Chapter Eight—Heart Rate

Running through the hills, John eventually reached a thick forest—the one they had seen on the Corvo’s sensors.

The shuttle hadn’t been searching for him for some time, which meant they thought they had killed him.

Most likely.

They did circle about the wreckage a few times, but he hadn’t stuck around to find out if they sent their guys in to investigate the wreckage for signs of bodies. If they were lazy, he would be safe, if not…

He was no soldier—not in the traditional sense, but he was intelligent enough to know that he should treat the situation as if they had been thorough.

I need to assume they know I’m still alive.

Hoping that Kyle was making his way toward May’s shuttle, John weaved between the heavy roots of these trees. He was surprised by the vast overhang of their boughs, which provided a thick landscape of green cover above.

The ground was hard to see because so little light was getting through. But here and there bright patches lit the forest floor as beams shot though the canopy illuminating the dust.

Why this forest hadn’t been cut down by some greedy corp pretending to be an World First supporter, John didn’t know.

“Your heart rate is accelerated, John.”

“How… how do you know… that?”

“It’s your wristlet,” she said, her cheerful voice coming through to him from there. “The bottom has micro sensors that can detect your pulse.”

“Wow…” he breathed, then jumped over a root. “I didn’t… I didn’t know that!”

“Maybe its best that Kyle isn’t here,” she said. “I think he would give you a lot of trouble over your ignorance on the issue.”

John couldn’t help but snort with amusement. “Even after finding out… that the car is gone?”

“Especially after that,” Lexa said.

“You’re… right.”

His throat was burning like he had downed hot coals.

Something chirped ahead, followed by the sound of a radio. John slid to a stop and ducked down. “Did you”—he swallowed—“hear that?” he asked.

“I did,” Lexa whispered. “Scanning now.”

John’s wristlet whirred, then beeped quietly. A holo-display popped up revealing a wireframe outline of a telemetry scan in bright yellow.

From what John saw, there were at least six men in the trees patrolling forward, heading in the same direction of May’s last known coordinates.

Damn, he thought. This is really bad.

“What do we do?”

Still breathing heavily, John almost didn’t say anything so he could catch his breath somewhat. A cramp had formed under the left side of his ribs, but he had ignored it—and would continue to do so.

I really need to start running regularly.

Able to bench press three-hundred-and-fifty pounds, he did that more to build up form than stamina. Maybe that was a mistake.

“I need to warn May.”

“Yes.”

He got up and circled back, cutting a wide semi-circle to stay out of range of that six-man squad’s scanner. Because he was running, he thought he would be able to reach May’s position before they did.

These guys were not charging in recklessly.

But why the caution?

Shaking his head, John decided that right now it didn’t matter. The only thing he should concentrate on is running—running and beating these Strogaus guys to May’s position, and hopefully Kyle would be there by the time he arrived.