Strandline

Strandline - Episode 7: First Impressions

Only Craig’s whispered “Let him finish” kept Naveen in the doorway to the hospital room. It must have been drugs talking. Why else would Craig want the Greenman who’d attacked their ship waving a bloody knife over him?

As soon as the terrorist stopped muttering supposed magical incantations, Naveen advanced on him. “You!”

“Naveen,” Petra said behind him, “don’t—”

“Stop!”

Craig’s voice brought Naveen to a halt. He turned so he could keep an eye on the Greenman masquerading as a doctor. “Why—” Naveen’s retort evaporated when he laid eyes on his friend. Craig was fine; more fine than a day at a hospital should make him. The gash on the side of his head was gone. There were no stitches, or even a scar. Judging from how he sat up straight in his bed, the burns on his back were gone as well.

“You… He…” Naveen reluctantly faced the Greenman, who looked far too confident. Although they were the same height, Naveen had 30 pounds of muscle on the fair-skinned man. He bet he could take him in a fair fight, even with his left arm in a sling.

“Naveen,” Craig said, keeping his voice down. “He healed me.”

“Why?” Kristin—who Naveen had pretty much forgotten about—echoed his thoughts. He glanced in their direction. She and Petra stood just inside the doorway. Both looked wary.

“We hadn’t meant to hurt anyone,” the Greenman said. Naveen was about to laugh in the bastard’s face, but his expression was sincere. “I’m trying to make things right.”

Kristin sniffed. Petra frowned and met the terrorist’s eyes. “Perhaps you should select your targets more carefully.”

The Greenman held her gaze. “Our tactics are none of your concern.”

“They are when your little crusade gives all nictans a bad name.”

“Then—”

Naveen stepped between them. “Waitaminnit.” He turned to Petra, waving at the Greenman with his good arm. “You know him?”

“Yes.” The woman’s answer dripped distain. “His name is Bryce.” She glanced over her shoulder at Kristin. “He won’t hurt anyone. Not here and now, anyway.”

“Dammit, Petra,” Bryce growled.

Craig cleared his throat. “If no one’s going to hurt anyone—” He glanced pointedly at Naveen and Bryce “—perhaps we should shut the door.”

Petra gave him a small smile. “Good idea.” She nodded at Kristin, who stepped inside and pulled the door shut. “Hello, Craig. I’m Petra, and this is my friend Kristin. Naveen’s been worried about you.”

“That makes two of us,” Craig grinned.

Naveen almost smiled as well, but caught himself. How could Craig be cracking jokes when the man who’d attacked him stood at the foot of his bed? He turned his frustration on the Greenman. “What the hell, man? You run around bombing ships, then track down the survivors and heal them with pixie dust? That’s fucked up!”

Bryce glowered, balling his fists. Blood dripped from the hand he’d cut with his knife. “We didn’t attack your ship.”

“I saw you there!” Craig said.

“Me too,” Naveen confirmed. “You were making a magical waterspout to sink the whole ship or something.”

“I was cleaning up the copycats’ mess!”

Stunned silence filled the room. After a few moments Petra said, “Copycats?”

“Magical waterspout?” Kristin murmured.

Bryce pursed his lips, then snatched up his dagger from the bed. “I don’t have to explain myself to you.” Although he addressed them all, his eyes lingered on Petra’s the longest. Then he frowned at Naveen’s arm. “I can heal that, if you want. Decide now. I need to leave.”

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Photo credit: http://www.flickr.com/photos/toniblay/56903501/