At the very last second, Okwembu turns her head sideways.
Not fast enough.
It’s like a million needles, driving into her eyes and throat. She howls in pain, her hands flying to her face, dropping the metal support. The needles give way to a rolling wall of fire, stinging and burning, like a blowtorch held to her face.
And yet a part of her mind is still working. Hale might be down, but Okwembu isn’t her equal in a fight–and Hale just took away her ability to see. She can feel the pole resting against her foot, but reaching for it would mean taking her hands away from her face, and that’s almost too horrible to think about.
Get out. Get out now.
She hates herself for running, for leaving Hale where she is. But she doesn’t have a choice, not if she wants to live. She turns and runs, stumbling across the bridge. Something takes her in the knee, the edge of a bank of screens, and she almost falls. The pain has got even worse–her throat is swelling up, her nose clogged. Every breath feels like she’s forcing it through layers of gauze.
Her foot knocks into a body, and this time she does fall, sprawling across the floor. To get to her feet, she has to take her hands away from her eyes–it’s the only way. When she does, the needles come back, hammering through her skull directly into her brain. The pain blots out all other thoughts. She’s reduced to a simple set of instructions. Go. Run. Move.
Tears are streaming down her cheeks, and the world doubles and triples as she looks at it. She is at the opposite side of the bridge to where she first waited for Hale, coming up on one of the locked doors. She reaches for it, manages to get her hands around the valve lock, turns it with every ounce of strength she can muster. She’s coughing now, each breath shredding her chest.
But then she’s through, stumbling down the passage, moving with no thought but to get as far away as possible. A set of stairs appears in front of her, and she comes very close to falling right over the edge. She stops herself, gripping the railings, swaying in place.
One step. Two. Her throat still burning, but opening up a little more now, yes, she can feel it…
There’s a distant thud, like a mountain collapsing on the horizon, felt more than heard. Okwembu barely notices it until the ship lurches sideways, tilting down at a crazy angle. She cries out as she loses her balance, throwing out her hands. The stairs rush up towards her, doubled by the tears in her eyes. When she hits them, it feels like the end of the world.