Chapter 34
Chapter Thirty-Five
The howl of the atmosphere being sucked out of the cargo bay grew deafening, louder than the alarm. Foil packets of food concentrate and other supplies from crates that had been opened were whipped up and skittered along the cargo deck toward the opening airlock hatches. Aubriella darted after a clear plastic pouch, running straight toward doom.
Before Connor could say anything, Rudy grabbed her T-shirt and hauled her back.
At the top of the ramp, the hatch slid closed with a thin boom.
They were losing atmosphere fast, and the smells of the cargo hold were being replaced by the distinctive smell of space.
An instant ago, the arctic cold of a mountaintop blast had sent a shiver through Connor. Now a panicked fire shot up through his torso. Once the atmosphere was gone, and they were open to the vacuum of space, they would only have seconds before they passed out.
Death would come quickly after that.
Movement caught his eye: The hatch to the hangar bay was closing.
He ran for it, grabbing as he passed one of the large, heavy-duty containers that had been loosened from its mounts for loading. The thing was made of composites that could survive the combat field.
Would it be enough to brace the hatch open?
The thing weighed a ton, almost yanking Connor off his feet. He bent down, grabbed the handle with his other hand and hauled the thing.
Yemi realized what was going on and put his shoulder against the thing.
Connor almost slipped, and he scolded himself to switch to his boots if he survived.
Already, the odds seemed against that outcome.
There was hardly any air, and the hatch was accelerating.
Then Yemi collapsed, eyes closed.
Rudy was there, then, replacing the older man at the back of the container.
Connor twisted his head around: It was going to be close.
Choices. There were only two, really. He could not take the risk of pulling the case through and die of asphyxiation and exposure. Or he could take the risk and probably be crushed by the slamming hatch.
He didn’t hesitate, speeding the case along the deck, heading into the narrow gap between hatch and bulkhead.
The metal of the hatch banged against his shoulder, then it came to a stop.
Somehow, he’d gotten through the opening just before the hatch sealed.
Now the heavy-duty container was the only thing keeping the hatch from sealing off the hangar bay from the cargo bay.
And that container buckled ever so slightly.
Connor waved frantically for Rudy to come through, but the sergeant spun around. Behind him, Aubriella pushed Yemi forward, then collapsed to the deck.
No!
She wasn’t unconscious, but she was gasping in the vacuum.
A part of Connor’s brain made a note to prioritize her vacuum and 0g training.
If they lived.
But his focus was on the moment. If he didn’t get everyone through before the container gave or before he passed out, they would die. He’d already made a vow he wasn’t going to lose any people on this mission.
Rudy grabbed Yemi and tossed him onto the container top. The mechanic’s body hit without a noise, which almost disrupted the panic of the moment.
Almost.
Connor dragged the mechanic through to the hangar bay, dropping him unceremoniously on the deck. Dignity didn’t matter when lives were at stake.
By the time Connor had twisted back around, Rudy already had Aubriella in the gap.
Again, dignity wasn’t as important as survival. Connor grabbed whatever he could and pulled her through.
At that point, spots danced in Connor’s vision. His legs were rubber.
There was one teammate left. No one was dying on this mission.
Connor shook his head. He had to concentrate!
Time had passed. The crate was buckling. The seal was cracked. Things were spilling out.
Metal. Discs. Tubes. Plates.
Spares for the ship. Some sort of parts…
Rudy had collapsed on top of the container. Already, the hatch was pushing in against the sergeant’s ribs.
How could he possibly fit through. There was no—
Sideways! Turn him sideways!
The container buckled more, deforming and silently spitting out its contents.
Connor grabbed the sergeant and twisted him around so that he was on his side. The former Obsidian Trooper was impossibly heavy: five tons. Ten.
Why couldn’t the artificial gravity unit have gone out instead of the airlock hatches? If the team kept running into disasters, it only seemed fair that one of those disasters went their way.
Black creeped in along the edges of Connor’s vision.
He’d been doing something…trying to do something…
The container grew taller, and he realized something was on top of it.
Another human. An old man with scars.
Rudy.
Connor hooked his forearms under the other man’s arm pits and fell back. Somewhere in the encroaching blackness, the container finally gave out, and the hatch squeezed shut.
Then someone was slapping Connor’s face.
Selen.
But she wasn’t angry. It looked more like she was frightened. There was something in the way her eyes were so big and the way she held him so close. He must be braced against her legs.
She slapped him again, a sound he felt as much as heard. “Connor!”
That helped with focus.
He looked around and recognized the hangar bay. Tim and Tom Moon were tending to Aubriella and Yemi, while Lem stood over Rudy.
Rudy. He looked like he was in one piece. Was he alive?
In the hatchway, Drew held up a mangled piece of metal. “That’s not good. We were supposed to work on the atmospheric unit. Not without this.”
Selen’s face twisted. “It saved lives!”
“Oh.” The engineer took a step back. “I didn’t mean—”
“It doesn’t matter what you meant. We’re lucky to have our people still.”
Connor coughed. His lungs ached, and he felt sick. That smell of space he’d caught earlier was everywhere. “You don’t have to keep slapping me.”
Selen tensed. “Are you okay?”
“What about the others?”
Her leg quit bracing him up, and she leaned over him and planted a kiss on his lips.
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