Brice was a nothing, to the storm and to the creatures. And that meant he could slip through the cracks. That meant he had the advantage.
Up ahead, off to the left, Brice saw a flickering light through the moving trees. Then the area directly ahead began to glow, and the roar in the night sky changed into an angry whine.
Brice knew that sound. Usually, it was muffled, because he was inside. But when he connected to external sensors, this was the sound he heard—the deep whine of engines as a Proteus descended.
And he knew where the light came from.
With a cry, and a jump—an honest-to-goodness jump—for joy, he sprang forward, slashing his way to salvation.
Ryann pulled her body close to the metal rungs. It made climbing awkward, but she had to leave room for Cathal. The emergency hatch wasn’t designed for more than one person at a time.
Keelin had helped her bind Cathal to her back, just as she had done for Brice. His legs against her thighs felt strangely intimate, almost inappropriate, but they held him in place, and Ryann understood why Brice had wanted Cathal bound so tightly. Even his head at her shoulder—again, an intimacy that unsettled her—was practical.
At the top of the ladder, she spun the plate and pushed open the hatch. Water cascaded down, running into the hold-out and over her body. It dripped down her neck, running off Cathal’s covered head. But it did nothing to wash away the stench.
Easing herself through the hatch felt to Ryann like a rebirth, from the concrete tomb to the welcoming embrace of nature, from the dark to the light. And it was light out here. The lantern attached to the relay bathed everything in wonderful sol.
The forest was alive. She could sense it as much as see it. The trees teemed with creatures, on the ground and higher up. They stayed back from the light, but only just. And when she pushed, Ryann sensed a cold desperation of purpose that drew them together.
“It’s good to be out,” Keelin said as she came through the hatch, and Ryann had to agree with her, despite the creatures. Keelin looked up, straining her eyes to see the dark beyond the light, and Ryan followed her gaze, into the wide expanse of storm-clouds that cloaked the night sky.
Rain stung her eyes, and she blinked. But the moisture felt so invigorating.
“There!” Keelin pointed, and Ryann saw the glow in the clouds, and heard the growl of the Proteus’ engines as the craft swung into view. It twisted in the storm, but slowly. Not cutting through the air, but riding it, forcing it into submission. And the air obeyed, buoying the shining object up, brushing the tree-tops and bending them with its down-draft.
<We’ve got visual, Nyle. Bring her down. I’ll tell you when to open the hatch.>
<Sure thing. Your beacon works well. Thanks.>
Ryann smiled at that.
The Proteus came closer. Ryann pulled up filters to guard against the glare from the four arcs, over the main hatch. Nyle had them angled to cover as wide an area as possible, and Ryann wondered if this was his idea or Keelin’s.
Under the craft, landing lights blazed with the same yellow luminosity. The beams blasted into the trees, and branches thrashed wildly. Shadows run, and Ryann knew not all the movement was from down-draft.
The craft hovered over the landing pad. It spun, bringing the hatch side to face the ramp, and then it lowered. The light sunk beneath the trees.
“Come on,” Ryann said, one hand on Keelin’s shoulder. They jogged to the edge of the roof and strafed the treeline with their torches. Ryann saw movement and sensed…not panic, but uneasiness. Uncertainty.
“I’ll go first,” Keelin said, already lowering herself over the edge. She dropped, grunting as she landed on bended knees. After a glance up and a nod, Keelin stepped forward and aimed her beams at the trees.
Ryann let her torches dangle from her wrists as she sat on the edge as best she could, Cathal’s bulk forcing her body into strange positions. She reached round, hands planted firmly, and then she twisted her body, clenching her arm muscles and pushing her boots into the concrete walls. Her weight spun lazily, and she had time to check the momentum, placing one boot wide to stop herself spinning too far.
She lowered herself until her arms were at full stretch, the toes of her boots flat on the wall, and the weight on her back pulling for the ground. Then she pushed with her feet and lifted her hands.
She hit the ground, and a bolt of pain erupted in her ankle. She threw her hands forward, and they scraped down the wet metal of the door, but they didn’t stop her body tipping forward. They didn’t prevent her crashing to the mud.
“Ryann!”
Torch-light shone in Ryann’s face. “Watch the trees!” she said with a grimace, and Keelin turned the torch away.
<You okay?> the girl sussed.
<Fine.> And then Ryann twisted her body, ignoring the pain in her left leg. She reached out with one hand, used the door to steady herself, and stood. On her right foot.
Ahead was the ramp, and above that, on the landing pad, sat the Proteus. Its lights shone bright, but there were still shadows, and in the darkness Ryann saw shapes. They unfolded in the protection the landing pad offered.
“Keelin, we need to keep those things away from the ramp.”
“On it.” Keelin angled her shaking beams, and the creatures ran as their shadows burnt up, leaving an angry hiss in their wake. Then Keelin spun slowly, her feet shuffling and her arms waved wildly, covering as much of the treeline as possible.
Maybe, Ryann thought,
