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eimarraBodyguard of Lies is a serialized science-fiction novel updating once a week on Tuesdays. If you missed last week’s episode, Alone at Last, it can be found here. You can catch up on the entire serial on this page with a description of the story and links to all published episodes.
Bodyguard of Lies
Episode 45
Friendly Comfort
Sabra didn’t know how long she stood outside, staring at the burning building. Peds surrounded her, firefighters pushed the crowds back, vid cams swooped through the smoke and flames. The fire died down, people trickled away, and still she stood there.
He didn’t come out.
Eventually, she turned away. She had to go somewhere, do something. She’d think in the morning. She’d cry in the morning. Right now, she had to just move.
She didn’t pay any attention to where she walked. She recognized a building, went inside. Charly’s door was locked. Sabra hadn’t grabbed keys, clothes, anything. She knocked at the door.
Charly opened it, a few minutes later, belting a robe at her waist. “Sabra? It’s three in the morning. What’s going on? And why do you reek of smoke?”
“Fire will do that, I understand.” Sabra swayed, and she leaned her hand on the door jamb. “May I come in?”
Charly glanced over her shoulder. “Umm . . . I have company.”
“Oh.” Sabra blinked. She wouldn’t cry, not yet. “Right. I’ll go . . . find a motel. They take iris scans for payment, right?”
She turned, took a couple steps, and stumbled against the wall.
Charly followed her into the hallway. “Motel? Why not go home?”
A voice came from Charly’s flat. “You have to see this fire on the news.”
Charly’s arm slipped around Sabra, supporting her. “Come on. I guess we’re awake now.”
Sabra tried to step away from Charly, to walk on her own into the apartment, but a wave of dizziness took her. The vid displayed her flat, up in flames. The voiceover said, “This was the scene earlier tonight as this housing complex, known to be the home of gladiator champion Sabra, went up in flames. The cause of the fire is not yet known.”
“Oh, Sabra.” Charly eased her down onto the couch. “Are you okay?”
“Body’s okay, a little dizzy.” Sabra leaned her head against her palm, trying to stop the spinning. “But me? May never be okay again.”
Charly was silent for a moment, then the other voice spoke again. “Were you checked for smoke inhalation?”
She started to shake her head, but that made the dizziness worse. “No. Didn’t see anyone. Didn’t talk to anyone.” She looked up plaintively at Charly. “He’s gone.”
Charly frowned, but the other voice cut in. “Charly, if you’ve got a med kit, get it. I wish we were at my place; I could give her a whiff of oxygen. Sounds like she could use it.”
Charly walked out of the room; Sabra watched her go. It felt like she’d just lost a lifeline. Someone knelt next to her, placed their hands on her arm. She winced.
“Tender? No scorch marks, so I’ll assume that predates the fire.” The woman pushed up Sabra’s sleeve. “Nasty cut. You didn’t get that from Lipinski.”
It wasn’t a question, but Sabra answered anyway. “He never got near me with his knife. This was . . . someone else. At the farm. Should’ve known better.”
Charly came back with a kit and a glass of water. She shoved the water into Sabra’s hand. “Drink this.”
Sabra hadn’t realized how parched her throat was. She drained the glass and handed it back to Charly. “More, please. It might even help me think.”
Charly didn’t say anything, just took the glass and disappeared. Sabra looked at the other woman. She looked vaguely familiar, but Sabra was certain she’d never met her before.
The woman took some supplies from the kit and swabbed Sabra’s arm. The cut was already healing, and without the dirt there, it looked reasonably inconsequential. For her line of work, anyway. The woman met her eyes, nodded, and took a vial of pills from the kit. She shook out three and handed them to Sabra.
“What are these for?”
“Immune system boost, remove pain, the usual.” The woman smiled. “Haven’t you ever used a med kit yourself?”
“I try to make sure the other guy needs it, not me.”
“Me, too, but we’re not all blessed with being good from the start.” The woman wiped the dirt and soot from Sabra’s face. Her touch was gentle and sure. No wonder Charly had brought her home. “I’m Cinn. We were supposed to bout next week, until you took off for a month.”
Sabra closed her eyes. “It wasn’t my choice, but I’ll see it through.”
Next time she negotiated her contract, she’d make damned sure the arena didn’t have the option to farm her out. She wouldn’t do this ever again.
“Was the fire because of this freelance job you’re doing? Something to do with the corp?”
“I don’t know.” Sabra sobbed. “Maybe. I just — I don’t want to talk about it right now, okay?”
Charly perched next to her on the couch and tipped the water glass to Sabra’s lips. Her other arm eased around Sabra to support her. “It’s okay. You’re here, you’re safe. You don’t have to say nothing till you’re ready.”
Sabra swallowed. Ready? She didn’t think she’d ever be ready to talk about losing Mick, seeing the beams and dust and sheets of ceiling cascading on top of him, trapping him in flaming debris. She sobbed again and twisted into Charly’s arms, grateful they were on good terms once more.
Charly rocked her until her tears subsided. Sabra still didn’t want to say anything, so she stayed, head down, clutching Charly as tight as she could. Charly stroked her back, so different from how she used to, how — she hiccupped another sob then pushed away.
“You going to be okay?” Cinn asked.
Sabra just shook her head. She looked at Charly. “I told you . . . about me and Mick?” She waited for Charly’s nod. “He was with me.”
“Where is he?” Cinn asked. “Is he okay?”
Sabra bit her lip. The words didn’t want to come out. She closed her eyes. “He didn’t make it out.”
“Oh, no.” Charly hugged her again.
A knock came at the door. Cinn said, “Your friends keep strange hours.” She moved to the door. “Can I help you?”
“It’s Johansen, city police.”
Click here to continue reading with Episode 46, Questions after Dark.
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Originally published at Erin M. Hartshorn. You can comment here or there.
