Walls don’t breathe.
I’d forgotten all about Cisco, the guard up on the bow.
He’s not on the bow, anymore. He’s standing directly behind me. Close enough to hear my murmured extraction code. Close enough to notice me edging toward the door unnoticed.
When I realize my fatal mistake, I don’t even have time to bolt for the exit — his arm is already banding around my neck, his full strength compressing my windpipe.
“What did you just say, kid?”
I choke out an unintelligible gasp.
The rest of the room falls silent as they all turn to look. Jaxon’s eyes go wide as he sees me in Cisco’s grip.
“Let him go,” he snaps, taking a step toward us. Drawing his gun. “I mean it, Cisco.”
“He was muttering something under his breath!” Cisco yells over my shoulder. “Did anyone check him for a wire?”
“No.” Lopez stalks toward us, murder in his eyes. “Let’s do that.”
Jaxon’s expression darkens. “Don’t be ridicul—”
He never finishes the word.
Because, in that moment, the loudest bang I’ve ever heard shakes the ship and the entire cabin explodes around us into a shower of debris. The air is no longer air — it is shards of glass, splinters of wood, scraps of metal. Every portal window shatters simultaneously, every overhead hatch rips clean of its hinges.
I drop to the floor as gas canisters fly through a gaping hole in the roof, spilling noxious fumes as they roll across the cabin floor. It’s instantly pitch dark. I cough against the burn in my throat, shielding my head as I hear the sound of gunfire behind me. The ceiling rattles as boots pound up the metal gangplank, a prelude to a fleet of arriving agents.
Unable to see more than two inches in front of my face thanks to the smoke-bombs, I crawl blindly in what I hope is the direction of the exit. I drag my body over broken glass, barely feeling the pain as I scramble toward air and light and safety. I almost make it, too. My hands hit the track of the sliding glass door that leads outside. I can practically taste freedom on my tongue.
Until a massive hand curls around my ankle and drags me back, into the darkness. Until two hands lock around my throat and begin to squeeze and squeeze and squeeze, so hard I think my neck will snap.
I struggle, but it’s no use.
He’s too big.
Too strong.
I can’t get away.
Can’t move.
Can’t breathe.
My vision clouds over with stars. The stars turn black, spreading from my peripherals inward, darkening my entire visual field. The last thing I see before I lose consciousness is Lopez, looming over me like a demon straight from hell, vengeance burning in his eyes.
“You did this,” he hisses, squeezing even harder.
The last bit of fight leaves my body.
And then… the world goes dark.
THIRTY-THREE
josephine
I use my best penmanship,carefully inking each word on the thick, creamy stationary my parents’ secretary purchased for my sixteenth birthday.
Blair and Vincent,