The Gauntlet

by Megan Shepherd

  God, she was beautiful.

  “Fine,” Leon grunted. “But this is the last job, got it? What’s in the pack, anyway?”

  Bonebreak let out a pleased sound from behind his mask. “Some tools, that’s all. I’ll see you on Drogane. Try not to get yourself killed first.” He snickered.

  Cora started yelling for Bonebreak to hurry, that it was time to go to his ship, and the Mosca disappeared behind the canvas curtains. A second later, he reappeared behind Ellis’s chair on the opposite side of the tent, hustling toward the entrance. Leon blinked. That was impossible. Had he seen right? How’d Bonebreak get all the way across the tent so fast?

  Leon looked at them all one last time.

  Nok and Rolf.

  Cora.

  Anya, who he’d barely known.

  And then he turned toward Mali and smiled.

  “Took you long enough!” she called as he ran up and elbowed a Kindred guard in the neck who had her in a headlock.

  “Miss me?” he said.

  Mali rolled her eyes. “Come on.” She grabbed his hand, and his heart started rumbling around in a way he wasn’t quite used to. She lifted the bottom flap of the tent and they crawled out into the morning air. It was already hot enough to make sweat bead on his brow, but all the fighting was confined to the tent, and outside it was thankfully calm.

  “It’ll be in there,” Mali said, pointing to the transport hub.

  They charged across the sand. Hot steam came from vents ringing the hub, but they were able to weave among them and get safely to the open flight door. Inside, the Kindred shuttle waited. Unmanned. A few paces before reaching the shuttle, Leon motioned for her to help him rig up a rope ladder system out of tent poles and ropes, to climb on top of the shuttle so their footprints wouldn’t show. As soon as they made it, Leon threw the rope ladder away. They climbed into the rear hatch, which led to fuel cell storage. It was pitch-black inside.

  “Ow,” he said, promptly running into a fuel cell.

  “Take my hand. I can sense the objects.” Mali slipped her small, scarred fingers into his and led him to the padded walls of the transport. “The shuttle uses inflatable bladders in the wall to keep the cells from being damaged. If we deflate one, we can crawl inside and hide in it. Do you have a knife?”

  He produced one with a flourish, though it was too dark to see well. “It was one of Ellis’s. Swiped it off the floor.” He felt around on the wall until he found a seam toward the bottom, where a cut wouldn’t be obvious. He punctured it. Chemically fresh air fizzled out. He cut a two-foot-long gash and he and Mali wriggled into the cavity.

  “Ouch,” she muttered as his elbow poked her.

  “Sorry—gah.” They bumped heads. “Tight quarters, eh?”

  Mali shifted. He could feel the curves of her body against his, and he thought of her fighting off the Kindred, so beautiful and lean and deadly. He realized that he might not mind these tight quarters after all.

  “Mali?” he whispered.

  “We should be quiet,” she said. “Silence is—”

  And he silenced her by pressing his lips to hers. Her body went rigid with surprise, but then her lips met his again, and he realized that valiantly risking his life for this rescue mission might have perks he hadn’t considered before.

  He kind of liked this hero thing.

  10

  Cora

  “BONEBREAK!” CORA YELLED. WHERE had he snuck off to now? Fian’s Kindred soldiers had driven most of the deputies to the rear of the tent, where they were pressing against the canvas side, making the entire structure sway precariously.

  Fian turned at her call. Shit, she thought. He lifted his pulse rifle and aimed it in her direction. Her heart shot to her throat and she ducked, shielding her head with her hands. But . . . nothing. After a few seconds she looked up. Fian was jiggling the rifle’s pulse unit.

  It had jammed.

  He threw the rifle to the ground and started toward her instead. Cora jerked upright. She should run . . . she should flee . . . but there was nowhere to go. The tent canvas was too heavy to lift on her own.

  Fian was three steps away, then two. Cora snatched one of the silver serving trays, brandishing it like a shield. He raised a fist. She stepped backward and collided with something hard. The platform. She was boxed in.

  His face was a chilling void of emotion. His fist raised and—

  Stopped.

  Just stopped.

  Not a single muscle moved.

  Cora clutched the silver tray with white knuckles. She took a quick breath. Then another. He still didn’t move. Frozen as a wax statue. Slowly, she lowered the tray.

  Anya stood behind him with her trembling fingers outstretched.

  “Anya,” Cora called. “Thanks.”

  “I can’t hold him off long!” Anya called. “Kindred minds aren’t as easy to control as human ones are. I can only control one or two at a time.”

  Cora ducked out from under Fian’s frozen fist. The tent was a chaotic storm: Mind-controlled deputies fought Kindred. Kindred fought humans. Tent guards fought mine guards. The structure swayed again as Kindred soldiers pressed a group of tent guards harder against the canvas sides.

  “Do the best you can,” Cora said. “I’ll find Nok and Rolf. Once we’re all together, release Fian’s and everyone else’s minds all at once. It’ll cause a panic. We’ll hope they’re all too distracted to realize we’ve even gone.”

  Anya nodded, grimacing with the effort of keeping Fian frozen. “Go on. Find the others. I’ll cover you as long as I can.”

  Cora gave her a nod and then skirted the edge of the tent, keeping low. For once she was glad she was small, unnoticeable in the chaos. The heat of battle made her sweat.

  From the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of Leon and Mali slipping out from under the bottom flap. Good. At least they’d managed to get away. She searched through the knot of bodies for Nok, but she didn’t see her anywhere, and then—there.

  A flash of pink.

  Nok and Rolf were crouched in the narrow space behind Ellis’s platform.

  Cora ducked behind a fluttering curtain, stepped over a deputy bleeding from a gash on his head, and threw herself behind the platform, breathing hard.

  “Nok! Rolf! We’ve got to go.”

  But Nok and Rolf weren’t alone. A handful of Ellis’s deputies were with them, including an older woman with a rattling cough. For a second Cora tensed her muscles, ready to fight. But then Nok lifted a hand to stop her.

  “Cora,” Nok said, “this is Keena, and Loren, and Avery. Tent guards. They’re on our side.”

  Deputies? On their side?

  “Okay,” Cora said in a rush, “but we have to go. Now.”

  Overhead, the tent was swaying even more violently. Pop. One of the smaller support beams cracked in half and a corner of the tent’s roof sagged. “We need to get out while everyone’s distracted,” Cora continued. “Anya’s holding off the Kindred. I need to get Willa and then we can all head for the ship—”

  Nok shook her head. “I can’t.”

  Cora blinked, confused. “What? This is our one chance to get off this moon.”

  “I know,” Nok said. Her hand slid to cradle her belly. “But if we leave the moon, we have no idea what’s out there. Even if you get to Drogane, who knows what kind of reproductive medical care the Mosca have—we don’t even know if they have children like we do.”

  “What are you saying?” Cora asked in disbelief.

  Nok glanced at Rolf.

  “Armstrong isn’t stable, I know that,” Nok said. “But this baby is going to come soon. Keena was an obstetrician’s nurse back home. Loren and Avery both have given birth back on Earth. As dangerous as it is here, I think it’s the best chance we have for a healthy birth. There are midwives.” She motioned to the deputies. “There are people who will help us. And I’ve gotten to know them in the wives’ tents. I trust them. That’s more than I can say for Drogane.”

&n
bsp; Cora still stared at them both as if she hadn’t heard right.

  “It’s true,” Rolf added quietly. “You said the same thing yourself, Cora—that this place might not be so bad for a baby, if the sheriff was gone. And anyway, the Gauntlet’s your mission. If we go with you, we’ll only slow you down. You need to be as focused as you can, not worrying about us and the pregnancy.”

  Cora shook her head. “It’s practically war here. The mine guards and the tent guards hate each other!”

  “Ellis is dead,” Nok said. “There’ll be a new sheriff. A new system. It’s a chance for things to change here. Things could be better. At least, I hope so.” She took a deep breath. “I think it’s the best option we’ve got.”

  Cora stared at her like she’d gone mad. All of them. Words pushed around in her mind, but she couldn’t seem to make any sense of them.

  Someone screamed as another support post broke. Half the tent buckled before collapsing on top of half the battle. Muffled, choked cries rang out. Dust stirred up and Cora threw a hand over her mouth.

  “Go,” Nok urged Cora, coughing.

  “But Earth,” Cora started. “There’s still a chance . . .” She spun to Rolf, uncertain. “Don’t you see how crazy this is?”

  He looked at his fingers thoughtfully. “We haven’t always gotten along, you and I. I’m sorry for not seeing that you were trying to help us. For so long Lucky tried to tell us that we each have our own cause. Well, I see that now. You have yours. Go, and beat the Gauntlet, and do what you were meant to do. Show the Kindred how strong humans are. We’ll be here, cheering you on.”

  Without warning, he threw his arms around her. Nok joined in, and Cora squeezed tight, knowing it was pointless to argue.

  Another support beam snapped. Nok pushed Cora away. “Go, hurry!”

  The deputies grabbed Nok, pulling her to safety as another portion of the tent ceiling buckled. The last support snapped.

  Screams rang out as the entire tent collapsed.

  Cora ducked behind the platform just as the heavy canvas slammed down overhead. The dust was so thick, she couldn’t see. Everywhere, bodies fought against the canvas, amid the smothered yells of those who couldn’t breathe. Cora gasped for air in the lee of the platform, spotting a small opening at the edge of the tarp. She crawled for it, but the canvas pressing down was too heavy. Her lungs were choked.

  She kept crawling, barely aware of the other bodies also thrashing to get out from under the collapsed tent. She saw a glint of light ahead—daylight. She was so close to the edge of the tarp. She reached and reached but couldn’t make it. . . .

  Suddenly the canvas lifted. A face looked in.

  “Dane!” she cried, coughing.

  He reached a hand in, grabbing hers, and dragged her out the rest of the way. She emerged, coughing, into fresh air. Took deep gulps, filling her lungs. She squinted into the sunlight. The collapsed tent looked like something from a nightmare; bodies pushed up from inside, trying to crawl out. She could make out the sound of cutting as the Kindred used knives to saw their way free.

  “Come on,” Dane said. “That tent won’t slow them down for long.”

  “You—you saved me.”

  “And you’re going to save me.”

  “Nok and Rolf . . .”

  “They got out. I saw them. They ran to another tent with some of Ellis’s deputies. And Anya took off toward the ship. Bonebreak too. I saw them both heading across the desert separately.”

  “He’ll take off without us if he gets there before Anya.”

  “We can outrun him,” Dane assured her.

  We? Cora thought warily. But he had just saved her life. And she knew if he stayed, he was a dead man. The deputies knew he’d been planning a mutiny.

  She hesitated.

  Dammit. She couldn’t leave him.

  “Help me get Willa,” she said, “and you can come with us.”

  Dane nodded. “I know where she is.”

  They raced for the slave barracks. There were no deputies guarding the entrance—they’d all run to the command center tent once the fighting had commenced. Inside, the slaves were all wild-eyed and anxious, trying to figure out what was happening.

  Cora grabbed at the bars just inside the tent flap, straining to look for Willa among the crowd. Anxious slaves called to her.

  “What’s going on?”

  “It’s the Kindred, isn’t it? They’re attacking!”

  “Where’s Ellis?”

  “Ellis is dead,” Cora said. She strained again to see Willa, but there were too many figures in the way. She fumbled with the latch until she figured out how to release it. “You’re no longer slaves.” She threw open the door. “Go!”

  The slaves started pouring out of the tent into the fresh air and sunshine.

  “Do you see Willa?” Cora called to Dane.

  He motioned to the rafters in the rear of the tent. “Back there!”

  As soon as they could squeeze between the escaping slaves, they ran inside the barracks.

  A thump sounded behind her.

  She whirled to find Willa in the center of the room. She’d dropped from the supports where she’d been hanging.

  “Willa,” Cora breathed, “you have to come with us.”

  Willa snorted and shook her head, making a writing motion as though she were referring to the last note she’d written Cora.

  “I know I haven’t proven myself yet,” Cora said. “But we don’t exactly have a choice. Kindred have come, bad ones who are trying to stop me from running the Gauntlet. If they find out you’ve run it before and could help me, they’ll kill you.”

  Willa huffed, but her eyes looked uncertain.

  “It’s true,” Dane added.

  Willa cocked her head as she listened to the commotion outside. She shuffled to the tent entrance, peering outside, and then jerked upright at the sight of the battle and the flashing lights of the Kindred cruisers. Not far away, figures were climbing out of the central command tent wreckage. They moved almost robotically—Kindred who had managed to cut their way free. They turned, sensing Cora’s presence.

  One of them pointed.

  Willa started running for the entrance.

  “I’ll take that as a yes,” Cora said. “Let’s go!”

  The three of them raced out of the slave barracks. Willa tugged Cora’s sleeve. The chimp pointed a hairy finger toward the tent that served as the fleet garage.

  “The trucks,” Dane said. “That’s brilliant. I know where Ellis kept the keys. Let’s go!”

  They veered in the direction of the garage. The Kindred were running toward them, thirty yards away, then twenty, closing the gap fast. Dane reached the closest truck and Willa jumped in the back, pounding on the side in urgency. Cora climbed into the passenger’s side.

  Dane fumbled with the keys, cheeks going red. “I can’t . . . never learned . . .”

  “Seriously? Give the keys to me. Slide over.”

  “I was fourteen when they took me from Earth,” he started as they switched places. “Only driven twice . . . my dad’s minivan . . .”

  Cora slammed the keys into the ignition and cranked the truck to life. The complicated controls looked like those of an airliner jet, not a car. She glanced at the pedals—there were six.

  “Cora,” Dane said warningly, looking behind them.

  “I don’t know which pedals to push!”

  “The Kindred—”

  “I know!”

  She picked a pedal at random and slammed a foot down.

  The truck roared forward. She cried out, gripping the wheel hard. In the rearview mirror, she watched a surprised Willa holding on for dear life. The truck raced forward, kicking up dust. She blinked furiously and tried to control the wheel.

  “The Kindred are still running,” Dane said. “Damn, they’re fast! They’re nearly gaining on us!”

  Cora pushed the pedal harder. In the rearview mirror, she could see a half dozen Kindred tearing across th
e desert behind them.

  “There’s the ship,” she said.

  Ahead, the gleaming fleet of white ships and Mosca troops had vanished. The hologram must have shorted out, because now only Bonebreak’s dented old ship crouched on the horizon. Lights came on beneath it as it prepared to depart. The ground rumbled softly.

  “Anya and Bonebreak must already be on board,” Cora said. “They’ll wait for us. They have to.”

  Other lights suddenly shone overhead, moving back and forth like helicopter spotlights.

  Dane leaned out the truck window. “Kindred cruisers are overhead. They must have had one on the shuttle. It’s like a motorcycle with a propeller—and it’s got guns!”

  On cue, a volley of laser pulses shattered the ground in front of them. Cora screamed and jerked the wheel to avoid the deep ditch the lasers had created. The rearview mirror reflected the running Kindred easily leaping over the ditch.

  “Pull up beneath the hatch,” Dane said, pointing beneath Bonebreak’s ship. “The truck will block us and give us a second to climb up.”

  Cora pressed her foot harder against the pedal, but the truck wouldn’t go any faster. She muttered prayers under her breath, trying hard to remember driver’s ed back at Richmond High. Parallel parking . . . something about a three-point turn . . .

  She slammed her foot against another pedal, then another, until she found the brakes, whipping the steering wheel around. The truck skidded and she cringed. For a second it felt as if the truck were lifting on two wheels. They spun, spun, and she caught glimpses of the Kindred soldiers, then glimpses of the cruiser lights overhead . . .

  Then the truck stopped. She looked up through the windshield.

  They were directly beneath the ship’s hatch. Anya looked down, round cheeks flushed. “Climb up!” Anya yelled above the roar. “Hurry!” She reached down with a small hand to help pull Cora up, but she wasn’t strong enough, and Willa made a stirrup with her hands to help boost her from below. Cora climbed in on her stomach. She spun around and reached down for Willa.