She was giving up, Rena realized. She was choosing to die here. Rena grabbed her by the shoulders again. “Listen to me. I am getting off this wreck and you are coming with me.”
Abbi brushed Rena’s arms away. “Leave me alone.” She tried to turn away, but Rena wasn’t having any of it. She grabbed Abbi and threw her toward the door. It was easy to do in zero-G; Rena’s feet were grounded, and Abbi’s weren’t.
Abbi spun awkwardly but caught herself in the doorway. “You can’t force me. So don’t even try.”
Abbi was right, of course. Rena couldn’t force her. She couldn’t drag her back to the ship with Abbi kicking and resisting the whole way. But what could Rena do?
“I’m not leaving you here,” said Rena.
“Then we both die.”
The resignation in Abbi’s voice was as frightening as what was coming. It was as if she were dead already. There was no convincing her, Rena realized. Abbi’s mind was set.
Rena moved to her. “I’m sorry, Abbi.”
“For leaving me? Don’t be.”
“Not for leaving you,” said Rena. “For doing this.” She reached behind Abbi’s helmet and yanked out the oxygen line. Abbi’s eyes widened with panic as the air in her helmet was sucked out the valve. She opened her mouth, gasping desperately for breath, then she lost consciousness, and her head lolled to the side. Rena thrust the oxygen tube back onto the valve and checked Abbi’s vitals as Abbi’s helmet refilled with air. Abbi’s heart was beating. Pulse was weak, but there. Rena grabbed her and pushed her limp body out into the hall. If Abbi wouldn’t come voluntarily, Rena would pull her back to the ship. The question was how. Rena couldn’t have Abbi’s appendages sticking out and snagging on things or hitting walls and hatches. They’d move faster if Abbi were tight in a fetal position.
Rena grabbed the coiled harness strap on her hip and pulled out several meters of slack. She bent Abbi and bound her legs up tight to her chest. Next came the arms. Rena folded Abbi’s arms inward and strapped them down as well, as if Abbi were hugging her knees. It wasn’t ideal, but it would have to do. Rena checked her watch. One minute already spent.
I’ll give you five minutes.
Rena looked to her left, the way they had come. The spray-painted arrow on the wall at the end of the hall pointed her back toward the cargo bay. Ten minutes that way.
She looked to her right. The corridor extended another twenty meters and then stopped, allowing her to turn either right or left. She had no idea what was in that direction. There could be a hatch to the outside. There could be a dead end.
I’ll give you five minutes.
She launched to the right, heading into the unknown. The harness strap attached to her hip pulled taught, and Abbi followed. They weren’t going fast enough. Rena hit the propulsion button on her thumb. It was lunacy to do that inside. She shot down the hall. Abbi banged into the side of the wall but kept coming, pulled by the straps. Rena had Abbi’s vitals on her HUD. The pulse was there. Don’t die on me, she thought.
She reached the end of the corridor. Abbi slammed into her back, knocking her against the wall. Rena recovered herself, unhurt. She looked right and left, hoping to see a hatch to the outside. There wasn’t one. It was another corridor, extending twenty meters to the right, maybe forty meters to the left. She looked behind her. Way down at the end of the hall was the spray-painted arrow, calling to her, pointing the way.
I’ll give you five minutes.
She launched to her left, moving farther into the blackness, farther into the maze of the ship, farther away from the only escape she knew. They should have stayed on WU-HU, she told herself. Julexi had been right. What business did they have among crows? She was going to die in this scrap of a ship—her and Abbi both—and it was all her own fault. This Khalid and his crew would find them here and they would do their business, and the family would be broken even more.
Or worse, Khalid would catch Arjuna’s ship and everyone would die. Edimar, Lola, Julexi, the children, the babies. Everyone.
She should have followed the arrows. That had been the right choice.
Her light flickered and then shut off, leaving her in total blackness save for the small light in her helmet. She swore, shaking the light, jostling the batteries, trying to get it working again. She flew forward, essentially blind. Ten meters, twenty meters. She smacked the light hard against her palm, and the light came on again. She reached where the corridor bent to the left and caught herself on the wall, bracing her back for the impact with Abbi. Half a heartbeat later Abbi collided and bounced off, though the foam of their suits took the brunt of the impact.
Rena turned to the left and found …
A bathroom.
It was a dead end. There was no hatch here. No way out. No exit. They had come the wrong way. She had taken a risk and lost the bet.
I’ll give you five minutes.