He must have been able to tell because he shook his head and sighed. “That’s about three thousand miles per hour.”
“WHAT?”
My alien partner shrugged, like that wasn’t at all incredible and absolutely horrifying. No big deal. Just another day at the space-races.
Reaching down, he grabbed a wide T-shaped handle covered in scratched-up yellow paint and gave it a stern yank. The engines barked and coughed to life, making our whole craft shake like we were sitting in a cardboard box on top of a washing machine.
God—someone—anyone, please help us.
All the wind rushed out of me again as my pulse roared so loud, I couldn’t hear anything else except the deep rumble of those engines.
I shut my eyes tightly, squeezing the metal box against my chest. No crying. No freaking out. Think—I had to think. And breathe. Breathing was good, too.
“Well, she runs, at least. That’s something,” he murmured. “Hey, what’s wrong with you? You better not throw up in here.”
Throw up? I was closer to having a complete freaking meltdown.
My throat burned. I couldn’t keep myself from shaking. Before I could stop it, my voice came out in a desperate, gasping sob. “You … You have a plan, right? You can figure out a way to save us, can’t you?”
He didn’t answer.
But he didn’t have to.
It wasn’t a matter of planning or tactics. We weren’t going to think or plan our way out of this.
It wasn’t survivable, plain and simple.
It was the Renegade Run … and we were both going to die.
9
START YOUR ENGINES
All around us, the massive ship carrying our little, would-be runner craft shuddered and shook violently. My stomach swirled like I was riding a roller coaster blindfolded. What the hell was going on out there? The motion might have sent our little ship tumbling around inside the hangar if not for the feet of our landing gear being clamped to the floor.
With a sudden, violent jolt, everything went still.
My breath caught. What now?
Beside me, my brawny partner let out a deep breath through clenched teeth. His brow locked into an intense frown that put a distinct wrinkle right between his dark eyebrows. With his shaggy, silver-streaked hair tucked behind one of his long, pointed ears, I got a great view of a throbbing vein standing out against the side of his neck. Was he as terrified as I was? Or thinking about his family? Did he even have one? Or someone who was missing him?
Not that he necessarily seemed like the “home by 5” kind of guy. We were about to be thrust into a gruesome demise together, and I didn’t know anything about him. I didn’t even know his name.
Whatever. It didn’t make much difference now anyway, right?
Besides, there wasn’t time to ask.
Before us, the hangar bay door was still slowly opening with a deafening hiss. The glare of an alien sun flooded the cockpit with growing force, as though every inch that door opened made the light more intense. I drew back in my seat, wincing and shielding my eyes.
But my would-be partner never looked away.
“Shit,” he spat as he leaned in closer. “Thermax.”
Therm-what? Before I could ask, his big hands began blurring over switches and buttons in the cramped cockpit, making our ragged little ship beep, shake, and flinch. A transparent second windshield slid down to cover the first one. Its glass was tinted darkly and scored in a few places, like it had been struck by rocks or debris. As soon as it was in place, the oppressive light from the sun dimmed back into a tolerable range.
Then I could see outside.
A panicked sound broke past my lips as I stared out over the sweeping, rugged landscape spread out before us. Jagged mountain peaks jutted up against an eerie, red-hued sky where one—no, two—massive orbs hung like silent giants. My god. Were those … planets? This close? One was decidedly bigger than the other, or maybe it was just closer. I couldn’t be sure, and now wasn’t the time to start grilling my companion. He obviously had his mind on other things.
Like survival.
The arid landscape reminded me of the deserts of California or Arizona, dotted with those abrupt, massive mountains and hauntingly empty of life. The horizon wavered with heat and the light of the swollen sun cast everything in a bizarre crimson glow. It made the hulls of the other runner ships glitter and glisten as they crowded together like a flock of metallic birds. There must have been hundreds, maybe even thousands of them.
My heart hit the back of my throat so hard, I choked as the enormous ship carrying us drifted smoothly to the back of the group, hovering only long enough to begin dumping dozens more runner crafts out into the lineup. Holy hell. How many trashers had Rout brought? Had they all been stolen off their homeworlds and sold like I had?
Suddenly, it was our turn.
I bit back a scream as the clamps holding our ship in place released with a CLANG. We were loose. My alien companion gripped that weird steering wheel and pushed it forward, muttering under his breath the whole time. We surged forward, leaving our carrier-ship behind as we rattled out of the cargo bay door. Sweat beaded on my forehead and rolled down my nose, cheeks, and neck. My heart beat wildly, pounding like mad against my ribs as we cruised to a halt in the throngs of other runner ships.
All around, more of those huge carrier ships continued to dump out more runner crafts while a storm of small, shimmering white orbs zoomed all around like flying pearls. Each one was roughly the size of a basketball with a shiny metallic surface and a single dark spot. What were those? How were they even flying?
Occasionally, one would stop, hover, or sharply change direction. A few passed near enough that I got a better look at them. I could
