Page 79 of Star-Crossed Captive
Heart galloping, palms sweaty, Nia tried to climb as fast as she could. The weapons fire behind the thick hatch was muffled and muted. Sounds of distress echoed from above as people climbed faster.
Elec…he didn’t enter the shaft behind her.
A sob clogged her throat as she continued to climb. The shaft’s bulkheads felt like they closed in on her. The echoing movements, the rustle of clothing, disoriented her senses the higher she went. When she passed another access hatch, she saw which deck she was on: nineteen.
A whimper escaped her. Her hands were already sore from the thin metal bar, but she didn’t stop, moving as fast as the man above her—which felt about as fast as a hundred-year-old shuttle only using half a thruster. The hatch below could open at any moment, exposing them to the defenders who’d attacked Elec.
Her pace faltered. Should she go back down? Defenders were supposed to be on her side.What is my side?
She kept climbing, desperation clogging her throat. Was Elec alive?
An ear-splitting sound, weapons fire, ripped through the shaft from above. Screams of terror echoed, then thumping noises, bodies hitting bodies. Someone was shooting at them from a hatch above. The man above rammed into her, an unavoidable force in the small space.
Nia screamed, losing her grip. She fell, the narrow rungs of the ladder scraping against her body, until her elbow caught against one of them, nearly ripping her arm off.
Bodies pushed passed her as they fell, and she had no way to determine if they were dead or alive. She pressed herself against the bulkhead, trying to make herself as small as possible, squeezing behind the ladder, her shoes slipping then holding. They kept falling and falling, ramming against her body, scraping. The weapons fire continued on, a never-ending barrage assaulting her eyes and ears as she held on as tight as she could. Her forearm burned with sharp pain.
The laser fire stopped. The screaming stopped. The only thing Nia could hear was her heavy breaths. She held perfectly still, afraid to move, terrified if she did, the shooting would start again. Shouts a long distance above made her flinch. Hot tears coated her cheeks.
Time passed slowly as she waited for silence. When it descended, its oppressive weight constricted her throat. Had no one else survived? She closed her eyes and thought of those who’d been ahead of her in the line. Bile rose, the taste coating the insides of her mouth. She could hear nothing from below, no groans or gasps that someone was injured and needed treatment. Her eyes tracked downward, but there was no movement, just the unending shaft disappearing into the black.No one to help.
Swallowing against the acidic taste that grew in her mouth, she searched the bulkhead in the dim light, and realized she’d stopped between two decks. It took an excruciating long time to get her limbs to co-operate, to release the rungs enough to rotate to the front of the ladder.
Her arm throbbed painfully. Her body shook as she moved as quietly as possible. With her damp hands and trembling legs, each rung she grabbed took her whole concentration. One wrong move, and she’d plummet like the others.
Listening for anyone else, Nia climbed a rung at a time until another hatch appeared. She wouldn’t ascend farther—not if it meant being shot. Stepping onto the ledge, she pressed her hands against the metal, uncertain how to open the hatch. For a panicked moment, she thought she was trapped, then saw the handle at the bottom.
Careful not to slip and fall, she braced her body against the bulkhead and gripped the handle. Her damp palms slipped on the smooth surface. Gritting her teeth, she wiped them on her leggings, grabbed with both hands, and pulled.
A hiss of air escaped the seal, then the shaft turned into a wind tunnel as the corridor’s fresh air battled with the stagnant stuff in the shaft. Nia froze. Had that been too loud? Was there someone on the other side of the hatch? When she didn’t hear anything, she pushed the door open.
The corridor’s deck glared red under the emergency lights. Nia stepped one foot out, waiting for something to tell her if it was safe or not. When only silence remained, she climbed out the rest of the way. Heart in her throat, she leaned against the bulkhead, willing the strength back into her legs.
This corridor looked exactly like the one Mace’s corridors were on, except the numbers on the doors began with CUL24.
Where was Mace?Is he even alive?What about Dee or Kessy?
Her chest tightened painfully, bile rising in her throat once more. She stared at the shaft she’d exited and gripped her locket. Defenders had fired down indiscriminately…they were supposed todefend. It was in their name. None of those people had been armed, some children,babies, and the defenders hadn’t cared.
Her vision blurred. She’d done this. She’d killed all of them as assuredly as if she’d pulled the trigger herself. Her chest felt like it was shrinking. She couldn’t breathe.
Her liquid legs collapsed beneath her, the bulkhead her only support as she sank to the deck. Darkness seeped into the edges of her vision. The baby’s cries echoed in her head paired with the thumping of the bodies as they fell. Her body shook.
Footsteps stomped along the next corridor. Nia froze in place, unable to move. They kept getting closer, the heaviness of their steps matching how hard her heart pounded. She gasped as two defenders rounded the corner, and scrambled to her feet. Their helmets were opaque, silver uniforms splattered with blood, and their weapons were aimed straight at her.
Nia lifted her hands in surrender, exposing her bonds.
“She’s CORE,” said the one, his voice generic through his helmet’s interface.
“You heard our orders,” the other one replied, his head tilted over the sight of the weapon. “Leave no survivors.”
A shout of pure terror burst from her throat. Nia spun and ran, hugging the side of the bulkhead so the open hatch door would block her. This wasn’t a rescue mission. It was a siege. Her feet stumbled beneath her, and she braced for the pain of death.
The shots never came. She kept running.
Two more defenders turned the corner in front of her. Nia screamed, skidding, falling on her bottom at their feet. They aimed their weapons above her and fired.
Another weapon blasted from behind her, connecting with their personal shielding, making it ripple in stress. But it was the sudden appearance of a knife, plunged to the hilt, that captured her gaze. The blade was wedged in the space between the helmet and uniform of the defender on the right. She blinked and a matching wound appeared on the other defender.
