Helen knelt beside the woman and grabbed a corner of the bedsheet near her feet. “Gravity’s only getting worse, and she’s going to have to be up higher, or we’ll never make it around these boxes.”
I grabbed the other corner, and together, we lifted the woman. She lurched forward, and I realized that she’d lost consciousness.
“She has a pulse,” her husband said, seeing the look on my face.
I returned his gaze without slowing down. “We won’t leave you,” I told him, trying to sound steady. The stairwell was twenty yards away, then ten.
We’d barely crowded onto the first platform of stairs when the ship lurched heavily, and gravity failed once again. The man at the other end of the bedsheet wrapped a protective arm around the woman. Nodding at us, he looped his other arm around her lower neck and armpit, like a lifeguard, and began “swimming” up the stairs with her.
Gravity swung us down again, and my stomach found its way to my chest. I gripped the nearest rail, white-knuckled, until it evened out. By the time I’d nearly recovered, I bumped into a solid figure at my feet. Judge Hawthorne was crouched on the ground, arms tight across her chest, thin glasses slightly askew. “I can’t. I can’t do this,” she said feebly.
Helen appeared at my side. “You don’t have a choice, Judge. Get up. Let’s go.”
“One big jump and we’re there,” I said.
“No. I can’t jump. Gravity could pick back up.” Her voice had thinned out, like she was trying not to whine.
Another passenger stepped over Hawthorne. “If we’re lucky, it will.” She flipped herself over the banister and jump-floated up through the center of the stairwell. “Last one there’s a rotten peach,” she called back to us.
“You go on without me,” Hawthorne said. “I did what I came to do.”
I stared at her, trying to decide whether to force her or leave her. I took perhaps a second too long. Another inmate jumped, and Hawthorne stifled a scream.
“It’s the Lightness,” I muttered.
“Oh, brilliant diagnosis,” said Helen. Her expression mirrored my own. I had the impression that neither of us was particularly fired up about staying behind to die with the judge who’d locked us up. “And so helpful. You get her other arm.”
“No! Stop it. Just go,” said Hawthorne, curling herself tighter.
Helen knelt next to Hawthorne and took hold of Hawthorne’s wrist. She moved slowly, with surprising gentleness, in spite of the iron in her voice. “How about this. You put your arms around my neck. Just like that. You can keep your eyes closed.” Helen put her foot over the rail and set her mouth in a line. “Ugh. Here goes.”
She jumped, grabbing at the rail at Level Six. She was hardly frail enough to miss on her own, but the weight of the judge must have made her miscalculate, and they swung up too far. The ship jerked again, disorienting me, but gravity remained near zero, as far as I could tell.
I jumped, slamming into the rail in mid-air, and scrambled over onto the platform. I’d misjudged the gravity. It was definitely stronger than I realized, or else it had begun to regenerate. I hooked my feet into the bars of the rail and leaned way over, grabbing frantically at Helen’s shoulder and Hawthorne’s drapey robes.
They tipped over the rail and landed in an unsteady heap. Hawthorne stood, regaining her balance, and spared a moment to straighten her clothes, a prim expression on her face.
“That wasn’t so bad,” she said. Then, clearing her throat, she looked at Helen. “Thank you.”
They looked at me expectantly. “Uh, this way to the seal, everyone,” I said.
Gravity built steadily as we made our way down the hall. We rounded a corner to find the man and the pregnant woman. As gravity returned, so did his struggle to move his wife. Helen and I ducked wordlessly as we reached them, grabbing the same corners of the sheet as before, and everyone kept moving.
We weren’t nearly as fast as those around us, some of whom rushed by with heavy-looking boxes, but in time, we reached the seal.
“Oh, no,” Helen breathed when she saw it. She set her end of the bedsheet on the ground and elbowed her way to the front of the small crowd that had gathered. I heard her curse from several feet back, and I couldn’t blame her for it.
The seal was nearly shut.
Thirty-nine
“Okay. Everyone stand back.” I was surprised at how strong my voice sounded. A couple of people actually shuffled backward a couple inches. I pushed my way to the front of the crowd. “No, seriously. Stand back,” I said.
“I recognize her,” said a voice in the crowd. “She’s that traitor. The one who took the judge hostage.”
Several people started talking at once. “Should we arrest her?”
“I just saw her carrying a woman. Doesn’t seem like a terrorist to me.”
I rolled my eyes. “Oh, for Pete’s sake, people. We can talk about this later. Stand back, or else.” I pulled the gun from my pants.
They stood back.
“No need to get violent, there.”
“There’s enough of us here to take the gun from her,” said a man I’d seen carrying a suitcase. “We’re all goners anyway.”
Before the crowd could decide whether I was a worthy target of their limited time and misplaced heroism, I turned my back to them and fired several rounds at the edge of the seal.
Nothing happened.
“Guns don’t affect the ship,” I said through clenched teeth to no one in particular. The sharp glow of the soldering torch on the other side of the seal blocked my view through the remaining hole.
So I shot the torch.
The soldering stopped. The seal was still cracked a few inches, and there was a hissing sound as oxygen sucked out of the healthy part of the ship and into Sector Eight. I put the gun under my bad arm and slid my good hand into the crack. I pulled as hard as I could, but the seal didn’t budge. Some of the now-exposed wiring popped loudly, and I jumped back.
The faces of the people behind me were as angry as ever, but by now, their rage was directed toward the seal. I stepped aside, and a few of the stronger-looking crowd members shouldered their way to the front.
“Okay, pull, everyone. We can do this.”
“On three,” said one, and the others nodded. “One, two, three, urgh—”
Whoever was on the other side had resumed soldering.
“Fire again,” someone said, and I was happy to oblige, aiming only at the equipment on the other side of the widening hole.
There was another round of pulling, and the seal slid to the side, revealing two soldiers with soldering torches and the Commander, who stood to one side.
“Charlotte Turner. You are an exceptionally stubborn young lady.”
I leaped across the border and glared at him. I wasn’t going anywhere until I knew everyone was safe, so I pressed myself into the side of the hallway as the crowd rushed past.
“Again, that’s Mrs. Everest to you.”
He paled slightly, and I saw him step aside, almost without thinking, as the pregnant woman’s husband lowered her gently through the gap. But his scowl returned almost instantly once they had passed.
“People are going to die because of this,” he growled at me, then turned to the soldiers. “Get out your stunners. Replace the seal immediately.”
The guards moved to block the path out of Sector Seven.
“No!” I shouted. “Let them through!” I looked down at my gun, which I’d kept pointed at the floor, and raised it toward the nearest soldier. I felt stuck in a bad dream, unable to stop myself from doing what I dreaded most.
I aimed the gun squarely at the Commander’s face. “Stand back,” I shouted at the soldiers. “Let everyone pass, or he dies.” I flicked my thumb past the hammer, allowing it to cock more loudly than necessary, and the soldiers took several steps away.
The crowd seemed to move in slow motion. I knew they were rushing, but every second the seal remained open raised our chances of dying to dizzy
ing heights.
“Three hundred thousand,” whispered the Commander. “That’s how many human beings will be alive tomorrow, because of you. We have to seal the gap.”
“I can’t watch anyone else die. I’m sick of it.”
“After tonight, you won’t have to,” he said, and a chill ran straight through my body.
I was so tired. I ran an arm over my brow, wiping my face on my sleeve. It was a stupid move.
It was all the Commander needed.
A second later, he slammed into me, knocking my wrist into the wall. The rest of my body followed, but not before he’d delivered a crippling blow to my stomach. The gun clattered to the ground, and I crumpled to my knees.
I couldn’t move, but I knew without looking that the Commander had regained possession of the gun and was aiming it squarely at my head.
“Close the seal. Now.”
This time, the soldiers leapt to comply. There were hysterical screams of protest from the other side, and I realized that people must still be arriving.
“You’re making a mistake,” I wheezed. I had to pull myself up, but it hurt to breathe. Gravity was increasing steadily, and the air was getting much thinner. I pressed a palm into the wall, then stood.
But the Commander was no longer looking at me. An emaciated arm shoved into his shoulder, moving him out of the way, and Judge Hawthorne slid into the middle of the seal. Turning her back on the Commander, she reached over to help the next person through the opening. She turned back only once the husband began pulling his wife out of the way of the next person.
They couldn’t have guessed what the Commander was capable of.
As soon as Hawthorne was through the seal, the Commander fired a shot directly into the next person’s chest.
Helen.
Behind us, Hawthorne’s shriek reverberated through the dying sector and across the seal.
Helen slumped forward through the gap, and I realized that the judge was still trying to move her to safety.
“No! Judge Hawthorne! Stay back!”
The second shot was somehow worse than the first.
The judge slid to the ground in a heap, followed by Helen’s lifeless body.
I gasped.
But the Commander’s face showed nothing. “The seal. Now.”
Again, the soldiers moved forward, soldering guns in hand. They were obliged to move the bodies out of their way, and I heard myself whimper. “Please. Please no.”
The Commander pressed the gun into my forehead, and my mouth went dry. I knew he wouldn’t waste another opportunity to kill me. He cocked the hammer, and I looked at his face. It was pure malice.
He pulled the trigger.
Nothing happened.
Well, nothing other than an impotent little click.
He pulled the trigger a few more times before swinging the gun at my head. I ducked, and he shoved me back into the wall. “The ring. Give me back the ring.”
I grunted, finding it hard to breathe, and pulled the ring off my finger. No sooner had he snatched it away than his leathery hands found my throat, pressing me back into the wall with a thumb to my trachea. I played the only card I had left.
“He’s out there! Eren’s in the Remnant.”
“You’re lying. My son is in a safe place.”
“You mean lockup? Not anymore, he’s not.”
The Commander looked back toward the seal. It was partly open and closing steadily. The only faces in the remaining crowd were strangers. The seal inched closer to the wall as the world faded to black. It was two feet away from the wall, then one. It was six inches away. I closed my eyes.
Then I heard the sweetest possible sound.
“Charlotte!” Eren shouted. “Charlotte, where are you?”
My eyes flew open, but I couldn’t speak.
“Eren?” The Commander looked up. “Open the seal! Open it further!”
I hit the floor, but it was another moment before I could breathe.
“Come through, son.”
“I can’t. Not until everyone else gets through.” Eren shoved the nearest person through the crack, then the next. A young girl flitted past, and I smiled dumbly, thinking of Amiel.
The Commander shouted over the heads of those escaping. “Can’t do what, exactly? Survive? Lead your people? Which is it?”
I was gasping, sucking in air as hard as I could. Thanks to the broken seal, that was actually pretty hard to do. Oxygen was officially at a premium, and there were at least five more people still stuck in Sector Seven, Eren among them.
My view shifted abruptly, and I realized that the Commander was lifting me. He had one arm was around my chest, holding me up, and the other gripped me under the jaw.
When the Commander spoke again, his voice was tender, surprising me. “Please, son. Come through.”
Eren took in my position, seeing his father’s forearm pressing into my chin, and his face sank into utter disbelief. “Dad. What are you—?”
At his hesitation, the Commander changed tactics once again, bracing his grip with a forearm to the back of my neck. “I am done with these games, son. Come through the seal, or she dies.”
That was checkmate. I could see it on Eren’s face.
Reluctantly, he stepped through the seal. “Now let her go.”
The Commander released me, and Eren turned back to the seal to help another person through the crack.
I saw the Commander’s stunner move, but Eren never did. There was a loud crack, and Eren fell to one side. Two more people pushed their way through, leaving one, a smallish woman who had to be close to forty. The Commander lurched forward to push the seal into place, and she moved back, afraid of him.
Behind him, I climbed to my feet, and did the only thing I could: I shoved myself into the Commander’s back. He fell forward into the gap, and his face hit the exposed wiring of the panel, where I’d blasted it apart.
There was a horrible, rapid thudding noise, and the Commander let out a sickening shriek. Frantic, I reached over him to help the last person through the seal. I was careful not to touch the Commander before I realized why.
“He’s being electrocuted,” I said numbly.
“What?” Eren looked up from the ground, where he was just regaining consciousness, and his jaw went slack. “Quick! Grab the other shoe. Don’t touch his skin.”
We each grabbed a combat boot and yanked the Commander back out of the seal, which slid into place. When his face hit the floor, it bounced up a little, as though his neck were made of rubber.
“Solder!” Eren shouted at the shell-shocked soldiers. “Now!”
We turned toward the Commander, who was face down and not moving.
“Oh,” I said softly. “Eren.”
Eren crouched, as though afraid to touch his father, then grabbed a limp shoulder and pulled the Commander onto his back.
I screamed. It would have been a lot louder, too, if I’d had any oxygen left.
His face was totally disfigured. The wires had burned deeply into his skin, leaving a grotesque map of tiny trails and burned blood.
“Dad? DAD!” Eren made an odd sound. “He’s not breathing.” He looked at me, stricken. “Help me.”
I reached for the Commander’s neck and tried to find a pulse. I shook my head, unsure of what to say.
“I don’t… I can’t…” Eren looked from me to his father in disbelief. “Dad,” he said again, reaching for his father’s hand. It went limp, relaxing the fist it held tightly only moments earlier.
His mother’s ring dropped to the floor between us.
“Eren. I’m so…” The words sounded hollow, so I closed my lips. Eren stared at the ring, as though he didn’t recognize it, or want to. Then he picked it up and shoved it deep into his pocket.
Then he held his father’s hand again.
I couldn’t think of what to do next. I couldn’t think of anything, actually, so we just sat there, not touching, waiting for the air to come back.
&nbs
p; Forty
I don’t know how long we waited.
I barely felt afraid. I barely felt anything at all, except the pain in my arm and the exhaustion deep in my bones.
The comm crackled to life once again, but this time, the signal was so clear, I had to wonder if it was coming from a speaker at all. “CITIZENS OF THE NORTH AMERICAN ARK. This is your Captain speaking.”
Eren looked up from his father’s body. “Who is that?” he asked me. I shook my head, bewildered.
The voice continued. It was deep and strong. “The Ark has sustained critical damage, and we’ve lost all defensive nuclear support. And yet, all hope is not lost. I have assumed command of operations until such time as we arrive on Eirenea. I have obtained the assurance of the Asian Ark that they will forbear to fire on us again. Furthermore, I have installed a new life-support program on the Ark’s mainframe. It will take effect shortly.”
I swallowed, suppressing a rising feeling of panic. “There’s only one person who could have accomplished all of that.”
“Adam?” Eren’s mouth hung slightly open in disbelief. “I thought you said he was a kid? He couldn’t have.”
“He could change his voice on the intercom. It would be nothing to him.”
“We have to stop him!” Eren took my hand. “Get up! We have to find him.” He turned back to the soldiers.
“To the citizens of the Remnant: there is no Remnant. Not anymore. You will be assimilated into the main levels of Central Command in accordance with your forgoing allegiance thereto.
“To the current subleadership of Central Command: there is no reason to fear for your life. Your cooperation will ensure your continued placement on board the Ark.
“To everyone else: the new system will take a moment to reboot. You should feel its effects shortly.”
“Charlotte. We have to stop him.”
“He’s not the kind of guy you just waltz in and ask for his badge back.”
“We have to try. He’s got to be sending that signal from IntraArk Comm Con,” Eren said. “Come on. We’ll catch him”
If I’d had the strength to think, I’d have known we were making a mistake. But I didn’t, so I followed Eren down the corridor, struggling with every step.
The Remnant Page 23