by Jamie Zakian
***
Sabrina slowed her rushed steps as she neared the end of a quiet, empty corridor. She removed her stun gun, creeping toward a sharp bend. After a quick glance to Reyes, who looked ready to throw-down, she peeked around the corner.
A bad guy didn’t jump out. Winslow wasn’t taking a nap in a corner. It was just a big, round window with a silver briefcase on its ledge.
“Is that another bomb?” Reyes asked, peeking over her shoulder.
She holstered her stun gun and inched closer. “It’s too small to be Winslow, unless …” She glanced at Reyes, his unease rivaling her own. “Your explosives detectors are online, right?”
“Yeah.” Reyes pulled out his handheld, tapping the screen. “The ship’s clear, but the sensors didn’t pick up the last one so … I don’t know.”
“Great.” She fished a little black box from her vest, then edged toward the case. Stars streaked by outside the window, drawing her stare. The bright veins of crackling light both soothed and chilled her mind. She was fleeing certain death for a somewhat probable demise, and she didn’t know if that notion should comfort or cripple her.
A low click pulled her gaze from the swirling cosmos. She looked down from the window to see her fingernail tapping the device in her hand.
Reyes stepped beside her with light, careful steps. “What are you doing?”
She shook the thoughts from her head and powered on the device. “This uses ultrasensitive electro-sonar beams. It can detect the slightest trace of unstable foreign matters.” Very slowly, she bent over. “It can even sense pulse bombs through ten-inch lead.” The device clinked atop the case, and she shot up straight.
“Is this military issued? Most of the equipment you brought isn’t in any of my databases. I thought the space program was supposed to get top priority of all tech.”
A low tone emitted from the sensor, and Sabrina exhaled. “Whatever’s in this case, it’s not hazardous.” She retrieved her sensor and shoved it back into one of her many pockets. “Kami’s mom designed all this equipment, especially for this trip.” After turning to Reyes, she smirked. “Don’t you think it’s strange? Almost like she knew exactly what we’d need.”
Reyes shook his head, eyes squinting. It looked like he was trying to connect dots within his head, and failing.
“What are you saying? That the commander of the U.N.E. orchestrated all these attacks? Then, what, changed her mind and had you clean it up?”
“Sounds like her,” Sabrina said, kneeling down to stare at the case.
“Why would she do that?” Reyes crouched beside her, joining in the gawk.
“I don’t know, but I betcha Kami and Rai do.” Sabrina reached for the latch, her hand pausing midair. “What do you think is in here?”
“I’m hoping it’s not a piece of Mr. Winslow,” Reyes said, and Sabrina pulled her hands back.
Reyes reached out and unlatched the case. Slowly, he lifted the lid while peeking inside. “Oh.” He swung the top open, picking up a thin silver rod. “It’s an extracting instrument.”
Sabrina pointed to a sloppily drawn smiley face smeared in red on the inner lid. “That’s blood,” she said, rubbing the crusted smudge with her finger.
Reyes typed on his handheld, then scanned the tip of the extractor. A beep rang out from his device, and he frowned while reading the screen. “It’s Winslow’s implant. Someone removed it.”
“Hey, you!” a voice called out as a hand fell on Sabrina’s shoulder.
Without thinking, she seized the hand upon her by its wrist, pivoted her weight, and flipped a solid body to the floor. Her boot landed on a neck, and she yanked the arm in her grasp. After realizing it was Jesse, she relaxed her muscles but kept the boy under her foothold. “Are you stupid or something?”
“Yeah, maybe a little,” Jesse choked while squirming.
Sabrina moved her foot from his throat. Her hand slid into Jesse’s palm, and she hoisted him to his feet.
“I’m sorry,” Jesse said, jerking his hand free to rub his neck.
“Don’t sneak up on people,” she barked, thrusting her finger at Jesse’s chest.
Jesse backed away. “Okay.”
Sabrina glanced at Reyes, who shook his head in disapproval. Her patience had skyrocketed beyond its limit. Whatever this kid wanted, it better be good or he was getting flipped again. “Well, state your business.”
“What did you mean back in my room about why I’m really here?”
The few obscene words that flew from her mouth were muffled by Reyes and his second-rate attempt at an extended throat clearing. She glared at Reyes, only to receive a snippy look.
“I told you to let me do the talking,” Reyes said.
Her gaze fell to Jesse, standing alone in the dim corridor. He looked so young, so innocent. The real world was just waiting for him—to chew up and spit out once it lost the flavor.
“Jesse. The passengers of this vessel were handpicked for their genetic properties. You and your sister aren’t on the primary candidates list. Two days ago, there were two hundred fifty-six passengers on the intake sheet. Now, there are two hundred fifty-eight.”
Jesse sagged against the wall, folding his arms across his chest. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Someone added you two to the list at the last second, sent that letter to your house, and it wasn’t the U.N.E.” Sabrina ducked to meet Jesse’s far-off gaze. “There’s only one person I know who can hack into the military’s supercomputer.”
“Rai,” Jesse said as his eyes narrowed. “But why?”
“That I don’t know.”
Jesse kicked off the wall. His arms clung to his sides, and he stormed down the hallway.
Reyes stepped beside Sabrina, nearly choking on his grin. “The person who said you had people skills was a liar.”
***
Joey pulled a pair of flannel pants from her bag. She held them up, squinting from the light that beamed through faded patches of gray and red. Beyond her ratty pj’s, Kami sat cross-legged on her bed adorned in indigo silk pajamas.
“Do you want to borrow a pair of jams?” Kami asked, without looking up from her ever-growing list of names.
“Really!” Joey took a breath, cranking the giddy down a notch. “I mean, if you don’t mind.”
Kami smirked, gesturing to her bureau. “Help yourself. I’ve got six more suitcases in the cargo bay.”
Since Kami wasn’t looking, she let the giddy fly in the form of a prance-dance to the dresser. She opened a drawer, struggling to keep from embracing the stacks of silvery clothes. “How’s the list going?” She drew a pair of pink pajamas to her chest and sat beside Kami, glancing at the paper.
“There’s just so many names and faces.” Kami leaned back before pushing the page aside. “It all looks so scattered on paper. If I had my handheld, I could create a database. Let the computer do all the work.”
These were the moments Joey hated most—when people needed help and all she had to offer was a pat on the knee and a smile, which rarely solved anything.
A knock rattled the door, and Joey jumped up. “We have a visitor!”
Kami’s grumbles followed Joey across the room, drowning under the keypad’s beep. The door slid open, and Jesse poked his head inside.
“Hey!” Joey grabbed his hand, tugging. “Come in.”
Jesse shook free from her grasp. He looked at Kami then backed into the threshold. “What are you guys up to?”
Joey sagged against the opposite side of the doorway. She hugged the neatly folded clothes, caressing the sleek fabric. “Just chillin’. You can come in.”
A sigh trickled from Jesse’s mouth. His stare bounced from her to Kami, then back to her again. “I just came to say good night.”
“Awe.” Joey tossed the PJ’s aside and threw her arms around Jesse’s neck. “I’m gonna miss you tonight too,” she whispered into his ear.
Jesse ga
ve her a tight squeeze. “Just a few more days.” He pulled away, forcing a smile. “Sleep tight.” After a quick wave to Kami, he walked into the hallway.
***
Two hours had come and gone ten minutes ago. Winslow knew; he counted the seconds. Waiting. This whole time taking shallow breaths. Waiting. His finger on the send button of his handheld. Waiting.
Despite the uncontrollable trembling, he lifted the handheld. Light stung his eyes, piercing his brain. Shadows whirled. His throat tightened, lungs scorching. There was no air. The man wasn’t coming back. He was going to die, locked in this box.
His arm fell to his side, the power on the handheld clicking off. Blackness clung thicker than stagnant air, and the hard plastic case slipped from his sweaty palm.
As he fumbled for his handheld, the cargo box’s lid flew open. He sat up, breathing in sweet oxygen and a fist rocked his head to the side.
“You removed your hood,” a voice snarled.
Winslow slumped against the rim of the crate, dazed by the blow.
“And you’ve wormed your wrists free. Don’t worry; I’ll tie you tighter this time.”
Blood pooled in Winslow’s mouth, and a well of tears blurred his vision. He coughed, a stream of fluid splatting onto the floor. When he turned to look up, a thick cloth dropped over his head.
Winslow balled his fingers into a fist. This time, he was ready. The crumbs of strength, which remained in the depths of his body, now pulsed through his veins. He sprang up, lunging forward. His shoulder rammed into a man’s firm chest, bringing them both down.
They landed on solid floor, and the sound of one’s wind flying from their lungs graced his ears. He reached for his hood, and the electric shock of a stun gun hurled his body into convulsions.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Winslow,” the man said, gasping to catch his breath. “I honestly thought you wanted to live. I guess now I will have to kill you.”
“But God,” Winslow said, his body twitching from the echoes of an electric shock. A hand gripped his shirt, and his back lifted slightly off the ground.
“What did you say?”
The chatter of his teeth slowed, and he seized onto the arm that held him. “God came to me when I was in the box.”
“You lie.”
“No! No, I swear,” Winslow said, suddenly thankful his face was veiled. “God showed me the truth.” He released his grip on the man, holding his hands out in a show of surrender. “I was wrong; we do belong on Earth.”
The tight clutch upon him let loose, and he crashed to the floor. He kept his arms out, an attempt to appear friendly. “God told me if we die out here, in space, our souls will never reach Heaven. He commanded me to obey you and turn this ship around. Go home.”
Shivers ran through Winslow’s body. The man’s boots shuffled all around him, echoing throughout a wide-open space. He must be in the cargo bay, two levels below his flight deck, where no one would think to look for him.
“All right, Mr. Winslow. Get up.”
Although his legs shook, he climbed to his feet. He reached for the hood, paused, then lowered his hand.
“Good. Maybe you are telling the truth. Now get back in the cargo container.”
Winslow’s breath puffed the fabric out before him. Every muscle in his body locked stiff. He didn’t want to get back in that box; he couldn’t. It was just a test; it had to be. If he could prove himself, maybe he could earn a chance at escape, a chance to hold his son one more time.
The reluctance held strong, but he forced his legs to move. The edge of the box dug into his knee, and he reached out, grasping a cold lid. As he lifted his leg, a blow struck his stomach. He doubled over when two more strikes pummeled his face.
He toppled back into the tight compartment, and a hand clutched his throat. “Blasphemy,” a seething voice growled from above him. Winslow struggled, but the weight of the man who throttled his neck forced him down. The rampant pound of his heart drummed his ears. He reached for the handheld. His nails scraped along its glass screen, but his finger found the power button. Even though his sight was cloaked, he knew what buttons to push. Fists pounded his face, chest, gut, and he tapped the display.
Thick fluid rose in the back of his throat. Pennies. All he could taste was liquid pennies, and it gagged him. A sharp and searing pain tore into his side, radiating deep into his stomach. Then he felt his flesh rip.
“And now you can die in this tiny box, Mr. Winslow.”
The hood slid up Winslow’s face as he struggled. He glimpsed a long knife wrench from his side, before the lid crashed shut.
Chapter Sixteen
Jesse stood in his hallway, staring at his door. He wanted to storm inside and demand answers. But then what? There were still two more days in this hellish trip, and he didn’t want to spend them sleeping in the cafeteria.
A group of girls strolled down the hall, slowing to gawk at him. A couple practically boned at the end of the hall, yet he was becoming the main attraction of A-wing. His gaze lowered to his ratty boots. He probably looked like a moron out here, and he’d much rather look like a moron in privacy. With a tap of his thumb, the door whooshed open and he made his legs walk through it.
He kept his gaze low, only bumping into three things. The click of computer keys stopped, a forced cough rang out, but he refused to lift his stare from the floor. A tad childish maybe, but it was working for him so far.
Without a word, he grabbed Kami’s broken handheld and plopped onto his bed. To keep from looking at Rai, he had to twist at a ridiculous angle to get his tool pouch from the nightstand. It wasn’t noticeable, if you were blind.
“Jesse, I—”
“Don’t even.” Jesse held his palm up behind his back. “Whatever lame excuse you’re about to spit out, I don’t care. I just wanna get my sister to Mars and start our lives.”
He glanced at Rai, finding a look of true remorse. The hairs stood on the back of his neck. That was it—the reason he didn’t want to see Rai. He knew he’d jump to forgive his first and only friend. That’s when his anger flared. It swelled into every orifice, and he could no longer contain its blaze.
“You know, just because you have money and power doesn’t mean you can do anything you want.”
“I know,” Rai muttered.
“People’s lives aren’t games. We’re not here for you to play with like toys.”
“That’s not …” Rai tilted his head to the ceiling, leaning back in his chair. “You’re not toys.” He returned the feet of his chair to the floor, looking Jesse straight in the eyes. “I really care about Joey.”
“You don’t even know Joey.” Jesse’s blood boiled, as if his sister’s name triggered a primal instinct to fight for her honor.
Rai didn’t move, not even a flinch, his face as blank as the wall behind him.
Jesse fought to hold his glare, for Joey. Her smile, which flowed so easily since meeting Kami and Rai, would now break like solarized glass. “Joey thought we were important. That we were chosen because we meant something in the world.”
“You told her!”
“No.” Jesse turned from Rai, dumping his micro tools onto the mattress. “I was going to, but I just couldn’t. She looked too happy.”
“Don’t tell her.”
Jesse shot a harsh leer over his shoulder. “I’m not gonna lie to my sister.” He wrestled the shattered screen from Kami’s device, tossing it aside. “I’m just not in any hurry to let her know we’re only here ‘cause some rich kid felt guilty about having money and wanted to send a few G-rats to Mars.”
“It’s not like that, man.” Rai’s hair fell past his cheek as he rubbed his forehead. “And I don’t want you to lie. I just … I want to explain to her. And you.”
Jesse turned toward Rai, and scooted to the edge of the bed. He waited for an explanation but got a high-pitched beep. The chirp didn’t stop, and it was coming from him.
“What is that?” Rai
asked.
While jumping up, Jesse shoved his hand inside his pocket. “It’s Mr. Reyes’ handheld.” He lifted the ringing device in front of his face, glancing at the screen. “Oh crap. It says Winslow. What do I do?”
“Answer it.”
After hitting the send button, muffled sounds spilled from the tiny speaker. Slowly, Jesse moved the handheld closer to his ear.
“And now you can die in this tiny box, Mr. Winslow,” a voice boomed through the speaker.
A flinch took Jesse’s arm back. The voice streamed so loud and clear, so full of hatred, it rattled his nerves. Groans trickled from the handheld and the line went dead.
Jesse ran to the door, hitting the keypad.
“Where you going?” Rai asked, shooting up from his chair.
“To find Mr. Reyes.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“No. You wait here,” Jesse said, stopping Rai in his tracks. “If I’m not back in twenty minutes … I don’t know … do something.” He dashed out the door, taking off down the hall in a sprint.
***
Sabrina stormed into her room, tossing the metal case on her desk. “Now what?” She turned to Reyes, whose body consumed most of the empty space in her doorway, and got a shrug.
Reyes looked at his watch. “It’s almost midnight, Earth time. My brain’s too exhausted to think.”
“There’s no way I can sleep.” Sabrina removed her vest, tossing it on the bed, and cool air rushed in to prickle her skin. “Not with Winslow missing and a psycho on the loose.”
“Mr. Reyes!”
Reyes turned as Jesse ran beside him, holding out a handheld.
“Your phone rang,” Jesse said in a panic. “It said Winslow, so I answered it.”
Sabrina squeezed into the hallway as Jesse flashed the handheld he’d stolen, which Reyes lied about.
“It sounded like a struggle,” Jesse said, his eyes wide. “Then a voice said, ‘I’ll kill you, Mr. Winslow.’ No, wait.” While shaking his head, he waved his hand. “He said, ‘Now you’ll die in this box, Mr. Winslow.’ Yeah, that was it.”