Read Online Capturing Today (TimeShifters Book 2) by Jessica Keller, Jess Evander - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jessica Keller, Jess Evander
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faster. Michael catches my eye and raises an eyebrow, but I can’t fill him in about the Shades in front of the injured but lucid man. Later.
How am I supposed to feel about the Shades now? Is Erik really the enemy? He did what he said he would. He followed through on a promise. He used his power to shift me to Michael. A guy set on evil wouldn’t have done that.
Yet the Shades creep me out. They’re out in force. Let’s think through this rationally. Okay, if the Shifters are correct that the Shades feed off human despair, then there must be a feast to be had in No Man’s Land. So that’s why they’re there. That’s all.
Breathe, Gabby.
But my stomach won’t leave the back of my throat.
They were looking at me. I know they were. Not all of them. But … enough. Beyond the despair that war brings, their presence here has to mean something terrible. I feel it. The last time I saw a Shade he grabbed a woman and sucked the life out of her. All of it.
I can still see her lifeless body falling to the ground.
When Michael and I finish helping this man, we’ll talk about it. Michael will have ideas. He probably knows down to the day what historically happened in each battle. Perhaps our side is going to experience a massive set-back today. That would explain the Shades.
Which means they aren’t following us.
I square my shoulders.
We’re almost back to the infirmary when Michael starts coughing. Not polite little sneezes. The coughs wrack his body. He stops walking, and most of the soldier’s weight slumps onto me. I can barely keep my feet under the man’s weight. Michael must have had him angled to lean mostly against him. It figures. The obstinate rat.
Michael sounds like he’s close to choking. Bracing his hands on his knees, he almost falls. I start to reach to steady him but can’t do it without letting go of the soldier.
“Are you okay?” Panic squeezes my voice out louder than natural. What a stupid thing to ask. Of course he’s not okay. Worry tends to do that though. Mush one’s brain.
He sets his jaw and slowly straightens back to his full height. “Just had to catch my breath.”
Or struggle not to cough out an entire lung.
He takes his place again, and we press on into the building. By the time we get the soldier onto a table and another doctor steps up to look him over, Michael is wheezing and his face has gone pale. There’s clearly more going on than him being winded.
I grab his arm. “We need to get you back to your tent.”
“I should stay.” But all the fight is gone from his words.
“No. We’re going.” I pull on his arm. Gently. I swear. But it’s enough force to send him off balance. It happens fast, but his knees buckle. I brace myself, hook my wrists under his armpits, and do my best to catch him. His chest thuds against mine, and air whooshes from his lungs onto my shoulder.
And the coughing starts again. Shredding my heart into a thousand, tiny I’m sorrys .
My arms go around him. Tight. Pressing him to me. We’re in plain sight of most of the men in cots, and I don’t care. Michael is hurting, and I don’t care what they think of me. Or us. Or what is proper for this time period.
When he catches his breath again, I turn him, wrap my arm around his waist, and walk us back outside. Michael follows my lead without question. Which scares me more than anything. Each step appears to be more difficult for him, as if he’s trudging through solidifying concrete. By the time we reach his tent, Michael’s gasping for air, and his whole body is trembling.
Mine too.
What’s wrong with him? My mind races through possibilities. Was he shot, and we didn’t realize it? Was the food last night poisoned? Pure exhaustion?
He drops onto the cot. His head droops.
My eyes burn with tears of frustration. Not with Michael. With myself. I don’t know what to do. How to help. I’m useless to him. Why didn’t I realize something was wrong
How am I supposed to feel about the Shades now? Is Erik really the enemy? He did what he said he would. He followed through on a promise. He used his power to shift me to Michael. A guy set on evil wouldn’t have done that.
Yet the Shades creep me out. They’re out in force. Let’s think through this rationally. Okay, if the Shifters are correct that the Shades feed off human despair, then there must be a feast to be had in No Man’s Land. So that’s why they’re there. That’s all.
Breathe, Gabby.
But my stomach won’t leave the back of my throat.
They were looking at me. I know they were. Not all of them. But … enough. Beyond the despair that war brings, their presence here has to mean something terrible. I feel it. The last time I saw a Shade he grabbed a woman and sucked the life out of her. All of it.
I can still see her lifeless body falling to the ground.
When Michael and I finish helping this man, we’ll talk about it. Michael will have ideas. He probably knows down to the day what historically happened in each battle. Perhaps our side is going to experience a massive set-back today. That would explain the Shades.
Which means they aren’t following us.
I square my shoulders.
We’re almost back to the infirmary when Michael starts coughing. Not polite little sneezes. The coughs wrack his body. He stops walking, and most of the soldier’s weight slumps onto me. I can barely keep my feet under the man’s weight. Michael must have had him angled to lean mostly against him. It figures. The obstinate rat.
Michael sounds like he’s close to choking. Bracing his hands on his knees, he almost falls. I start to reach to steady him but can’t do it without letting go of the soldier.
“Are you okay?” Panic squeezes my voice out louder than natural. What a stupid thing to ask. Of course he’s not okay. Worry tends to do that though. Mush one’s brain.
He sets his jaw and slowly straightens back to his full height. “Just had to catch my breath.”
Or struggle not to cough out an entire lung.
He takes his place again, and we press on into the building. By the time we get the soldier onto a table and another doctor steps up to look him over, Michael is wheezing and his face has gone pale. There’s clearly more going on than him being winded.
I grab his arm. “We need to get you back to your tent.”
“I should stay.” But all the fight is gone from his words.
“No. We’re going.” I pull on his arm. Gently. I swear. But it’s enough force to send him off balance. It happens fast, but his knees buckle. I brace myself, hook my wrists under his armpits, and do my best to catch him. His chest thuds against mine, and air whooshes from his lungs onto my shoulder.
And the coughing starts again. Shredding my heart into a thousand, tiny I’m sorrys .
My arms go around him. Tight. Pressing him to me. We’re in plain sight of most of the men in cots, and I don’t care. Michael is hurting, and I don’t care what they think of me. Or us. Or what is proper for this time period.
When he catches his breath again, I turn him, wrap my arm around his waist, and walk us back outside. Michael follows my lead without question. Which scares me more than anything. Each step appears to be more difficult for him, as if he’s trudging through solidifying concrete. By the time we reach his tent, Michael’s gasping for air, and his whole body is trembling.
Mine too.
What’s wrong with him? My mind races through possibilities. Was he shot, and we didn’t realize it? Was the food last night poisoned? Pure exhaustion?
He drops onto the cot. His head droops.
My eyes burn with tears of frustration. Not with Michael. With myself. I don’t know what to do. How to help. I’m useless to him. Why didn’t I realize something was wrong
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