Airlock by Tash McAdam

Author:Tash McAdam [McAdam, Tash]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Orca Book Publishers
Published: 2023-08-15T20:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

It hits me like an electric shock. The shuttles! This ship has two of them, which means one is on the same side as the airlock entrance. Someone could, in theory, steal a shuttle. They could try to line it up with the airlock and…catch the expelled crew. Then the crew would probably know what to do, how to get back onto a traffic route. How to make contact with someone who could save us if there isn’t enough fuel.

It’s a ridiculous idea.

It’s the only one I have.

Amar’s face clears, like he knows I’ve thought of something. There is a small, cold voice in my head. It’s telling me it would be better to just stay hidden and hope we don’t get caught. They’d throw us out into space, sure, which is the worst thing I can imagine. Except, perhaps, not living up to the hopeful look on Amar’s face. The belief in his eyes that I’ll get us out of this.

But I don’t know how to fly a shuttle. I’ve played the arcade games, when the dust storms were so bad we couldn’t be anywhere without air filters. Maybe that will help?

Starshit.

If I think about it any more I won’t do it. I won’t do anything. I can feel paralysis creeping up on me. A deep sort of stuckness gluing me to the floor. I take a huge breath and force myself up.

My legs shake, mostly from terror, partly from being crouched in a ball for hours. I have to use the bathroom—badly. Maybe the pirates will let me hit it before they kill me. It would be less embarrassing that way.

I don’t fall over, which I’m quite pleased about. Amar uncurls behind me. He stands, pressing himself against my back. It doesn’t feel odd anymore. We’ve been crammed close together for so long it’s become normal. I would have stayed leaning against him forever if he didn’t push me forward. Solid, firm Amar. His iron belief in me, for some reason I don’t know. He’d seen me feeding the littles, he said. Instead of seeing that as a weakness to be exploited, he saw it as strength. He sees me as strong.

Filling my lungs with the deepest breath I can, I move toward the gap.

We’re toast if there’s anyone left in the cargo area. My throat is so tight I can’t swallow. My own muscles are choking me. The narrow space means I have to commit to leaving our nook. There’s no way to poke my head out without the rest of my body. The heavy crates are fastened to the floor with long straps looped through metal rings. But some of the straps were broken earlier when the ship accelerated. If the weight shifts while I’m between the crates and the metal rib, I’ll be crushed.

I don’t breathe until I’m past the gap. I emerge between two huge stacks, easily double my height. From here I can see some of the cargo bay and more of the metal walkway that surrounds it.

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