Suddenly, a gunshot cracks out.
A scream leaves my mouth, and I pull myself from the sleeping bag, leaping to my feet…
…where I promptly fall, losing my balance in the chaos.
“Stay here!”
It’s Brennan – yelling his orders at me as he builds up to a full sprint. He barrels up the metal stairs, and suddenly I’m left alone.
What does it mean?
Another gunshot rings out. It’s a single shot, not from an automatic. If my father hired mercenaries, they’d almost certainly be equipped with fully-automatic slug guns and repeating las-cannons – not single shot rifles or pistols.
That means the gunshots don’t signify a rescue.
But they might signify my best and only chance to get away.
I have to act now – because I might never get another moment alone and unrestrained. I grab the duffel bag by the straps, dragging it behind me. I’m short of breath as I push it beneath the narrow windows on the opposite wall of the basement.
Then, I run back and grab a second duffel bag from where Otho threw it, down near the entrance. Otho slung it like it was virtually weightless – full of feathers. To me, though, it feels as heavy as if it’s full of rocks. I’m panting and sweating by the time I drag the second duffel bag to the windows. It takes all my effort to heave it on top of the first.
I take a second to catch my breath, glancing nervously at the stairway entrance. It’s not an option to run up – not unless I want to run into Brennan, or wade into the middle of a firefight.
Equally, I can’t stay here. They could be back at any second.
Breathlessly, I clamber onto the duffel bags, balancing as the contents shift beneath my feet.
I take a huge breath and leap up – catching the bottom of the windowsill with my fingertips.
It takes all my strength, but I scramble up the wall, tensing my arms and lifting my head to peek over the edge of the window and into the outside world.
For a moment, I catch a glimpse of moonlit dirt…
…and then my fingers give out.
My knee scrapes against the wall and I feel a sharp, sudden pain in my thigh as my dress rips against a jagged piece of iron. Pain flares up into me, and my adrenaline surges.
“Ow! Ow, ow!” I force back the pain.
On the bags again, I bend and tense my legs – squatting, and readying myself to jump.
A moment before I do, another gunshot rings out like thunder. That means I don’t have long. I jump with all my strength, my injured leg burning in pain. I feel hot blood dripping down my thigh as I catch the bottom of the smashed windowsill.
Shards of glass dig into my hand as I kick with my feet, finding a desperate foothold on the same jagged piece of iron that just opened up my thigh. I push myself up on it, squirming and struggling until I can hoist myself through the window.
Suddenly, I’m outside. I clamber to my feet, wincing as my thigh screams in agony.
The stars twinkle above, and the planet’s faint, bright moon glows overhead – as if watching me from the heavens above. Running on adrenaline, I sprint forward – towards the lights of the city center.
The moon rises high above the abandoned buildings and old factories, and lights my path as I run through the rubble and debris.
Within minutes, my leg gives out, and I tumble. As I land on the floor, I look down at my ripped-open dress. Beneath the fabric, the cut in my thigh appears much worse than I’d thought it was. Blood is streaming out of me. I clasp my hand to the wound and hobble to my feet, pressing my palm against the bloody gouge as I limp and stagger into the night, as fast as I can.
I have a long walk ahead of me – two hours on foot, and that’s if I had both feet.
But I don’t – and the moment I acknowledge that, my leg gives out beneath me.
I slump to the rocks and debris. My heart is pounding through my ears.
“Stop!”
Brennan’s voice rings out across the emptiness. I turn my head, and I wish I hadn’t.
The light of the moon illuminates the warrior.
Brennan is just covered in blood – and the most horrific part of it is that it’s not his.
The alien warrior used to look fierce – proud and magnificent. Now, though, he looks bestial – a demon, born from the depths of hell; and coming to grab me and drag me back down there with him.
I clamber to my feet and break into a sprint, ignoring the pain screaming in my thigh. Brennan told me once not to try to escape – and he warned me what would happen if I tried.
Right now, the way he looks – dripping in blood – I can’t even imagine surviving the enraged alien’s wrath; and I don’t want to find out whether I would or not.
I murmur a prayer to the Gods as I stagger through the rubble – pleading that some ship sent by my father spots me…
…but nothing remains above me. Nothing but an empty sky.
Then, he has me.
Brennan grabs me and scoops me up like I weigh nothing. He grunts as he tosses me effortlessly over his shoulder. Then, he sprints – racing deftly and sure-footedly across the rubble and debris with me clinging to the back of him.
Within seconds, we’re back to the hiding place. It takes him just seconds to cover the ground it took me agonizing minutes to escape from. As he runs, maintaining a breakneck pace, I see Otho appear from the shadows, too. He’s dragging a body.
It’s a thug – some common criminal, like the ones often found in the empty wastelands of the former industrial sector.
A thug whose arm is still clutching a long rifle.
Only, the arm isn’t attached to his body. I
