Avalon

CHAPTER 10

JETH HIT THE FLOOR AS A STREAM OF BULLETS SWEPT PAST him. For a moment he couldn’t think in the onrush of adrenaline.

Need to get out of here. He rolled sideways, off the walkway to the floor below, finding cover behind a storage crate. Shady landed beside him a second later. Then, each taking a side of the crate, they leaned around the edges and returned fire.

The Triton’s kickback pounded Jeth’s arm muscles with every shot, but he held his hand steady, kept his breath even, willing the calm and focus he needed to come over him.

“What’s going on?” Celeste’s alarmed voice echoed inside Jeth’s helmet, breaking his concentration. “Is somebody shooting?”

“Hold on,” Jeth said. He knew if he didn’t answer she would keep pestering him. But he couldn’t exactly give her a blow-by-blow account with bullets flying around him. They made loud, terrifying shrieks as they passed.

Then, without warning, the incoming bullets stopped. Jeth eased his hand on the trigger, motioning toward Shady to stop, too. Shady let off a couple more rounds, then ceased.

Jeth scanned the area beyond the crate for signs of the two armored figures or the little girl. His eardrums throbbed in the silence. Sweat ran down his neck and back. But he was oddly calm. At least a gunfight was within the realm of normal, something his brain could easily process.

“What do we do now?” Shady said.

“Hell if I know.”

A single gunshot erupted from behind a line of barrels across the way. Crack-whish-bang. The shot passed so close, Jeth felt it even through the thick padding of his space suit. Sudden outrage made his muscles clench. They’d come over here to help these people, and now they were trying to kill them.

He and Shady fired back once more, taking aim at the barrels near where the shot had come from.

The next moment, a loud, piercing wail filled the cargo bay. It was worse than any siren Jeth had ever heard. For a second he wondered if there was some ferocious animal on board, a massive beast powerful enough to have torn those holes in the walls.

Then he thought no more as pain shot through his skull from the sound. He lurched back behind the crate, almost dropping his gun as he instinctively covered his ears. Never mind that he couldn’t reach them through the helmet. The noise was inside him somehow, a living, vicious thing, hellbent on ripping him apart.

To his right, Shady looked to be in the same level of agony.

Desperate for the noise to stop but powerless to make it happen, Jeth squeezed his eyes closed. He needed to get away from it. He lowered himself to the ground, determined to crawl since he didn’t think he could stand.

On and on it went, getting louder. The dim lights in the cargo bay began to flicker as if they too were affected by the sound. The floor trembled, letting out a noise like warping metal. A buzz of electricity joined the chorus.

What’s happening?

The two shooters appeared around the corner of one of the containers in front of Jeth, both struggling to walk. They were as affected by the noise as he and Shady were. Jeth knew he should take cover, but his body was beyond his control.

The strangers dropped their guns to the floor.

As if in response, the noise began to die down and the panic in the room ended.

When silence finally came, Jeth exhaled in relief. His brain felt squishy inside his skull. He eased himself up to a standing position and faced the two strangers. It had to be some kind of trap. The sweat on his neck and back felt like flakes of ice.

“Are they surrendering?” Shady said from behind Jeth.

“I guess.”

“Can I shoot ’em?”

Tempting. . . . “Uh, no.”

Jeth took a tentative step forward, aiming his Triton. The two didn’t react, but stood still, hands at their sides. Jeth glanced around, suspicious of booby traps. To his left he spotted a toolbox and a pile of maintenance materials. Combined with their spacesuits, Jeth guessed the two shooters had been about to attempt some kind of repair to the outside of the ship when Avalon showed up.

He retuned his gaze to the strangers. Bending his elbow, he pointed the gun toward the ceiling. “We’re not looking for a fight,” he shouted. “Nod if you can hear me.”

Both did, and Jeth lowered his gun, pointing the barrel at the floor.

The shorter one raised his hands to his helmet and pulled it off. A mound of long blonde hair spilled out. Not a guy. A girl. Jeth mentally kicked himself for not realizing it before. She looked about his age, her face pale and a little too thin. Even still, he was struck by how pretty she was, her features delicate like porcelain, yet her expression fierce, like marble.

He caught himself staring and was glad when Celeste’s voice suddenly filled his ears. “What’s going on, Jeth?”

“We’re fine. We found the survivors.”

“Who are they? Why was there shooting? There was shooting, right?”

“Not now, Celeste.” Jeth pressed the button to terminate the link.

Across from him, the other shooter was pulling off his helmet. This one was a he, a guy with dark, spiky hair, as if he usually wore it shaved but had been growing it out. He looked young, too, not much older than Jeth.

Jeth examined the two of them, deciding that neither appeared diseased. That, combined with his faith in Avalon’s scanning equipment, was enough that he holstered the Triton, then pulled off his helmet. The frigid air bit his face, the smell of it rank, like something long dead.

“You sure you want to be doing that, Boss?” Shady asked, his voice muffled inside the helmet.

Jeth waved him off. “Who are you?”

“Who are you?” the blonde replied, her eyes narrowed on his face. She might have put down her gun, but Jeth got the feeling that surrender wasn’t in this girl’s vocabulary.

“My name’s Jeth Seagrave, and this is Will Shady.”

“I go by Shady,” Shady shouted, still refusing to remove his helmet. He also hadn’t lowered his gun.

Jeth reached over and pushed the barrel downward. The last thing he needed was for Shady to shoot one of them by accident. If that happened, whatever had made that noise might start up again. What had it been?

And where was the little girl?

As if on cue, the girl slid out from behind a row of nearby barrels and raced over to the blonde, grasping her hand.

The blonde stepped in front of the girl as if to shield her. “Did you say Jeth Seagrave?”

Jeth frowned. “Yeah, that’s right. What of it?”

She looked away from him, visibly nervous, as if she had made some kind of blunder. “Nothing. So who are you? Why are you here? You’re not ITA, that much is clear.”

“We’re . . .” Jeth didn’t know yet how much to share. When in doubt, lie quick and keep the conversation moving. “We were just passing by. And you are?”

She hesitated, then said, “Sierra Hightower, and this is Vince Mallory.”

Jeth nodded, glad to finally get a question answered even as a dozen more popped up to take its place. He chose the easiest one next. “And who’s she?” He inclined his head toward the little girl.

Sierra’s expression hardened as if Jeth had made a threat toward the girl rather than asked a perfectly reasonable question.

“I’m Cora,” the girl said, peering around Sierra’s side.

“Hello, Cora.” Jeth flashed an awkward smile at her. Talking to kids always made him feel inadequate, as if they spoke a language he didn’t quite understand.

Cora hid her face in Sierra’s side, demonstrating “a case of the shies” as Jeth’s mom used to call bashful behavior. He remembered Lizzie had been prone to the same thing. He wondered if Sierra and Cora were related, but the only resemblance he could see was their light-colored hair.

“So, not to be rude or nothing,” said Shady, shifting around nervously, “but what was making all that noise?”

Sierra looked away, her gaze roaming around the cargo bay even as she pulled Cora tighter against her side. “We don’t know. It’s been happening off and on for a while now.”

“How—” Jeth began.

Sierra cut him off. “What are you doing on our ship?”

Jeth frowned at the command in her voice. That was a pretty reckless attitude considering the position she was in. Feisty. He kind of liked it. Of course, he would’ve felt a lot differently if it had come from her big-muscled companion. The realization annoyed him, and he glared at her, remembering the unfriendly greeting moments before.

“We came to rescue you, but we weren’t expecting to get shot at.” He paused. “Why did you shoot at us?”

Sierra returned his glower. “Have you seen this place? What did you think we were going to do when you appear out of nowhere, carrying guns? And you didn’t stop when we told you to.”

Beside Sierra, Vince straightened up to his full height. The gesture spoke volumes to Jeth about the nature of their relationship. If anybody threatened Sierra, Vince would take care of it. Simple as that. Jeth wondered if they were together, like a couple. Surely they couldn’t be related. They looked nothing alike, plus the different last names.

Jeth took a deep a breath. He supposed she had a point about the guns. Not to mention plenty of reasons to be on edge, stranded here. He glanced away from her, sweeping his gaze over the holes scattered around the cargo bay. He was glad to see none of them contained body parts. “So, what did all this exactly?”

Sierra bit her lower lip and shivered.

Vince cleared his throat. Then in a smooth, deep voice that made him seem much older than he looked, he said, “We don’t know that either. We got lost in the Belgrave, and then a few days later those holes just started tearing their way through the ship. Then some of the crew started disappearing, too. Just vanishing.”

Sierra nodded, her mouth drawn into a thin, frightened line. “It was complete chaos.”

“Whoa,” Shady said. “So the stories about the Belgrave are true.”

“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” said Jeth, even as he remembered Celeste’s story about her mother.

“What else could’ve done what we’ve seen?”

Ignoring Shady, Jeth said, “So how did you three manage to survive?”

“We got lucky,” said Vince.

“Yes,” added Sierra. “Some of the others would’ve survived, too, but in the panic they started firing and killing one another. We barricaded ourselves in one of the passenger cabins and rode it out.”

Puzzled, Jeth examined the three of them as a group, wondering what connected them. “What are you all doing aboard a transport like this? You don’t look old enough to be crew members.”

Vince folded his arms. “You’re one to talk about looking old enough.”

Sierra cast Vince a warning look. “We were just hitching a ride.”

Jeth raised an eyebrow. “Marlins aren’t generally used to transport passengers.”

Sierra pressed her lips together, looking as if she were struggling not to give him a tongue-lashing. Perversely, it made him want to smile. “This one is,” she said. “Or at least it was, if the captain felt the price was right.”

Aha, Jeth thought. So this is a smuggler’s ship. That made sense. He wondered how anybody his age could afford to hire passage on a smuggler’s ship, but he didn’t think it important enough to ask at the moment, not with other questions pressing their way forward. What did matter was that as passengers on this ship, they might know a thing or two about the rest of its cargo.

“We heard a rumor about a ship like this that was transporting some kind of special weapon. Know anything about that?”

Sierra shook her head. “The Donerail was carrying lots of illegal goods, as far as we could tell, but the captain and crew kept a tight lid on that stuff and we didn’t go poking around.”

Cora sneezed, drawing everyone’s attention. Jeth had half forgotten she was there.

“Listen,” Sierra said, sounding annoyed once more. “I know you’ve got questions and so do we. But we’ve been stranded for almost two weeks. The metadrive is completely blown and we’re out of fuel and food and almost out of water. Any chance we can get on with the rescuing you mentioned?”

Jeth winced, suddenly feeling guilty. He couldn’t imagine what they must’ve gone through, and Cora was just a kid. He started to nod then frowned as something occurred to him. “You say you’ve been here two weeks?”

“Yeah, that’s right,” said Vince.

“But this ship’s been missing two months.”

Sierra swallowed. “That’s . . . that’s impossible.”

No more than a dead man trapped inside a wall, Jeth thought. A shiver skidded down his spine. “Maybe, but it’s true.”

She and Vince exchanged bewildered looks.

Jeth could tell it was news to them, that somehow they had been completely unaware of how long they’d been missing. Celeste’s story didn’t seem so farfetched anymore. He wondered how many other crazy stories about this place were true. Seems we’ve got our own to tell now.

Jeth shook off the thought and said, “Okay, we can finish talking later.” He motioned toward Shady. “Let’s get out of here.”