Degrees of Wrong by Anna Scarlett Read Free Book Online Page A

couldn’t tell who was prevailing—lifeless uniforms from both sides freckled the road and surrounding fields. The living multitudes kept fleeing to the village, searching for a refuge, searching for loved ones, searching for mercy. Still, I stayed the course as shadows cast by the sun started to change direction. It was in the late afternoon that I stumbled, literally, over Blue Eyes.
    “Ow,” he said when I stepped on his hand—and then he laughed when he saw my kit. “Some doctor you are.”
    Immediately, I knew his life could be saved, that I could be of use to this one person out of so many I had failed today. And I was jubilant. I looked for a place to hide him and spotted the horrible little hut a short distance away. He saw my intent and laughed again.
    “That’s an outhouse, Doc,” he protested. But I was too excited to care. I peered down at him—then gasped. Blue eyes were replaced with brown ones, blond hair with black. Captain Marek sat at my feet, his tattered uniform exposing the cut physique I’d felt through his shirt. He held his hand up to me, just as Blue Eyes had done, but instead of letting me help him up, he pulled me down to him.
    Brushing my hair from my face and tucking it behind my ear, he traced a finger along my jawline, pressing my body into his with his free hand and drawing me closer. “What’s your name, cadet?” he murmured on my lips.
    I had no answer…

Chapter Four
    I thought I heard someone clear their throat but couldn’t be sure, so I didn’t look up.
    “Morgan?”
    I knew that voice. That voice belonged to a man I had recently met and decided to despise. As far as I remembered, he wasn’t very happy with me either, so the tone of concern didn’t make sense. I pulled my head from my knees.
    Captain Marek stood in the doorway of the restroom, hands folded behind his back, perfect brow furrowed in…worry? “Are you well?” he asked, striding toward me.
    Is he serious? “In what context?” Did he not, more or less, send me to this bathroom himself?
    “Are you ill?” He lowered himself on his haunches in front of me. My resting heart rate flatlined when he lifted my chin with the crook of his finger, turning my head side to side in his examination.
    “No.” I swatted his hand away, disappointed at the new heat swirling in my stomach.
    This sobered him up. I saw the exact moment it registered on his face. Not ill, not injured—just insubordinate. Again.
    He stood up, his creased brow straightening too. “I see you must have finished your task, then.”
    He could see I had not.
    It occurred to me that I had just swatted the captain of the ship within hours of head-butting him, and in the meantime, had disobeyed one of his officers. There was also a pretty good chance I drooled on his bathroom floor while doing it. So much for first—and second—impressions. On the positive side, he’d probably avoid me after this, so I wouldn’t have to worry about forgetting my name again or amputating someone’s head instead of their toe.
    Feeling confident that this would be our last encounter, I hoisted to my feet and stretched. “Actually, Captain, you run such a tight ship, there was nothing more I could do. It’s spotless. So I’ve been here waiting for further instruction.”
    He frowned, but despite his efforts, still looked glorious. “Dr. Folsom has boarded. I’ll take you to her.” He turned on his heel and walked away.
    I followed, in much better spirits after my nap—at least the nightmare meant that I had slept. He led me down the hallway, our boots clicking on the hard floor in disharmony, his long strides forcing me to keep an urgent pace. We stopped in front of an elevator whose ocean-blue doors opened in our presence.
    “Admiral Rudd’s office,” he commanded, and the elevator jolted me to the left, indicating our speedy travel to the right instead of up or down.
    Voice prompted. That would be advantageous to me while I fumbled my way around this