Page 13 of When Eden Falls

“What the hell happened?” Zamya barked at them. “Why did you go outside? Without atmospheric suits on, nevertheless?”

Kobe appeared uncomfortable with his head hung to the floor, unusually lost for words.

Oz spluttered from below, “The power went out. We went to check the cables.”

“What?” I gasped, looking at Rooke.

“They went outside without my knowledge,” he confirmed, squatting down next to us.

“Rooke was asleep,” Kobe mumbled. “We didn’t deem it necessary to wake him.”

“Are you insane?!” Zamya bawled, her expression full of shock and frustration. “You heard what Rooke said earlier. Those things eat metal. Why didn’t you wait for the backup systems to kick in?”

“They weren’t working.” Oz groaned.

“You absolute idiots! We could’ve survived without power for another few hours.”

“I know, Zamya,” Kobe’s voice was raised and angry. “You don’t need to point out the obvious. It was clearly a mistake!” I’d never heard him sound so distressed.

“We hadn’t seen…any movement on…the monitoring screens,” Oz said, starting to shiver.

“They were stealth-like,” Kobe stressed. “They pounced when Sym and Oz went outside.”

“Where is Sym?” asked a small voice from the corridor behind. Cora stood on the threshold wrapping her arms around herself. She looked half asleep, her complexion a shade paler than white.

I scanned the room. Sym wasn’t present. I looked back at Kobe and Rooke, waiting for them to answer Cora’s question. Kobe remained silent, staring at the floor. Rooke had a solemn, distant look on his face. I touched his arm and asked the question again. “Rooke, where’s Sym?”

He looked up at me, his eyes moist. “He’s…he’s still outside…Eden, Eden, NO!”

I launched myself towards the inner airlock door. I couldn’t leave Sym out there. He was one of us, one of the crew. Why would they leave him outside?

I reached for the door’s access button, but Rooke’s arm locked around my midriff, pulling me backwards into him. His breath was in my ear. “Eden, please don’t. He’s gone. Sym’s gone.” His voice cracked on the final word. I could feel his heart pounding behind me.

As his words sunk in, a tiny whimper escaped me. Rooke wrapped his other arm around my shoulders, pulling me tenderly closer.

“We can’t leave him out there,” my voice quivered.

“We have to. We…have to.”

I stared at the door, trying to make sense of it all. Sym was dead? His body was outside being mauled by giant, beetle like monsters, in a foreign world, trillions upon billions of miles from home. How could this have happened?

It was only when Rooke released me from his tender hold, I remembered Sym hadn’t slept all night. He’d been exhausted. Anyone that tired could’ve made mistakes or misjudged the situation. Why hadn’t I offered him to sleep in the spare bunk in our room? Why had I left him to endure the long night, relying on coffee to keep him awake? I felt angry with myself, angry with Oz and Kobe for their bad judgement. I was too angry to move, beyond anguished to cry, but too sombre to scream.

I glanced back at the rest of the crew. Zamya and Rooke were guiding Oz to the medical room. Kobe was still frozen on the spot, lost in his distressing thoughts. My gaze shifted to Cora at the back of the room. Her face was drenched in tears, her posture collapsing. I rushed over to her and pulled her into my chest. Letting her sob into my shoulder, I allowed my own tears to surface as the truth sunk in…

Sym was dead.

Sym was gone.

C h a p t e rS i x

Relief washed over me when Cora finally passed out from her hysteria. Leaving her sleeping in her bunk, I sought out Zamya. She was in the medical room, attempting to sew Oz’s wound under a flickering overhead light. Finding a large flashlight in Rooke’s empty study, I held it steady above Zamya and her patient, allowing her to work more efficiently.

Oz had been sedated. His complexion was unsoundly pale, his shoulder a mess of ripped tissue and punctured, oozing skin. When I realised the punctures were horrifyingly deep teeth marks, a shiver of fear scaled down my back.

“Will he be alright?” I asked, grimacing as I watched Zamya wipe and sew.

“Hopefully,” Zamya rasped. “As long as the wound doesn’t get infected.” She sat back and sighed heavily. “Why were they so idiotic? Our orders were to stay on the ship and observe, regardless of what was occurring outside. It’s bad enough losing Sym, but if we…if we lose Oz as well…we…”