Chapter 22 #2
“Trella, I admire your tenacity,” Ponife said. His voice echoed from a speaker inside the collar of the helmet. “However, it is time to stop. Surrender and I will allow your cohorts to join the other survivors.”
“No,” Riley said.
“It would be unwise to trust them,” Logan said.
“Thanks for the advice, Logan. Tell me something I didn't know,” I snapped. Putting my knife on the floor, I glanced around, searching for a way to escape. “This stinks, but I don't think we have a choice. Too bad we didn't get to the hatch in time.”
I walked to the hatch and almost laughed when six Outsiders followed me. Tenacious, I may be and stubborn and maybe even a bit reckless, but I never excepted to be considered dangerous enough to need six escorts.
We entered the ship. The room was similar to Gateway with another door and a control panel. As the hatch closed behind us, I hoped Riley and the others had gotten my hint. One of the Outsiders punched a few buttons. I repeated the sequence aloud.
Ponife chuckled drily. “Your friends are in custody. No one is left to help you.”
This was the second time he claimed I was alone and helpless. It didn’t go as he had expected the first time, you’d think he’d learned by now. Or I would. Fear still pulsed through my body.
After a hissing noise vibrated through my suit, the other door opened and we were in an area that resembled a changing room, with empty suits hanging on hooks and shelves full of helmets and gloves.
“Keep your helmet on,” Ponife ordered. “We have no plans to kill you.”
“I feel so much better,” I said.
They removed their helmets.
Ponife had perfected his superior expression. “You should be happy. Your mother and friends will all be members of our new combined community.”
“Is she here?” I asked.
“No. She is with the others. Only you will stay with us until our world below is...cleaned.”
“Cleaned? Why don't you call it what it is? It's genocide.”
“Because that would be technically inaccurate.”
“Yet another thing you’ve gotten wrong, and it doesn’t even bother you. Amazing.”
“Trivial issues, causing only minor delays.”
“I'm glad you can put a positive spin on what I'd call stupid mistakes.”
Ponife took the bait. “For example…?”
“You assumed that knife was my only weapon.” I pulled the last bomb from my pocket and yanked the pin out.
Rolling it along the floor, I dodged a few Outsiders until one aimed his gun at me and pulled the trigger.
One disk clipped my right shoulder, slicing through the suit, my skin and muscles.
Fire burned as I lost the use of my right arm in an instant.
The air inside my suit leaked through the rip with a high pitched whistle.
When nothing more happened—damn, a real dud this time—Ponife asked, “Is that it? Do you have anything else?” He yanked me to my feet and took off my tool belt. He strode to one of the cabinets and rummaged. Returning, he slapped a white patch over the hole in my suit.
Pain from the slap mixed with amazement. “Why did you save me?” I asked him.
“I told you before—"
“No plans to kill me. But you said “we” and he…” I pointed with my left hand to the one who still clutched his gun.
“He didn't hesitate. Are you sure your plans match the others? Because that particular idea is another mistake.” I wasn't being suicidal, really.
My will to live throbbed in my heart, I was just hoping to sow a little dissension among the Outsiders.
They glanced at each other until Ponife growled at them to stop. Then an ear-aching alarm sounded. Surprised, their focus shifted to the hatch. I was the only person to see the glass ball flash.
I dove to the floor, flattening my body. Glass shards pelted my right side as a wave of energy rolled me over to my back. I stared at the ceiling, silently thanking Ivie and Kadar.
“Trella, quit napping while we do all the work,” Logan voice filled my helmet.
Riley's face blocked my view. “Are you hurt?” he asked.
“Nothing Lamont can't fix,” I said, groaning as I ambled to my feet. Ponife and the other Outsiders had been stunned by the bomb. “How did you two get in here?”
Logan gestured to Riley. “His knife. Sloan's wrench. Bubba Boom's surprise recovery. And my genius.” Then he muttered, “And your help with the code.”
“Can you repeat that last part?” I asked.
“Later,” Riley said. “We need to leave before the rest of the Outsiders come to investigate.”
We made it through the hatch. Bubba Boom waited nearby with his blow torch. His face was peppered with cuts and a cracked helmet rested by his feet.
“Disk deflected off my helmet,” Bubba Boom explained. “I passed out from lack of oxygen. I woke when there was enough air but decided to stay down until the odds looked a little better.”
As Bubba Boom sealed the hatch, we removed our suits. Riley helped me with mine.
He inspected the cut on my shoulder. “I see bone. Do you know where your mother is?”
“On the other ship.”
We all glanced at the bay door. Two possibilities waited on the other side. One—Outsiders controlled the ship. Two—Hank and his people had managed to free our Insiders.
Logan examined the panel next to the door. “When should I open it?”
Riley handed me a gun he had taken from the fallen Outsiders and then armed himself with two.
I held the unfamiliar weapon in my left hand.
Sloan also held one and his wrench rested on his shoulder.
Bubba Boom finished sealing the hatch and joined us.
Riley gave him one of his guns, then pulled his knife from his belt.
“On three,” Riley said. “One.”
Logan pressed a few keys.
“Two,” Sloan said.
More beeps followed. Logan's hand hovered above the glowing red button.
“Two and a half,” Bubba Boom said.
A nervous chuckle rolled through us.
“Three,” I said.