1942664419 (S) (30 page)

Holy crap.

Poseidon shouted in Erescopian. David stepped away from us and stared at the larger alien. Poseidon pulled and shrieked, unable to free his arm from the wall. The partitions encroached, closing around him.

Edgar still lay in a heap on the floor. If he’d sacrificed his life for us, at least Poseidon was trapped for the moment.

David ran to Poseidon, pulling at the Caretaker’s arm.

“Leave him!” I cried.

“He can’t,” Nematali said, holding her cheek. “He’s been ordered to help. He has no choice with the shunt.”

David smashed his shoulder against the wall. Poseidon only sunk further.

“Get me out!” The huge alien spat, his eyes veined and bulging as the wall sucked him further in.

Bluish blood splattered to the floor as David pounded the wall without mercy. Poseidon flailed his head. The memory of the pressure against my chest as the walls surged toward me, the inability to gain a breath, the sheer terror, ripped through my mind.

Thick purple fluid sprayed David’s white shirt as the false-ambassador choked and coughed blood. A grunt gurgled through the fluid, followed by a hiss of bubbling air. Blood seeped from Poseidon’s eyes as the dark irises glossed over.

His struggle stopped.

The deep gray ooze continued to congeal around him. His face was the last to disappear as the wall sucked him in.

David backed up a step, panting.

The wall that had absorbed Poseidon ceased shimmering. The particles dulled. A crack formed it the surface. The wall was dead, and most likely everything trapped within.

David fell to his knees, holding his head as he bellowed a desolate cry. He reached for the floor, steadying himself.

Was it over, or was the collar still in control?

I took a hesitant step toward him. “David?”

He stood suddenly, and I jumped back. His eyes flashed in our direction, before he shook his head and blinked his eyes. Breathing deeply, he reached to his neck and unclasped the metal collar, throwing the shunt to the floor. David stared at his hands, flexing them.

The walls quaked. The scent of dead fish wafted through the hangar.

Something crashed on the floors above us.

“We need to go.” David turned and headed toward the ships.

I scooped Edgar into my arms. “I got you, buddy.” The creature chittered and raised a hesitant leg.

Nematali and Dad followed, dragging the unconscious ambassador between them.

The wall to our left melted, spilling gobs of goo onto the deck, while the panel to our right cracked like dry clay, littering dust at our feet.

David stopped at the base of our ship. His gaze touched each of our faces. “This ship won’t carry all of us. I was barely hopeful it could take three. We’re almost out of power.”

Nematali balanced the ambassador on one shoulder and pointed to the hovering orb beside our ship. “I can take the skipper ship. With the ambassador unconscious, I can lay him at my feet.”

David nodded as the flooring trembled. “When you get out, make for the nearest transport.” He glanced at the craft we’d arrived in. Its hull seemed dull in comparison to the skipper. The waterfall had disappeared, and the ship lay flat on the deck. “We’ll probably be dead in space within minutes. You’ll need to send someone for us.”

Dad furrowed his brow as he followed Nematali to the small, circular craft. “Looks more like a giant marble than a spaceship.”

“I assure you, it is much faster than a marble.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

The ship lowered and molded to the flooring. Dad and Nematali hefted the ambassador’s limp body through the liquescent surface until he disappeared. Nematali glanced at each of us before she followed. The orb’s exterior closed around her like flowing water, and the ship rose.

Part of the ceiling fell above, dribbling on the orb and coating the hull with black blobs that trickled down like gooey raindrops as her ship lifted into the air. I sheltered Edgar as another splotch hit my shoulder.

“Come on,” David called, reaching for me.

I clutched his hand, and he pulled Edgar and me through the chilly outer wall.

Dad slid in behind me. His gazed darted left to right. “This thing flies?”

“Let’s hope so,” David said, tapping a shiny panel on the wall.

I set Edgar down on the floor beside the entrance. He limped into the nearest wall and immersed himself into the liquid metal until he vanished. I hoped he had a seatbelt somewhere in there. I pushed my backpack beside the wall.

Dad and I followed David to the front of the ship, where he sank his hands into the controls. Three chairs appeared. The ship rattled. I slipped into the seat on David’s right.

We jolted as our ship rose into the air.

Dad sat beside me. “Is there a way to belt ourselves in?” The chair came to life, securing him in a cushion of liquid metal. “Well, I guess that answers that question.”

My chair molded around me as the ship joggled and lurched, knocking David into his seat. “This isn’t going to be one of my best flights,” he said to the windows in front of him.

Lovely thought, since he crash-landed the last few times out.

The windows closed into swirling, black opal pools. I closed my eyes and whispered a prayer. We only had to get off the dying cruiser. Then someone could pick us up. We’d been through worse. We could do this.

My chair filled in the spaces around my neck and head as the rattling increased.

“David?”

“We’re okay!”

“Is this normal?” Dad asked.

I didn’t answer. So far, all of David’s flights seemed to be like this.

Bile rose in my throat as we continued to shake. I closed my eyes. It hadn’t taken us this long to land on the ambassador’s cruiser. We should have been out by now.

The ship bounced twice and lurched to a stop.

“No!” David bellowed.

My eyes shot open.

David leaned over the panel, swishing his arms erratically. He looked up at the blank screen. “No. No. No. No. No. No!” He banged his fist on the panel, but it sunk right through.

A hum pulsed through the outer walls. David looked up.

“What is that?” I asked.

He turned to me. His wide eyes narrowed as he gulped. Either he didn’t know, or he didn’t want to tell me.

We tilted to the side. A whoosh sounded from the right, as if something had slid beside us. We shuddered, jostled, and started moving again.

“Something knocked us free. I can’t believe it.” David sat back, and the chair engulfed him.

My seat rattled beneath me. I closed my eyes and held my breath. We jerked again, and the shaking stopped.

David exhaled as his chair relaxed, letting him sit forward. The windows opened to bright, twinkling stars. The ambassador’s ship drifted to the right, somewhat out of view. Part of the rear of the cruiser dripped off like thick sludge and floated into space. A cloud of vapor fizzled from the opening left behind.

Our chairs released us, and David rested his forehead on the edge of the console.

I slid my hand along his back. “Hey, we made it.”

“You did good, kid,” Dad said.

David elevated his head. “I think after today I’m going to retire from flying. I don’t have the nerve for this.” A chirp sounded from the console, and a light flittered across the window. “Nematali Carash and the ambassador made it to another ship. They’re sending help.”

I sat back in my chair and covered my face with my hands. A giggle sprang free. Not that any of this had been funny. Spending time with David was never boring, that was for sure.

Dad smiled and messed my hair. I collapsed into his arms. His strength infused me. For so long I’d dreamed of getting away from the Army—of getting away from him. Nothing could have been further from what I wanted now.

“How long was I on that ship?” Dad asked.

“About three days.”

He cringed. “I never went back to Iraq, did I?”

I placed my hands on his cheeks. “You’re going to be okay now.”

He nodded and pulled me into another hug. “I know,
Pequeña
. I know.”

I felt him lean over my shoulder and shake David’s hand. Did he know it had been David he saved, and not Colin?

Maybe it didn’t matter. As long as he was back with me. For good, this time.

The ship jiggled.

David frowned into the console. “What is that?” The ship lurched again, and he pressed buttons overhead that I couldn’t see. “That’s not possible.”

The happy little bubble in my stomach popped. “What’s not possible?”

“Our directionals shot off—like they were preprogrammed or something.”

“Is that bad?”

He fiddled with the controls. “Maybe. It’s asking for a passcode.”

Dad stepped beside him. “I guess you don’t know what that passcode is.”

“No.”

Earth came into view. Big and beautiful. And getting closer.

Dad stood taller and pointed out the window. “Is that okay?”

David moved his hands through the panel. “No, that is definitely not okay.” He moved to a different panel beside him. “They programmed us to head straight for Earth, and I don’t have the codes to stop us.” He palmed his forehead. “They knew this ship would never survive re-entry!” He took a deep breath and started pushing invisible buttons.

“What are you doing?” Dad asked.

“Letting everyone know we’re in trouble. On every possible channel.” He looked up. “They sabotaged us, just in case we got out. They’re propelling us toward Earth with no way to escape.”

The ship joggled. “What was that?” I asked.

David winced. “Earth’s gravitational pull.”

The cool, calculated visage of Major Tomás Martinez coated Dad’s face. “Will your friends get here in time?”

Earth filled the view screen. The floor rattled through my sneakers, jostling my bones to the point of shattering.

David shook his head. “That was the last of our time.” His gaze panned to the window. His cheeks darkened with a violet hue.

“What does that mean?” I asked.

He turned to me. His eyes wide and seeking, digging into my heart and settling himself inside, but he was already there. He had been since we first met.

David caressed my cheek with the hand that had lost its human covering. His Erescopian skin scorched my jaw, but I stood still, hardly breathing, soaking in his eyes. What was it? What was he thinking?

The burn turned to a tingle that shot into me, searching through every cell and stroking each part of me before drawing back and away.

His gaze moved to my father. Dad winced and shook his head. When their gazes met again, Dad nodded. His features hardened past the toughened appearance of a seasoned soldier. Had David done something to him? Said something to him?

David gripped my hand. “We have to go. Now.”

39

I stumbled as David pulled us to the back of the ship, stopping in front of the escape pods.

There were only two.

Oh, God
. I spun around. “Don’t you dare!”

Both Dad and David shoved at the same time, backing me into the glass tube. The thick, clear barrier sealed instantly.

A numbness swept over me. There was only one escape pod left, and the two people I loved most in the word were still outside.

I slapped my hands against the glass. “Don’t do this! There’s plenty of room in here. We can fit two people in one.” They both looked away. “No! Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare!”

David placed his hand on the wall beside me, and the other tube opened. He picked my backpack up from the floor and tossed it inside. His muffled voice permeated the glass. “Her camera is in here. She’ll want those pictures.”

Dad nodded. “Yeah, and you’ll be giving them to her.”

No!

David’s nose flared. “I won’t, sir. She needs her father. You’re one of the few things always on her mind.”

“Your people need you, David.” Dad pointed at the escape pod. “Get in the damn tube!”

The ship shook around us. My heart thumped, ripping through my chest.

David lowered his eyes. “You’re right.” He glanced at me and stepped toward the other escape pod.

I banged on the window. “There has to be another way!”

They both acted like they couldn’t hear me. Idiotic, stupid, self-righteous—

At the entrance, David turned, grabbed Dad’s arm, and threw him inside. The door sealed.

Dad smashed his fist against the glass. “Dammit, David, open this door.”

“Take care of her for me,” David said.

A deep hum filled my escape pod. David’s gaze trailed to the ceiling, then to me. The ship rumbled as if we were on top of a clothes dryer. He closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against the glass.

I met his touch from within. Tears streamed down my cheeks and dripped onto the floor. “Please, David. Open the door. There’s enough room for both of us.”

He took a step back. “There won’t be.”

“Please don’t do this. Dad’s right. Your people need you.” My lips twisted. “I need you.”

His fingers traced my face through the glass. “Nothing is more important to me than you.”

“I’m not important. I’m nothing. Nothing!”

His eyes teared. “You’re wrong. Your life will always be worth more than mine.” His face hardened.

“David!”

He punched his fist beside the glass, and my body flung against the back of the tube. The walls of the escape pod came to life, instantly forming a soft restraint around me. David’s ship became smaller as I jettisoned away. I tried to scream his name, but my voice was lost inside the constant vibration, the rattling, the whirr of unimaginable speed.

I pitched forward as if hitting something. Dad’s pod rolled over mine, window to window. The clunk of bolts locking into place thumped through the chamber. Had we been connected the whole time?

A grimace disfigured Dad’s face. His cheeks stretched and bobbled as his knuckles whitened on his restraints.

We spun. Slowly at first. Within a few seconds I had no idea which way was up.

Dad’s lips moved constantly. His gaze fixed on my face.

I gasped as moist warmth encompassed me, but the dampness abated, leaving only the scorch of increasing heat behind. Sweat soaked my hair and dripped into my eyes. My head rattled. My mother’s necklace drifted out of my blouse and seemed to hang before me. Struggling to move, I reached for the oval. The metal burned my hand, but I didn’t let it go.