Lourdes curls herself into a ball in the corner, away from us.
“What the hell,” I say as I get to my feet, breathless from panic and my race to reach them in time. “What are you doing?”
Standing, he scowls, but his eyes are not quite focusing on me. “Can’t you hear it? They just want to come in.”
Who?But I know better than to ask that. There’s no answer to that question in this situation that will make anything better, more understandable. “I don’t hear anything, Voller,” I say. “Just engine noise.” And staggering footsteps approaching that may or may not be Kane.
Claire.My name ripples on a wave of whispers behind me, including one I recognize, one that my mind says is my mother, though I haven’t heard her voice in twenty years.
Claire. No.
Those chill fingers brush over my cheek again, and goose bumps rise over my skin.
“You’re confused, but I can help you,” I say to Voller, edging closer. “Take my hand.” I have no idea if the pain trick that I used on Kane will work on Voller the same way with as far gone as he seems to be, but I have to try.
“No, no, no,” he says, shaking his head. “You just want me to stop. You don’t want to let them in. You’re afraid.”
“Voller, there’s no one out there to save,” Kane says from behind me. “It’s just us, and we die if you break the seal on that door.” He sounds steady, unshakable, but I don’t know how long that will last.
Uncertainty flickers on Voller’s expression for the first time. “My head just hurts,” he says. “And all the noise is making it worse.” He looks toward the door. “Cut it out!” he screams.
Lourdes emits a small whimper.
I take advantage of the moment and close the distance, reaching for his free hand. “Voller—”
But he turns just as I’m close enough and swings the butt end of the drill directly at my head even as I duck to try to avoid it.
I hear the crack, feel the impact of the hit connecting on the back right side of my skull, snapping my head up and to the left. Hard. But it doesn’t hurt. Not at first.
Stars dance and shine in my vision, a rapidly narrowing tunnel, as I fall.
Voller stares down at me, over the sounds of distant shouting. Kane? My mother? I can no longer tell.
His expression is inscrutable as he lifts the drill up, and I’m expecting him to crouch over me at any second and lay that plasma bit against my flesh and bone. I need to get up, to run, but my legs aren’t responding.
Instead, Voller grins at me, a crooked and tired version of his normal bluster, tips me a salute, and then, moving so fast it seems almost a blur, he presses the tip of the drill against his head.
I try to move, and pain from my head comes roaring into my consciousness. I think I scream as everything goes dark.
The last thing I register is the drip, drip, spatter of the blood hitting the floor, a warm tapping against my skin.
19
It’s my fault. Voller is dead and it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have, I knew I shouldn’t have…
“Just stay still, Claire,” Kane says, strain in his voice. “Don’t move, don’t try to talk.”
Did I say something out loud?I can’t tell. The agony in my head is such that I’m afraid to ask, to move my lips, to draw a deeper breath.
I detect the flickering of the lights, in the alternating patches of soothing darkness and painful brightness behind my eyelids. Beneath me, a hard surface. My left arm is trapped underneath something heavy. Someone heavy. Voller’s body.
“I know, I know,” Kane says under his breath. “I’m doing the best I can.” He pauses for a moment. “No, she won’t. I won’t let her.”
He is talking to someone who isn’t there.
“Kane?” Lourdes asks through her sniffles. “Is she going to be okay?”
“I don’t know,” he says. “I need…” He trails off seemingly mid-thought. “I need…”
