Page 104 of Bound By Stars

Weslie and I lock eyes through the holomap.

Tar appears behind the map next to Weslie, breaking our connection. “If they can double up, pack them full, it might work. They’re built to sustain the passengers for two weeks, and we’re less than six days away.”

“Weslie, I detect bruising and abrasions on your left and right wrists. My scans indicate the wounds—”

“I’m fine, ILSA.”

A violent rattle tears through the ship, and the three of us grip the edge of the table. When it passes, Tar’s eyes are wide. His voice is so low I have to lean into the holomap to hear. “The ship isn’t going to make it. With a few system issues, sure, but the backups are failing. It’s too much.”

“Look.” Wes points to my chest and I drop my chin to see the upper second-class bay displayed in orange lines over my sternum. Another pod goes dim. “They’re already leaving.”

“Didn’t they say there were extra pods somewhere?” Wes circles the map to stand beside me. I examine her serious expression as she scans the lower levels. Moving her hands over the glowing lines, she zooms into one of the cargo levels. I wince at the angry bruised rings around her wrists.

I gently take her hands. “We’re better off getting down there before they’re all gone.”

She presses her hands to my chest and her voice drops to a whisper. “Those pods are going to fill up fast. We need a backup plan.”

“What the… You all need to see this,” Curran calls from the surveillance station on the other side of the mezzanine.

Tar rushes to Curran’s side, where he’s silhouetted in the light of a patchwork of little screens.

I shift but can’t pull myself away from Weslie’s orbit.

She nods and gently pushes me to go as she returns to the holomap, combing over every centimeter of the ship for the spare escape pods while fending off ILSA, who insists on tending to her wounds again.

A muffled scream from the amphitheater stops me in my tracks. I peer down from the top of the stairs to the middle level, where Asha stares at the floor with her hands over her mouth, backing along the stretch of the desk.

“What is it, Ash?” I run down the steps and into the row.

She turns, eyes wide.

Tucked under the desk, I find a vacant stare. Her fire-red hair is still bright, but her skin is ashen, mouth parted like she died before she could utter her last words. Sofie. One of our bridge tour guides.

Tar and Curran run down the stairs. On the top level, Skye is at one end of the room, and Weslie peers down from the other. I meet her stare and shake my head as ILSA rolls up next to her.

“Weslie, I detect—”

“Silent mode, ILSA.”

Taking Asha by the shoulders, I try to pull her away, but she’s frozen. “Ash, come on. We have to get out of here.”

Several pairs of footsteps echo through the hall outside the bridge, growing louder.

I wave my hand to them all, mouthing,Get down.

Curran grabs Tar and they duck into the row across from us. Weslie, ILSA, and Skye each disappear on the top level, and I pull Asha under the desk.

As they enter the bridge, an unfamiliar voice says, “…and half the first-class passengers are rushing for the second-class pod bays. It’s complete chaos.”

I inch forward, peeking out from under the edge of the desk. There are five of them, but my view is limited from this angle. I don’t know how they haven’t spotted ILSA. It’s not like she can just duck under a table.

Asha lifts her hand and it’s painted red. She sucks in air and scrambles away, closer to me.

I clap a hand over her mouth before she can scream and press my back to the barrier under the desk.

The footsteps stop at the upper level, near surveillance. “What the hell happened to following the plan?”

Captain Nazari.

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