Down Under

[10]

We're all silent. Again, I think back the conversation I had with America, where he told me he purposefully got caught committing a serious crime so he could go on this mission. Then later, when I asked him about what he did before going to prison, he avoided the question.

He knew about this mission beforehand somehow, but he couldn't have guaranteed he would get on it unless he had connections. He said he was an engineer, but he made a joke when I asked him what sort of engineering he did.

The best lies are usually those that are closest to the truth. Maybe he actually was an engineer, but one working for the Interstellar Colonization Corporation. Could that be how he found out about the mission?

I get the feeling there is more to it, though. Why hide the fact that he worked for them unless he knows something the rest of us don't? Something he doesn't want us to find out.

"I'll go and talk to him," Elias finally whispers to Star and me. "He's just freaking out. I'm sure he'll come around."

"Be careful of him," Star says. "We still don't know—"

Elias nods. "If I see anything strange, I'll call you two." Then, he heads over and crouches down next to America. He lowers his voice as he speaks, making it impossible to hear what he is saying, especially through my helmet.

"You should sit down, too," Star tells me. "Rest your ankle for a minute."

I nod, lowering myself to the ground and relieving the pressure from my injured leg. I stretch it out in front of me. My body relaxes as the pain recedes.

"Does it feel broken?" she asked.

"I don't know." I run my hands over it, pressing lightly to test where the pain is stemming from. "I've never broken a bone before."

"Of course you haven't." She smirks.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I can't help but smile back. I know what she means. I don't exactly look like the danger seeking type. About the worst I've ever done is skin my knee.

"Let me take a look at it for you." She sits cross-legged in front of me and unzips my boot.

I wince as she removes it from my foot, pain flaring all the way up to my knee. My ankle has swollen slightly right around the bone. A purplish bruise is just beginning to form on my pale skin.

"Let me know when it hurts the most," Star says. Her gloved hand touches my ankle, and I flinch.

"Sure."

She presses against my skin lightly, her expression tense. Focused. I think about when Devin attacked us—what she did. I don't know if I could have finished the job like she did. Killing someone . . . I don't know if I have that in me. Star did it like someone swats a bug. Like it was nothing.

"That wasn't your first time, was it?" I ask.

"What?" She presses against my ankle, and pain flares up my shin.

"Ouch!" I grimace. My muscles tense. "That spot. That's the one."

She releases the pressure immediately. "Sorry."

"What you did to Devin," I say, stretching out my leg, "that wasn't your first time killing someone."

She pauses, but she doesn't flinch back from the question. "He wasn't Devin anymore, Shawn. But no, you're right. It wasn't my first time."

"Is that what you went to prison for?" I ask. "Murder?"

She lets out a long sigh through her nose. "Technically, yes. But I don't regret what I did. Getting caught, sure, would have liked to avoid that. But, the man I killed deserved to die."