4. Kahdrex
4
KAHDREX
T he airlock door let us out into what appeared to be maintenance corridors, more like what I’d expected from a warship. I didn’t feel happy about the change, though. The corridor was narrow, with piping extended from the walls. That left just enough space for two people to edge past one another. If the dead crew ambushed us here, we’d be in trouble.
Don’t borrow trouble, I told myself. Enough is following me already.
I glanced back at the human female, close enough to touch with my tail. She could have locked me out with the monsters, but she hadn’t. Maybe her anger at me wasn’t as strong as I thought.
Another loud thump behind us spurred me on, and I led the way into the maintenance ducts. We wouldn’t be any less dead if we stayed in the airlock, and at least this way we were getting closer to escaping. Perhaps it had been a poor idea to knock the human’s ship away—it had seemed a hilarious prank at the time. I no longer saw the humor as I tried to map out a way back to my ship.
A quick glance confirmed my human rival was close behind me, close enough to touch with my tail. I snarled at the images conjured by the thought: pulling her close and stripping the suit from her luscious body, taking her here and now.
Focus on getting out of here alive, fool. This situation is awful enough without letting the witch into my heart.
And it was bad. I’d studied what plans remained of the Numenon, but the maze of maintenance tunnels that snaked through the battleship was too complex to memorize. They coiled around the open areas of the ship, fitted in wherever there was space. Airlocks broke them up into sections, one of which would be near the port I’d docked at. Unfortunately, the layout was far from logical, and the signs followed an incomprehensible naming scheme.
When we entered the maze, I thought I knew where I was going. By the time we’d passed five junctions, I was no longer sure of where we were, let alone my destination.
Not a chance I’d admit as much to my human companion, though. I kept making turns as though I knew where I was going, hoping I’d find a marker I could use to orient myself. The easiest way would be to enter a main deck, but since the tunnels were free of hostiles, I was reluctant to leave them without knowing what we’d be stepping into.
“You realize we’ve passed this junction already, right?” Maddie asked, and I rounded on her with a denial ready. It died on my lips when I saw her pointing to a serial number stenciled on the wall. A serial number I’d seen earlier. Fuck.
“Memorizing a three-dimensional labyrinth is difficult,” I snarled. “Navigating it is harder.”
She didn’t hide her grin at my exasperated tone. I wanted to wipe it off her face, but she held up her hands for peace. “Hey, I’d just be taking random turns in here. At least you know where we’re going, even if you’re a bit confused about where we are.”
I wasn’t prepared for her to be reasonable. It’s not, in my experience, a common human trait. From Madeline Triden, it was both completely unknown and extremely frustrating. She grinned up at me, her pretty green eyes sparkling, and I knew she was enjoying my discomfort despite the danger we were in.
Two can play this game, I told myself, preparing to fight reason with reason. I refused to let her get the upper hand.
“We need to get our bearings,” I said, as close to admitting I’d gotten lost as I’d ever get. “I looked them up in the shipyard plans, but the reality is very different.”
“It always is. They probably got altered during construction, too, when they added or updated the systems. A ship this big takes years to build, and it would be a surprise if things didn’t change.” There it was again. Reasonable, kind, and understanding. Mocking me. “You’re right, we need to stop running away and work out where we’re running to. Also, we’re exhausted, and I can’t see us getting any rest in here. So either we make it to your ship, or we find somewhere safe to take a breather.”
Looking around, I reluctantly agreed. Adrenaline carried us this far, but now came the crash. We needed to rest, but where? The corridors were too narrow to rest in, especially while we had to worry about dead men creeping up on us. I sighed.
“Fine. We check the access hatches as we go and look for somewhere safe. Hopefully, we find one before we find a hungry undead horde.”
For once, luck was with us. The first two hatches we found opened into a wrecked hangar bay and a corridor littered with corpses. We closed them quietly, and apparently undetected. At least the corpses didn’t rise to attack us.
Our third try yielded better results. The hatch opened into a cabin, someone’s personal quarters. Spacious enough that it had to be a senior officer’s, neat, clean, and deserted. That left an eerie, empty feeling—as though its owner had left just minutes ago, rather than centuries.
Poor man, having a maintenance access hatch in your room must have been a nightmare. Too late for him, we would fix that problem. Behind me, Maddie welded the hatch shut. Anyone trying to break in would make enough noise to wake the dead. As places to rest went, we could have done much worse.
Except for one detail.
There was only one bunk.