I cling to the one thing I know: the mad thumping of my heart, a sign I’m still alive even if the ship is broken.
When I try to move, a bolt of pain shoots from my neck down my spine. It’s almost too much to bear.
You have to get up. I have to get off the hovercraft. The Mardenites who shot us down are still out there, and they could bomb us again. I have to make sure Fiona and the other rebels are alive and help them off the ship.
I take deep, steadying breaths and fumble to unbuckle my seat belt. The pain is worse when I stand up. But as long as I keep moving, keep focusing on what I have to do—save my friends—I can ignore it.
The air is thick with dust and smoke. Coughing, I step carefully, feeling my way through the darkness to make sure I won’t trip over anything on the floor. There’s a faint glow of light on the other side of the engine, a soft crackle of flames. Some of the electrical lines must’ve caught fire.
As I move closer to the light, I make out the shape of Fiona’s body slumped on the floor, amid the debris of the wrecked engine parts. She’s lying on her back, unmoving. When I call her name, she doesn’t respond.
I drop to my knees beside her. There’s a crack in her helmet and a dark stain of blood seeping from her forehead. A broken piece of machinery must’ve hit her head hard. Please, don’t be dead.
I feel for a pulse in her wrist. It’s faint, but still there.
The loud crackle of flames draws my attention back to the fire. It’s spreading along the broken electrical lines, moving steadily in the direction of the fuel tanks. I need to get both of us out of here before there’s another explosion.
There’s a chunk of rubble trapping the lower half of Fiona’s legs. I try to push it off her, but it doesn’t move an inch; it’s a lot heavier than I realized. I push and shove, gritting my teeth against the pain spreading through my body. But the machinery won’t budge.
The engine room’s growing hotter and thicker with smoke, and the flames are climbing higher, inching ever closer to the fuel tanks.
Fear sets adrenaline pumping through my body. I grab one of Fiona’s arms and heave it over my right shoulder. Then I slide my other arm under her torso and try to heave her out from beneath the debris. But it’s no use; her legs are completely stuck. I’m not strong enough to pull her out on my own.
I twist the dial at the base of my helmet, turning on my ear-comm. “Help! I’m in the engine room and I need help!”
There’s nothing but static in answer. There’s too much interference. I doubt anyone can hear me on the other end, and even if they could they wouldn’t get here fast enough. The flames are mere centimeters from the fuel tanks. Any second now, the whole room is going to explode.
Dean’s warning from earlier echoes through my head: Don’t worry about anyone else. Just save yourself.
There’s nothing more I can do for Fiona. I have to get out of here.
With one final, broken look at her, I turn and push through the exit door. I take the stairs two steps at a time, coughing from the smoke and choking back sobs because I can’t believe what I just did. I feel numb all over. But I can’t go back.
Five more steps.
Three more.
One more.
I reach the top of the stairs just in time—there’s a booming sound as the fuel tanks explode behind me. The floor lurches beneath my feet, and I trip forward, landing on my hands and knees. Dust and hard bits of rubble strike me from behind, from the door blasted open at the bottom of the staircase. Thankfully the engine room seems to have contained most of the damage.
I pause there on my knees, giving in to the weakness for a moment. Letting the reality of what just happened sink in.
Fiona is dead. I left her behind.
The sorrow consumes me, tearing me apart inside. Once again, I wasn’t strong enough. No matter what I do, I keep losing people who don’t deserve to be lost.
But there’s no time to dwell on my guilt over her death, or anyone’s. There’s an army of aliens outside and I still have to escape. There’s only time to keep moving.
On your feet, Clementine.
I push off the ground and pull myself through the door at the top of the staircase. The cargo bay is filled with the sounds of voices and boots pounding and people breathing heavily. The ship lights are out, but there’s some moonlight coming in through the open air-lock doors. People are making their way across the room, some of them leaning or limping on each other as if they’re hurt. Someone’s helping tend to those who were injured, while another person is passing out water canteens. The sky must be clear of raiders for the moment.
“Everyone, stay alert,” Dean says, somewhere on the other side of the bay. “Be ready to move when you’re given the order.”
I head toward the group, wiping away the blood still trickling from my left ear. It’s throbbing like crazy and I can’t hear much of anything out of it, which is lovely. But not my biggest concern at the moment. I need to make sure Beechy and the rest of my friends are all right. There are too many bodies and not enough light for me to make out faces.
“Clementine!” Beechy calls my name from somewhere behind me. I spin around and see him rushing out of the infirmary doors. He must’ve gone to check on Sandy first, as he should have.
When he reaches me, he grips my shoulders. “Are you okay?”
“I’m alive.”
“Where’s Fiona?”
There’s a suspended moment of silence, and then I force out the sentence: “She’s dead.” The words feel like rubber in my mouth. “The fuel tanks exploded and I couldn’t get her out.”
Pain bleeds through Beechy’s eyes.
“I had to leave her,” I say, my voice cracking. “I didn’t have a choice.”
He exhales a shaky breath and pulls me into his arms. “I’m sure you did everything you could. I’m just glad you’re okay.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, clinging to him and his warmth. Pretending he can make all the bad go away.
But he can’t. This war is far from over, and things are sure to get worse before the end. Somehow, we have to find a way to keep surviving.
I pull away from him just as a soldier runs into the hovercraft from outside. “Lieutenant, sir, the raiders are in sight,” he says in a rush.
There are gasps and panicked movements around the room.
I swallow hard. I knew the Mardenites would come looking for survivors, but part of me hoped they’d take longer to target us again. That we’d have more time to work out a way to escape them.
“How many?” Sam asks over by the air-lock doors. His dark figure is silhouetted by faint moonlight.
“At least ten ships.”
Ten raiders swarming us on the hillside, and they’ve already broken our hovercraft, our first line of defense. We could hole up here in the cargo bay and shut the air-lock doors, but the Mardenites would blast the ship apart and find a way inside.
“Skylar, you’re sure you can’t get us in the air again?” Dean asks.
“We’ve had major damage to the hull and the engine,” Skylar says. “I don’t think I can fix her.”
“What about the X-wings?”
“We’ve lost all contact with them. There’s a good chance they were also shot down.”
We have no working ships, no means of escaping the Mardenites. We have two choices: try to escape on foot, or fight them. And even if we do manage to escape or fight them off, how are we going to fly off the Surface?
“What are your orders, Lieutenant Sam?” Dean asks. There’s something spiteful in his tone. I’m sure he wishes he were the one in charge. I’m starting to wish that too—anyone would be better than Sam.
“We’re going to try to bring them down,” Sam says. “Everyone, move the missile guns outside and form defensive lines.” He looks around at all the soldiers frozen in terror. “Now.”
There’s a flurry of movement as everyone races to carry out his orders.
“But, sir,” Skylar says, “half our crew was aboard the X-wings. We’re completely outnumbered—”
“Our missiles are strong enough to bring down far bigger ships,” Sam says. “Now, get into formation outside. That’s an order, soldier.”
Skylar clenches her fists, but she doesn’t argue anymore. She hurries to help the other soldiers haul the missile guns out of the weapons locker.
This can’t be the smartest plan. The Mardenite raiders will have all the advantage from the sky. Even if we’re able to shoot some of them down, surely their firepower will be stronger.
“Listen,” Beechy says, grabbing my arm and pulling me away from the soldiers. “I want you to go with Dean.”
“Excuse me?”
“Go outside and pretend you’re following Sam’s orders, forming rank with everyone else. But as soon as you’re able, break away from them and take cover in the forest. Get as far from the hovercraft as you can until the battle’s over. Dean will help you get away.”
I glance over at Dean, who’s ushering the soldiers out the air-lock doors with their missile guns. “You really think he’s on our side?” I ask.
“I do,” Beechy says without hesitation.
My mind wanders back to the conversation I overheard him and Dean having in the infirmary earlier. Maybe they weren’t talking about Sandy. Maybe they were talking about me.
Whatever they think they’re doing, I’m grateful they’re trying to protect me. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to abandon any more of my friends. Especially not Beechy. “You’re coming with me,” I say.
“I’ll be right behind you, after I get Sandy out of the infirmary. She’s still in surgery, but Uma and the ship doctor are closing her up right now so we can move her.”
“I’ll stay here so I can help you.”
“No.” Beechy’s jaw is firmly set. “You need to get outside now and take cover before we’re under fire, if you can. Get to the trees and wait for me there.”
I shake my head. “I can’t.” I won’t leave him.
“You have to,” he says. “Then, if something goes wrong, at least you’ll be out of danger. Dean can help you get to the Pipeline. It’s only a few miles away, and there’s a transmission station there that should have an emergency transport. You can use it to get back to the Core, so you can rescue Logan.”
There’s a lurch of guilt in my stomach. Logan is depending on me to make it back to him. He would tell me I’m crazy for not immediately doing what Beechy wants and getting myself out of danger. I need to survive this, for him.
“But what about you, Beechy? I can’t lose you.”
“You won’t.” Beechy takes my hand and squeezes it. “I promise I’ll be right behind you.”
A tremor runs through the hovercraft, another explosive hitting the hull. There are shouts from outside, where most of the soldiers have gone. The Mardenites are firing at us again. If I’m going to make it to the forest before it’s too late, I have to leave now, with or without Beechy.
I gulp down the worry in my throat. “Hurry. Please.”
Beechy’s hard expression cracks a little, enough for me to know he’s even more scared he won’t make it than I am. “I will. I’ll see you soon.”
He drops my hand. I turn and race for the air-lock doors.