Page 113 of Bound By Stars

The weight of gravity shoves us toward the ground.

The noises in the domed room multiply. Screaming. Tearing. Splattering. Guttural and gruesome.

I hug tight to the tree trunk, but Jupiter falls. Sheets of rough bark rain down on top of him. I pull him up, and he shakes bits of leaf out of his hair.

We sprint for the exit. A body slams to the floor at our feet.

Jupiter pulls me away, and we’re running again.

Ahead, Hale stumbles out of the trees, holding his head and searching the fallen bodies. He doesn’t acknowledge Jupiter calling his name, telling him to run. Someone checks his shoulder, rushing past, and he comes to life, sprinting for the exit.

From overhead, there’s a wet, gurgling cry for help. I raise my eyes to a girl, her fingers twitching at the end of an outstretched hand. The pointed tip of a pine tree protrudes through her abdomen. Meridian. My blood turns to ice and my legs slow.

Jupiter frowns, looking back, but I catch the side of his face. “Keep moving. You don’t want to see.”

We run through the curved passageway toward the stairway to the lower levels. The crowd is significantly thinner. Far fewer people than entered the arboretum.

I block out the sounds and keep my eyes on the stairwell door. We can’t help them now. If we don’t get to the escape pods, we’re as good as dead, too.

Chapter Forty-Two

Jupiter

Six days to Mars

At the top of the stairwell, we pass a wide-eyed man with droplets of blood splattered across his face and shirt. He marks every person who passes with his frantic gaze like he’s waiting for someone who may never catch up. The horrific sounds echo in my head. Crunching bones. Bodies tearing between branches.

I squeeze Weslie’s hand, reminding myself she’s still with me as we pass the dining room and through the door to the sublevels. As we descend the steps, my arm extends over the growing gap between us.

Behind me, she’s slowing down, her feet barely moving.

“Wes,” I call out over the bouncing echoes in the cavernous stairwell.

Her head snaps back toward me. Dull, watery eyes meet mine. Her face has gone pale. She parts her lips but doesn’t say anything. Rubbing her forehead, she looks back over her shoulder.

“Wes, are you all right?”

She gives a sharp nod. “Yes, I’m…I’m sorry. Let’s go.”

At the next landing, the entrance to the second-class escape pods is packed so tight that no one can move. First-class passengers shove and fight to get through, half of them with blood-streaked faces. Panicked expressions. Dozens of people openly sobbing. The aftermath of a massacre.

Stuck halfway down the stairs, I crouch to peer through the gap between the doorway and the heads of others blocking our way, but I can’t see past the blockage of bodies.

“Asha?” Weslie calls over the crowd. No response.

“Curran?” I yell. Nothing. I try again. But they aren’t here.

A screech rips through the chaos. “Stop pushing!”

“You’ll crush us all, and no one will get off the ship!” Another booming voice quiets the crowd before it erupts again.

Weslie leans close to my ear, keeping her voice low. “There’s another level of pods. Reve showed me. One floor down.”

I nod, trying to cut into the crowd below, but shoulders slam together in front of me like an iron gate. “Excuse me.”

“Wait your turn!” a woman snaps, shoving me back into Weslie.

She catches me, keeping me on my feet.

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