Station Coroner by Heather Lee Dyer

Author:Heather Lee Dyer [Dyer, Heather Lee]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781732280038
Publisher: Amethyst Rush Press, LLC
Published: 2018-08-11T22:00:00+00:00

17

Back to School

Back in my room, I tuck my pack underneath my bed and take out my tablet to check what classes I have tomorrow. I groan. I have several classes with Derek in the morning. I have no idea how he's going to act toward me. Will he be the warm, open Derek that helped me in the pods and I spent the night on the couch with? Or the jerk Derek who calls me muerta? Or the awkward Derek who was distant the last time we talked? I'm so confused right now about him.

I really thought I'd be all right here on Delta without friends. I have my dad and our apprentices, and I keep busy with school and work around the morgue. I don't have time to socialize.

But it was really nice having someone my own age to talk with. It felt good for that short period of time to have someone interested in me. I didn't date much in the colony because most of the boys were either intimidated by my height — or my job.

I flop into the bed and pull the covers up. What is wrong with me? I have refrigerators full of deceased who suffered horribly to avoid an even greater danger than death. And here I am worrying about how Derek is going to treat me at school. I pound my pillow and try to empty my mind of him by recalling the details of what I saw in those pods. Not the bodies. I concentrate on the whole area. Every room also tells a story, and pod 4 and pod 5 need to tell me their secrets. I toss and turn before I finally fall into a fitful sleep.

I'm awake before my alarm goes off. My mind is mush, and I'm not looking forward to this day. I carefully get dressed, not sure why I even bother to make sure my hair and clothes are all in order. My usual everyday style is pants and whatever clean sweatshirt I can find. Most often, it's one of the Delta Station sweatshirts Dad sent me years before I moved here. They're quite faded now.

But today I wear one of the few civilian outfits I own. Dad took me shopping with him the first day I arrived. I had stepped off the transport ship with only mining clothes and the sweatshirts he had sent me.

I tame my curls so they frame my face rather than strangle it. I look in the mirror and make a face. "What are you doing, Bren?" I ask my reflection.

I sigh and gather my pack. I hesitate but then take out the data stick. I stare at it and think of what the captain went through to protect this information. He gambled the lives of his crew and a few rescued strangers in order to protect it.

If someone is looking for it, and now that I know Scott is somehow involved, the first place they'll look is on me, in my quarters or in the morgue.

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