Page 16 of Caldar
The next step would be to destroy the ship. It was the pattern that Suhlik raids followed.
He twisted wires together. Lights flickered as the locking mechanism released, then died. It did not matter. He forced the unlocked door, leaning his shoulder into it.
When the door opened enough, he braced one arm against the door to hold it in place and waved Sonia through. She slipped under this arm, her feet kicking and pushing against his torso and thighs.
She was doing well. He wished he could tell her, but the emergency breathing units did not have that function. They provided a limited supply of oxygen, minimal protection against the cold, and were meant for short-term use. Essentially, they had two countdowns to beat.
When Sonia cleared the door, he slipped through. It slammed shut behind him. Another locked door waited before them. They were in an air lock, one of the safety features of the ship. Along the corridor, a series of doors sealed off the breach. It was excessive and he would have to force open every door until they reached Sonia’s cabin.
Hopefully, it was close.
The next door was easier to open. He did not have to fight against a depressurizing atmosphere. Red lights flashed, and a computer advised passengers to return calmly to their cabins. Gravity resumed on the other side of the barrier, and they no longer needed the respirators.
He landed on his feet with a groan, pain flaring in his injured leg.
Keep moving.He had no time to indulge an injury.
“You can remove that but keep it on your person,” he said.
“Thank fuck.” Sonia slipped it into her pocket. “Where is everyone?”
The corridor had a desolation he did not like.
“Not our concern.”
“What about the other passengers? We need to help them,” she said.
“We do not have time to argue. You are admirable for wanting to help others, but our survival depends on acting fast. Now, show me the way to your cabin.”
Her eyes blazed with fury, and her jaw clenched. Caldar prepared himself for the necessary action of tossing the female over his shoulder and carrying her off. She would be upset with him, but she would be alive.
“Fine,” Sonia said. Despite claiming the situation was acceptable, her tone indicated it was the furthest thing from acceptable.
She took off down the corridor at a brisk pace. He limped behind her. Occasionally, she tossed him a concerned look, but he kept a neutral, stoic expression on his face. Pain was temporary. If they failed to reach an emergency pod in time, their deaths would be permanent.
At an intersection, Sonia rounded a corner. They went down three levels, opened more doors, and finally arrived at a modest cabin.
The bed’s headboard flashed a series of annoyingly colorful lights, emergency mode activated.
“Do I pack?” She grabbed a bag.
“There is no time. In the bed.” He sat down on the bed with a groan and stretched out his leg. He tore the trouser fabric to get a better look at the injury. The flesh was raw, and he could not tell if the bullet passed through. “Forgive me for ruining the sheets.”
“I don’t care about the sheets. Let me get a first aid kit,” she said.
“No time. The wound has ceased bleeding.” Carefully, he rolled onto his side. “There is room for us both.”
She bit her lip, then climbed in. The fact that she did not argue or resist his command alarmed him. She was scared, and he disliked seeing fear on her face.
Her bag wedged in between them, the sharp objects inside poking him. Did she pack sticks? He could think of no other reason for the contents to be so unpleasant. When she settled, he reached to the headboard and pressed the flashing emergency button.
A canopy enveloped the bed. A calm computer voice walked them through the emergency procedure.
“In the unlikely event of evacuation, the pod will transmit an emergency beacon and will seek out the nearest habitable planet.”
He had not exactly been truthful when he said there was room for them both. It was a tight fit. His horns scraped against the pod’s ceiling.
“Cancel that order,” Caldar said.
