Again, the quetzal stuck its head out from under the wing, the three eyes rotating her way.

Kylee bent down, pointed at Bogarten, who sat with his jaw clenched. “Fenn needs you to carry him up to the airtruck. He’s going to ride on your back. He’s wounded, so be careful.” She paused, reading his affirmation in orange as the collar flared.

“Fenn, scoot over here. As Flute eases out from under the wing, drop onto his back, just above the front legs. Now, it’s going to hurt, but you need to clamp with your thighs.”

As Bogarten shuffled his way over, he muttered, “I don’t believe this. I’m riding on a creep-freaking quetzal! No one’s gonna believe this.”

“Yeah, well, I’d take a holo, but we’re a little shy on equipment out here.”

Like a working radio. One that would tell us where the hell Kalico is.

“Fenn, I see that you’ve got a pistol on your hip. I don’t give a fuck if it’s mobbers. Don’t shoot it while you’re on Flute. He’ll drop you flat. And, given your leg and the roots, that would be the real shits.”

“Got it. No shooting.”

She helped Bogarten by supporting his broken leg as he positioned himself over Flute, then clapped him on the back as he slid onto the quetzal’s back.

“All right, Flute. Get him up to the airtruck. And then get your butt back down and keep us safe. We’re on the way as soon as we get Soukup’s litter off the wing.”

Flute flashed iridescent orange, white, and pink patterns; then he carefully eased out, picking his way through the wrecked trees, and then down out of sight into the forest. Bogarten looked like he had a corncob up his ass, but kept his seat.

“That’s the easy part.” She turned, looking at Falise. “You ready to help lift the litter off the wing?”

The woman—already looking haggard—nodded. “This doesn’t get any easier, does it?”

“Nope.” Kylee hopped off the wing, pulling the upper handles around. “Falise, I can see that you’re hot, dehydrated, and exhausted. And it’s all uphill. But if we don’t make the airtruck, if you can’t find the stamina, you, Soukup here, and these walking brainless zombies are going to die. So you reach down into whatever Taglioni guts you’ve got and hold up your end.”

“And no mistakes,” Falise said through a weary exhale.

“Glad you got that.” Kylee pulled the litter out as Falise got under it, managed to lift it off the wing, and not drop it. “Because you only get one. There will be no second.”

Chapter 61

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