Incineration (The Incubation Trilogy Book 2) by Laura Disilverio Page B

“Reh-deen?” She swipes bangs off her forehead. “Most folks call me Red.”
    Her voice is rich and mellow, and heavy lids over pale green eyes add to the languorous effect. She moves sharply, though, her movements concise. Full breasts and hips swell her short jacket and leggings. I guess she’s twenty.
    “Glad we finally caught up with you.”
    “Me, too.”
    Wyck explains that they were supposed to intercept us earlier, but that we took a different route than anticipated. “It was a risk, attacking right in front of the RESCO like that, but we had surprise on our side.”
    “Who’s ‘we?’” I ask.
    “The Defiance.” Rhedyn says it like it should be obvious.
    “How did you know they were bringing me here—to the RESCO, I mean?”
    “Intelligence.” Rhedyn shuts her lips over the single word.
    “Vestor?” I recall what he told me as I got into the prison transport. Maybe he hadn’t betrayed me after all by condemning me to the RESCO. Maybe he’d known all along that I would be rescued.
    Rhedyn gives me a close-lipped smile and leans over to say something to the driver who she calls Luz.
    Wyck reaches across the space between us and takes my hand. His is warm, callused, and infinitely comforting. I hold on like I’ll never let go.
    “Your face—” he says, reaching one finger to gently touch my split lip.
    “The soldier I was convicted of killing was the guard’s buddy.” I shrug away his concern. “They told me you were dead. How did you end up with—?”
    The ACV speeds along, bucking occasionally when it skims over rough terrain, as he starts his story. He fiddles with my handcuffs as he talks. “When the IPF attacked Bulrush, I tried to get to you, but I couldn’t find you. I had to trust you’d be okay. I spotted Idris with Alexander, and just as I saw them, a beamer blast caught Alexander in the shoulder. It took both of us to get him into the tunnels. Ta-da.” He slips my cuffs off triumphantly.
    I rub my wrists. “So they’re alive, too?  Idris and Alexander?” Relief washes over me like pure water.
    Wyck nods. “Alexander was in a bad way, though, for a couple of months. We got separated from Idris in the tunnels when another wave of IPF came through that way, but Alexander was conscious enough to tell me how to get to one of the northern way stations. He even told me what to do for his shoulder. We didn’t have any sealant or anesthesia. These hands”—he wiggles his fingers—“were not meant for sewing. Alexander is one tough hombre.
    “Anyway, it took a couple weeks, because we had to travel slowly and at night, but we got to the station outside of Chattanooga and the station master took us in, got meds for Alexander—who had a raging infection by then—and kept us hidden. When Alexander was more himself, he told me to come back, to find out what had happened to the rest of you, to hook up with the Defiance, if I could find them. He gave me a few ideas of where to look, plus a password he said would keep me from getting killed.  It was a close-run thing, though, wasn’t it, Red?”
    The woman turns around and meets his grin with a grim smile. “You were never closer to death, Wyck. You stood there, hands in the air, chirping, ‘Arabesque, arabesque, arabesque’ like it was some kind of damned magical incantation. You were just too cute to kill.”
    Wyck shifts uncomfortably.
    “Then what?” I ask.
    “Idris was already there. Apparently, he’d been working with the Defiance for at least a year before the attack.”
    That doesn’t surprise me too much. He’d been urging Alexander to align with the Defiance, undertake insurgent missions, the whole time we were with Bulrush.
    With a wry twist of his lips, Wyck adds, “He’s actually a pretty damn effective rebel leader. He planned this rescue.”
    “It was Idris's idea?” I wouldn’t have thought he’d walk a block out of his way to save me.
    Wyck shakes his head. “No, the order came down from higher