The Host (The Host #1)(189)



Jared was the one to realize the jeep was gone. And Ian had been the one to link the two absences.

“He’s gone after Jodi,” Ian had groaned. “What else?”

Hope and despair. I had given them one, Kyle the other. Would he betray them all before they could even make use of the hope?

Jared and Jeb wanted to put off the raid until we knew if Kyle was successful—it would take him three days under the best circumstances, if his Jodi still lived in Oregon. If he could find her there.

There was another place, another cave we could evacuate to. A much smaller place, with no water, so we couldn’t hide there long. They’d debated whether they should move everyone now or wait.

But I was in a hurry. I’d seen the way the others eyed the silver tank in my arms. I’d heard the whispers. The longer I kept the Seeker here, the better chance that someone would kill her. Having met Lacey, I’d begun to pity the Seeker. She deserved a mild, pleasant new life with the Flowers.

Ironically enough, Ian was the one who took my side and helped hurry the raid along. He still didn’t see where this would lead.

But I was grateful that he helped me convince Jared there was time to make the raid and get back before a decision was made about Kyle. Grateful also that he was back to playing bodyguard. I knew I could trust Ian with the shiny cryotank more than anyone else. He was the only one I would let hold it when I needed my arms. He was the only one who could see, in the shape of that small container, a life to be protected. He could think of that shape as a friend, something that could be loved. He was the best ally of all. I was so grateful for Ian, and so grateful for the obliviousness that saved him, for the moment, from pain.

We had to be fast, in case Kyle ruined everything. We went to Phoenix again, to one of the many communities that spun out from the hub. There was a big shuttle field to the southeast, in a town called Mesa, with several Healing facilities nearby. That was what I wanted—I would give them as much as I could before I left. If we took a Healer, then we might be able to preserve the Healer’s memory in the host body. Someone who understood all the medicines and their uses. Someone who knew the best ways to get to unattended stashes. Doc would love that. I could imagine all the questions he’d be dying to ask.

First the shuttle field.

I was sad that Jeb was missing this, but he’d have so many other chances in the future. Though it was dark, a long line of small snub-nosed shuttles drifted in to land while others took flight in an endless stream.

I drove the old van while the others rode in the back—Ian in charge of the tank, of course. I circled the field, staying clear of the busy local terminal. It was easy to spot the vast, sleek white vessels that left the planet. They did not depart with the frequency of the smaller ships. All I saw were docked, none preparing to leave immediately.

“Everything’s labeled,” I reported to the others, invisible in the dark back. “Now, this is important. Avoid ships to the Bats, and especially the See Weeds. The See Weeds are just one system over—it takes only a decade to make the round trip. That’s much too short. The Flowers are the farthest, and the Dolphins, Bears, and Spiders all take at least a century to go one way. Only send tanks to those.”

I drove slowly, close to the crafts.

“This will be easy. They’ve got all kinds of delivery vehicles out here, and we blend in. Oh! I can see a tank truck—it’s just like the one we saw them unloading at the hospital, Jared. There’s a man looking over the stacks… He’s putting them onto a hover cart. He’s going to load them…” I drove even slower, trying to get a good look. “Yes, onto this ship. Right into the open hatch. I’ll circle back and make my move when he’s in the ship.” I pulled past, examining the scene in my mirrors. There was a lit sign beside the tube that connected the head of the ship to the terminal. I smiled as I read the words backward. This ship was going to the Flowers. It was meant to be.

I made a slow turn as the man disappeared into the hull of the ship.

“Get ready,” I whispered as I pulled into the shadow made by the cylindrical wing of the next enormous ship over. I was only three or four yards from the tank truck. There were a few technicians working near the front of the Flower-bound vessel and others, farther away, out on the old runway. I would be just another figure in the night.

I cut the engine and hopped down from the driver’s seat, trying to look casual, like I was only doing my job. I went around to the back of the van and opened the door a crack. The tank was right at the edge, the light on top glowing dull red, signifying that it was occupied. I lifted it carefully and closed the door.

I kept up an easy rolling pace as I walked to the open end of the truck. But my breathing sped up. This felt more dangerous than the hospital, and that worried me. Could I expect my humans to risk their lives this way?

I’ll be there. I’ll do it myself, just like you would. On the off chance you get your way, that is.

Thanks, Mel.

I had to force myself not to keep glancing over my shoulder at the open hatch where the man had disappeared. I placed the tank gently atop the closest column in the truck. The addition, one among hundreds, was not noticeable.

“Goodbye,” I whispered. “Better luck with your next host.”

I walked back to the van as slowly as I could stand to.

It was silent in the van as I reversed out from under the big ship. I started back the way we’d come, my heart hammering too fast. In my mirrors, the hatch remained empty. I didn’t see the man emerge before the ship was out of sight.

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