Too Close to the Sun (The Sun 1) by Popp Robin T

Author:Popp, Robin T. [Popp, Robin T.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General Fiction
Published: 2013-02-19T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

When they reached open space, Angel turned to check on Nicoli.

“Oh no.” She set the autopilot and rushed to his slumped form. Pressing her fingers to his neck, she felt for a pulse. It was there, but it was weak.

“Yanur!” Where had he disappeared to? He knew Nicoli was hurt.

“Come on Nic, hang on.” She ripped off one of her sleeves and held the wadded cloth against the wound in his side, which still oozed blood. She let the fingers of her free hand gently brush the side of his cheek. “Hang on, baby. You’ll be okay.”

His eyes fluttered open. “Where...?”

“Safe. Out in open space.”

“Hurt...you?”

“No. I’m fine.”

He tried to smile, but the effort seemed too great. “Good.” His eyes closed as his head fell forward.

“Nicoli!” She shouted, shaking him, afraid he’d died.

His eyes fluttered as he struggled to once again lift his head. His words were little more than a breath and Angel dropped her head close to his mouth to hear what he said. “Okay...to die.”

Angel felt the impact of his words like a blow to the gut. He had given up, accepted death. With a sick feeling, she realized he seemed to welcome it.

Well, it wasn’t okay with her.

“Yanur!” She looked around for the older man as she shouted, but still saw no sign of him. Damn. “Don't you die on me, Nicoli Romanof. You and I aren’t finished. That blade was meant for me. You had no right stepping in front of it.” Her tone was harsh with fear.

“You’re... welcome.”

“I didn't ask you to die for me.” She wiped furiously at her face, trying to dry tears that refused to stop falling. “Don’t die on me, Nicoli. Do you hear me? Nicoli? Don’t you die.”

“I think the people in the next quadrant heard you.” Yanur hurried onto the bridge carrying his black bag.

“Where the hell have you been?”

Yanur ignored her as he dug into his bag and removed a small device. Angel recognized the triage unit as he ran it a couple of inches above Nicoli.

“How bad?” Her voice was almost a whisper.

“Bad enough.” Yanur put the triage unit back in his bag and pulled out a long cylindrical tube. He opened a compartment on one side, then reached into his pocket to remove several small greenish crystals. Angel recognized the raw tyrillium. “But I have no intention of letting him die if I can prevent it.” He popped the crystals into the tube, shut the lid and checked the gauge. Seemingly satisfied, he pressed a switch and the tube began to emit a low humming noise.

“Hold his shirt away for me,” Yanur instructed.

Angel looked at the blood-soaked shirt, matted against Nicoli’s side. Grabbing the front of it, she ripped it open, then gingerly peeled it back, exposing the wound.

Yanur held the tube centimeters above the raw edges of the wound, moving it slowly back and forth. Angel watched, amazed as the torn tissue started to knit itself together.

Nicoli’s breathing grew steadier, more peaceful. After a few moments, his eyes slowly opened.

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