Penance (RN: Book 2) by David Gunner

Author:David Gunner [Gunner, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: David Gunner
Published: 2015-06-01T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

The emergency key found the octagonal hole on the second try, and leading hand Alec Payne rotated it several times to disengage the mechanism with a mechanical ‘clack’. Payne returned the key to his belt pouch and retrieved a flattened pry bar from where it leant against the wall next to the door of the storage room. The thick gloves of his environment suit hampered his actions as he manipulated the serpent tongue of the tool into a recess at the doors midpoint.

Whoever had designed the door had not taken into account cold, frustrated, EV suit wearing crew men who just wanted the damn thing open. The tool found the recessed lip and he levered on it, grunting as the strain increased, only for the pry bar to slip from the shallow recess and almost sending him to the floor.

“Shit!” he cried, much to the amusement of an EV suited colleague performing a similar operation further down the unlit corridor.

The bright disc of light from a head mounted lamp found Payne “What’s up Painee? Can’t find the hole?”

“Whoever built these bastard doors needs shootin’,” said Payne bitterly.

“Put some hair ‘round it, Lad. That’ll sort you out.”

“I’ll put some hair ‘round your bloody hole and stick it in that, if you like!” He again stabbed the tool at the slot in the door. The splayed tip found purchase and Payne gingerly applied weight to the handle. The door creaked and slid open an inch, then two and Payne was almost at the point of sliding his fingers inside to open it completely when the bar slipped sending him to the floor as the door thumped shut.

“Shit!” He cried casting the tool aside and struggling to his feet.

Payne rubbed his sweating forehead with a gloved hand, his fogging breath hampering his view as he stood looking at the door. The slot was miniscule in depth, less than the lip of a coin, and looked more like an imperfection in the paint than something to be used in an emergency.

Placing his hands on his hips he arched backwards, groaning with fatigue as he stretched out the cramps that inhibited his every movement. He was cold, tired, the suit was heavy and he had been wearing it for over fourteen hours. His team had been assigned the task of searching the lower decks of the Bristol in an attempt to locate the missing crew members. They had searched the two decks above and found nothing other than evidence of unsanctioned rest areas, with disabled smoke sensors and cigarette butts crammed into obscure locations, but no missing crew. Initially there had been three teams under the direction of second officer, I’m-better-than-thee, Avery, who spent most of the time watching the wrens from behind. But the other two teams had been reassigned to help with the repairs.

For now it was just his team of six, including that read haired snob, Cummings, who were left to check what parts of the ship had not yet been searched.

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