Page 65 of The Red Woman on Mars

“I’ll stall him as long as I can,” Delilah murmured.

“I’ll come back for you,” Vivian vowed.

“Go.”

Vivian grabbed the medical bag from Delilah’s hand, pushed her sister to the floor, and took off running. Behind her, she could hear Delilah sobbing. “Oh Silas, my love, hold me. I thought my own sister was going to kill me.”

As she ran, Vivian shoved the gun into the medical bag. When she reached Xavier, she grabbed his arm, pulling him stumbling behind her.

The moped was parked right where Delilah had promised. She jumped on, and Xavier clumsily wrapped his large body around her. The moped came to life in the proximity of the fob. It was designed for a Martian build, and Vivian wasted precious seconds raising the pedals to their maximum height. She pressed the accelerator, and the moped sprang forward with a lurch. She crashed into a stack of crates next to a wall, sending them flying in the moped’s wake.

“Steady,” Xavier murmured in her ear. “Keep your foot light on the pedal. It only needs a touch.”

Shaking, she tried to obey. They sped closer to the populated area and a few pedestrians jumped out of their way.

“Will he let us go, do you think?” Vivian gasped. “Since he still has Delilah?”

“No,” Xavier said grimly. “At least … he won’t let me get away. Turn here,” he said at the next intersection. “Don’t follow a pattern.”

Vivian turned the wheel, and it screeched. The back tire hit a ladder propped against a wall, and it banged to the ground blocking the street. In the distance, she spotted the arching steel bars elevating the hanging track of the caterpillar train. “Should we …?”

“Yes. Ditch the moped.”

At the station, a vendor looked at their bizarre appearance in startlement. “Shirts,” Vivian demanded. “Do you sell shirts?”

With wide eyes, the vendor pointed to a small display of T-shirts. Vivian pulled the credit chit from Xavier’s front pocket and handed it to the vendor. She slipped the shirt over Xavier’s body, and he hissed through his teeth. With a steady hand on his arm, Vivian led him up the stairs. The train was just pulling up, suspended from the elevated rail. As they stepped inside, she could see uniformed men rushing up the steps. Vivian pulled Xavier deeper into the train car, among the crowd. The doors closed before the men reached the platform.

“They’ll be at the next stop,” Xavier wheezed. “Vivian, you have to leave me.”

“Absolutely not,” Vivian said fiercely. She opened the bag and rummaged to find a few painkillers. “Take these.”

He took the tablets from her hand and placed them in his mouth. “The end of the train should have a balcony. We’ll need to jump.”

“Jump …” Vivian took a deep breath. “Right, let’s go.” They slowly made their way through the swaying cars, careful not to draw attention. The bored passengers barely glanced their way. At the final train car, Xavier wrenched open the door, and they stepped onto the balcony. Air whipped around Vivian’s face as the train barreled forward, suspended from the rail.

Xavier’s eyes were feverishly bright as he took in the scene. He grabbed the medical bag from her slack fingers and put it over his shoulder without wincing. The soldiers’ painkillers must be powerful to have kicked in so fast. He pointed up. “See those arched bars holding the rail in place? We’ll grab onto one of them and pull ourselves off the train car. We’ll then inch ourselves down the side as best we can until we’re at a safe drop.”

“I don’t think I can do this.”

Xavier took her face in his hands. “Vivian Bowen, you are the bravest, stubbornest woman I know. Youcando this. I know it.” He kissed her, the briefest brush of lips. She stared up into his intent brown eyes and nodded. With Xavier’s arms helping her balance, she scrambled up onto the balcony railing and clutched the side pole for support as the balcony lurched from side to side. For once, she was taller than him.

She stared up at the arching bars that supported the track, stretching from the ground to above the top of the train and back down again. They weren’t much taller than the walls of her compound on Arcadia.

“On the count of three,” Xavier said as he pulled himself beside her.

Separatist soldiers would be waiting for them at the next station. She would jump, or they would kill her.

“One. Two. Three.”

Vivian pushed up and clutched the hard metal bar with both hands. Behind her, the train rushed away. She perched above the street, her feet dangling in the air. Xavier’s ragged breathing whistled in her ear, but she dared not turn her head. She took her hands and shimmed them across the arch moving lower and lower.

She jumped.

The low Martian gravity served her well as she nearly floated to the ground. She had a moment to think of Xavier’s more fragile bones. She angled her body to catch him as he fell to try to soften the blow. He dropped on top of her with a pained grunt.

For a moment, the briefest of moments, they stared at each other, dazed. Then, Xavier clambered to his feet, picked up the medical bag, and looked around.

“There.” He pointed to an alleyway. The corridor was dark and narrow. Trash kicked up in their wake as they hurried along. He pointed at an older, rusty door. “Try that one,” he gasped.