Kate
Rune slides the wall closed behind us, taking the soft glow of the Lower Hangar with it. Up ahead of us in the vastness of the tunnels I hear the others moving slowly through the passage. There’s a dim halo of light above them illuminating their path.
“What’s this Core place we’re going to?” I ask.
Rune stares down at me. It’s hard to see his expression through the darkness.
“It’s the middle of the ship. Its insides, if you will. Where the reactors are stationed—the brain of the aircraft.” His palms flatten against the small of my back, and even though I wear their armor, I feel his fingers like tiny pinpricks of heat against my skin. He leads me by the warmth of his fingertips down the hidden hallway.
“And we’ll be safe there?”
He stills for a moment and I feel him look down at me. He’s hesitating, like he’s trying to figure out the right words. “From what I know of you so far,” he says, with a long sigh, “you’re not the type to believe in shallow assurances.”
“You don’t really know what’s going on, do you? You’re as much in the dark as my planet was.” I’m glad for the darkness of the tunnel we’re in, because I’m sure he’d be able to read the terror in my expression if it were visible.
“Once we make it to the Core, I’ll be able to update and run diagnostics. We’ll all need to update or we’ll starve.”
“And you’ll tell me what you know? You won’t hide anything from me?” Even though they were meant to be questions they sound like demands. My patience has run out and I’m too overwhelmed to deal with anything but the reality of the situation, no matter how bad it seems.
“You have my word,” he says softly, “Now release your hand and arm shield, right here—” His voice is lower, much closer to me now, and he touches the small levers along the inside of my wrist that slide open the armor that encase my hands, freeing them.
I want to ask why, but then I feel him, in the dark, sliding the palm of his hand over my palm and braiding his fingers through mine. My heart speeds up, and bursts of heat spread across my chest in rapid fire.
He’s holding my hand.
He’s holding my hand and pulling me forward, leading me through the secret corridor. Once again, I’m glad for the cover of blackness making him blind to the blush that lingers for far too long on my cheeks.
Deep inside the walls we travel through the maze of twists and turns. Smaller vents branch out from the narrow walkway, a vast network of ducts and swooshing walls that open and close with the press of a finger.
I get more lightheaded with each step.
Rune doesn’t let go of my hand until we reach the others, andhe doesn’t wipe his palms on something in disgust when he lets go.
Now I’m not just lightheaded, I’m dizzy.
Way too dizzy.
The space they’re in seems too small to contain us all and I suddenly feel the weight of walls crushing against my chest. Even the air seems different here. There’s either too much of it or not enough.
I can’t breathe.
I grab at my chest, clinking my armor—this stupid suit is too tight, too hot—I’m suffocating. I stumble against a wall. My throat is closed. Something blocks my airways. There’s an image that flashes in my mind—me as a little girl in a YMCA swimming pool. I’m not sure how old I am, but Claire is beside me wearing floaties on her arms. She’s bouncing on the surface of the water laughing as I dunk my head under and try to breathe through one of those toy scuba diving masks. One of the neighborhood boys jumped on top of me and stuck his finger in the tube and I couldn’t breathe. His weight pressed me down, and no matter how much I struggled I couldn’t find enough air.
It was a long time ago and the memory is fuzzy—but it’s the same feeling.
Pressure on my chest.
Sharp stabs of pain in my lungs.
I can’t catch my breath and my head spins wildly. Confusion and disorientation cloud my head.What the hell is happening to me?The grates in the floor come at me quickly.
“Kate!” Rune’s voice shouts as I slam into the floor.
“She needs to update. The armor needs to regulate the area for the correct amount of oxygen. Jex,” he says, tilting his head away from me. “We need to get her uploaded. Regulate the air. Hurry.”
Hard metal ridges press into my back. The faceplate is attached to my face and the sting of the metal pours through my skin. Flashes of light and sound stream past the view field.
“Once it regulates the space, she’ll be at optimal health.” It was Jex’s voice.
