My vision’s going black, my throat spasming at the lack of air.
I dig my fingertips in and wrench off the access panel, reaching inside to grab a handful of wires. Then I yank them free and jam them against Nico’s chest.
In a shower of sparks he goes flying backward, crashing into the wall opposite. The lights flicker and go out, plunging us into darkness, and I shove myself at where I think the door was – already there are flames leaping to life where the sparks fell on the bedding.
I ricochet off the frame and stumble out into the hallway, where the emergency lights flicker once and then die.
Nico’s somewhere behind me, roaring a curse, so still alive, I guess.
I start sprinting toward the one source of light I can see, a glow around the corner. I need a new hiding place before Nico gets back onto his feet.
I pound down the hallway, swinging around a corner to find an intersection lit by one failing overhead light.
I’ve been here before. I’m by a familiar stack of crates, with the signs pointing at all the different settlements nearby. Suddenly the numbers feel impossibly large.
Cleo, run!
I duck down behind the boxes as Nico’s footsteps sound behind me, trying to keep my ragged breathing as soft as I can. He stumbles into the intersection thirty seconds later, looking as furious as … well, as a guy who just got a bunch of live wires jammed into his ribs and was nearly set on fire in a high-oxygen atmosphere.
‘Where are you?’ he mutters, studying each hallway off the intersection in turn, as I stay crouched behind my boxes.
‘Nico!’ It’s Blue Braid, dressed in a pressure suit, with a helmet under one arm. ‘Rover, let’s go!’
Without another word he abandons the chase, turning to follow her toward the garages. She must have got one working again.
Cleo, RUN.
I need to get back to slowing my sister down. I pull up my display from my cuff again, readying myself to plunge back into the station systems and find something to break.
It takes me a moment to understand why the bright lights projected in front of me don’t look right.
The air’s hazy.
I get to my feet, staggering – my body’s hitting the point of exhaustion – and see a stream of smoke snaking its way down the hallway. There’s a faint glow visible at the next corner: the direction from which Nico and I came.
Oh, come on. I haven’t been through enough?
Above me, fire alarms start to wail mournfully, drawn out and weird, like their batteries are failing.Fire, fire, says a woman’s annoyingly calm voice, dipping and elongating as the power fluctuates.Fire, evacuate.
Okay, so that’s on me. And the oxygen levels are high enough now that everything around me could go up in a minute, which means it’s time to run again.
I push myself to a jog, hurrying through the dying station until I leave the fire warnings behind. I crouch in what looks like a classroom – it’s decorated with kids’ drawings and educational charts.
It’s also one of the few rooms that has a window port, so I can see the red dust storm outside through the circle of clear material. Maybe it’s supposed to be educational for the students, or maybe kids have a special right to sunlight, I don’t know.
I sit my tired self down beside the porthole and reach out for my sister on comms. I don’t even know what I’m going to say, but anything that distracts her will do.
‘So, Marguerite. Was this a cry for attention? Did you suggest this to Mom so she’d finally give you that favorite-child trophy?’
Don’t you dare, she snaps back, instantly angry in my ear.I trusted you. I invited you in.
‘To murder club!’ I sputter, pausing to lean against the porthole for a second. Maybe the dust is clearing – I caught a glimpse of the landscape for a moment, red dirt stretching away into the distance.
I pray Cleo’s still out there in a rover, racing for safety.
This is the frontier,Marguerite says in my ear.You have to take what’s yours.
My next words come before I know I’m going to speak them. ‘That was never what we believed.’
