me. Keep breathing. For me."

For him.

Mari sucked in a deep breath.

"Good. Keep breathing." His voice reflected his desperation. "Keep breathing." This time, his tone was triumphant. "Keep breathing." He kissed her face, getting it wet, not with his lips. His face was wet.

Her next breath was harsh and raspy. Too difficult. Hurt. Darkness beckoned again.

"Please, navi'ian—that means ‘my breath' in Gaiian. Breathe. For me. Be my breath. I need you to breathe, Mari. Please."

Mari pulled in a raspy breath. For him. Then, another. For him. Another. Him. It was easier now.

For Crey, breathe.

"Good. Good. Keep breathing. Stay with me. I need to run. Things are coming. Keep breathing." Crey picked Mari up and ran.

The world was covered in black spots and blurry whenever she opened her eyes, so she kept them closed much of the time.

"Keep breathing, navi'ian," he said, each time he stopped to kill more creatures. "Keep breathing."

She kept breathing. For Crey. For her mate.

"Okay," she whispered, the next time he implored her.

"You are speaking again. Good. Good." Were those tears in his eyes or her own? Her vision was blurry. "Keep speaking. Keep breathing, navi'ian."

"Tired," she said, when he returned from killing something else.

"You can rest as long as you keep breathing."

"Just my eyes. Then, I'll help. Where's my blaster?"

Crey huffed out an exasperated breath. "You stubborn Earthen. Keep breathing—that is your job." He picked her up and ran with her.

Shortly after that, he set her down.

What now? Mari opened her eyes. More monsters?

No. Crey threw several explosive spurs at a rock crag. The spurs hit the rock wall in between a plateau and an overhang. Boom! Boom! Boom! The sound echoed around the cave-like hole. The explosion showered the surrounding area with pebbles and other debris.

"What are you doing?" she mumbled from where she rested on her backpack.

"Getting rid of anything alive in there," her mate said grimly. He cast her a glance. "You will be well, bayantar. Death will not claim you when I have not, and not until we have had Earthen centuries together."

"Mm." That was nice. She waved off another black swarm with a weak hand.

Crey carried her in his arms into the enclosed and still-smoking rock crevice. He set her reclined against a protruding rock and quickly drew out several perimeter shield devices.

"No burrowing monsters," Mari whispered when Crey returned to her side after setting up the shield.

"No burrowing monsters," he agreed. "Hold on, bayantar, and I will take care of you." Digging through his pack, he yanked out his clothing, spread it across the stone floor, and laid the parachute overtop them. Crey returned and slipped her arms from the pack's straps. After carrying her to the makeshift mattress, he laid her down gently. "I apologize that we cannot make a hammock for you."

"This is good." Her speech was so slurred. "We need sleep." He could rest beside her.

"You will sleep, sweet one. I will defeat all that threatens to take you, including death. Do not fear, Mari. You are safe."

"Mm."

He cradled her face in his callused hands. "Do you trust me, my cherished mate?"

"Mm-hm."

As she closed her eyes, she dimly felt his lips against her forehead, her cheeks, and, finally, her mouth.

"Love you," she managed.

"I love you as well."