Read Online Chenda and the Airship Brofman by Emilie P. Bush - Free Book Online
Authors: Emilie P. Bush
Ads: Link
unbuckled the flight coat and eased the younger woman's shoulders free. She held Chenda's head as gently as a mother would hold a newborn, and eased her back onto the cushions. As Candice threw the flight coat over her book laden coffee table, she gasped at the dark scorch marks and bloodstains.
“Man alive! What happened to you?”
Through her rears, Chenda recounted the events of the evening. Candice moved her hands over Chenda's body, checking for broken bones and assessing her various other injuries. Listening intently, the professor did her best to disinfect the knife wound over Chenda's ribs and tape it closed. As Chenda recited Daniel's confession and the start of the fire, Candice did her best to gently clean the sand and cinders from Chenda's hands and wrap them in bandages. She wiped the blood from Chenda's mouth and neck as the girl spoke of pulling the knife from her own side and plunging it into the neck of her attacker.
When she finished her story, Chenda leaned her head back against couch. The professor laid a cool, damp cloth over the bruised and swollen side of the young woman's face.
“Wow.” Candice said weakly. “I mean...wow.”
“I killed him,” Chenda whispered. “I killed Daniel.”
“No, honey.” Candice stroked the side of Chenda's face that wasn't bloodied and swelling. “He died trying to kill you. An important distinction, I must say.”
Chenda gave a disbelieving shrug, then winced. “I hurt all over.”
“You need some rest,” she said. With gentle hands, Candice helped Chenda to her feet and guided her into the bedroom. She pulled off Chenda's boots and covered the young woman with a blanket. Candice turned to tip-toe out as Chenda's eyes started to close.
“This doesn't change anything. We're still going.” Chenda mumbled.
“I know,” Candice replied, leaning against the bedroom doorframe. “We sure as hell can't stay here.”
Chapter 5
THE DEAD WALK AWAY
It took all of one minute for Chenda to fall into a deep sleep. Candice watched her for a few moments more then headed into the living room to have a good think.
Candice long believed that occupying one's hands with menial tasks freed one's brain to pursue practical thoughts. As she sorted through the facts from Chenda's story, she set about putting her living room back together. She stacked the pillows and cushions back on the couch, then she pulled a trash can over to discard the bits of bloody bandage and tape. The smell of smoke that stuck to Chenda's hair and clothes lingered in the air. Candice picked up the flight coat from the coffee table and examined it, running her hand along the scorch marks on the back, and around the bloodstain inside, just under the left armpit. Chenda's blood.
“Someone up there must really be looking out for you, kid, because this could have been so much worse,” Candice said to herself as waggled a finger through the knife hole. “We are in so much trouble.”
Candice added up the facts – the poison in her office, the attack on Chenda, Edison's murder and the fact that every known holder of a Tugrulian pedradurite in the West was dead – and decided that staying in Coal City, or any part of Kite's Republic for that matter, was cold stupid. Both she and Chenda seemed targeted. It wasn't great, but their only choice was to flee from a rock to a hard place. Perhaps the only way out of this mess, for both of them, was through.
Candice sat on the threadbare couch for several minutes, fuming at Edison. It felt strange to accuse Edison of being both right and wrong to keep such vital information from his young wife. On the one hand, Edison fulfilled his role as a husband, shielding Chenda and protecting her for as long as possible. But, on the other hand, he had in no way prepared her to go forward. Why not equip her with the knowledge that she would need? It was blind luck that the girl hadn't died already.
Candice glanced at the clock. In a few
“Man alive! What happened to you?”
Through her rears, Chenda recounted the events of the evening. Candice moved her hands over Chenda's body, checking for broken bones and assessing her various other injuries. Listening intently, the professor did her best to disinfect the knife wound over Chenda's ribs and tape it closed. As Chenda recited Daniel's confession and the start of the fire, Candice did her best to gently clean the sand and cinders from Chenda's hands and wrap them in bandages. She wiped the blood from Chenda's mouth and neck as the girl spoke of pulling the knife from her own side and plunging it into the neck of her attacker.
When she finished her story, Chenda leaned her head back against couch. The professor laid a cool, damp cloth over the bruised and swollen side of the young woman's face.
“Wow.” Candice said weakly. “I mean...wow.”
“I killed him,” Chenda whispered. “I killed Daniel.”
“No, honey.” Candice stroked the side of Chenda's face that wasn't bloodied and swelling. “He died trying to kill you. An important distinction, I must say.”
Chenda gave a disbelieving shrug, then winced. “I hurt all over.”
“You need some rest,” she said. With gentle hands, Candice helped Chenda to her feet and guided her into the bedroom. She pulled off Chenda's boots and covered the young woman with a blanket. Candice turned to tip-toe out as Chenda's eyes started to close.
“This doesn't change anything. We're still going.” Chenda mumbled.
“I know,” Candice replied, leaning against the bedroom doorframe. “We sure as hell can't stay here.”
Chapter 5
THE DEAD WALK AWAY
It took all of one minute for Chenda to fall into a deep sleep. Candice watched her for a few moments more then headed into the living room to have a good think.
Candice long believed that occupying one's hands with menial tasks freed one's brain to pursue practical thoughts. As she sorted through the facts from Chenda's story, she set about putting her living room back together. She stacked the pillows and cushions back on the couch, then she pulled a trash can over to discard the bits of bloody bandage and tape. The smell of smoke that stuck to Chenda's hair and clothes lingered in the air. Candice picked up the flight coat from the coffee table and examined it, running her hand along the scorch marks on the back, and around the bloodstain inside, just under the left armpit. Chenda's blood.
“Someone up there must really be looking out for you, kid, because this could have been so much worse,” Candice said to herself as waggled a finger through the knife hole. “We are in so much trouble.”
Candice added up the facts – the poison in her office, the attack on Chenda, Edison's murder and the fact that every known holder of a Tugrulian pedradurite in the West was dead – and decided that staying in Coal City, or any part of Kite's Republic for that matter, was cold stupid. Both she and Chenda seemed targeted. It wasn't great, but their only choice was to flee from a rock to a hard place. Perhaps the only way out of this mess, for both of them, was through.
Candice sat on the threadbare couch for several minutes, fuming at Edison. It felt strange to accuse Edison of being both right and wrong to keep such vital information from his young wife. On the one hand, Edison fulfilled his role as a husband, shielding Chenda and protecting her for as long as possible. But, on the other hand, he had in no way prepared her to go forward. Why not equip her with the knowledge that she would need? It was blind luck that the girl hadn't died already.
Candice glanced at the clock. In a few
Similar Books
