Page 70 of Stealing Mercury
“State emergency.” The computer had a slick, almost human voice. Nothing but the best for murdering scumbags.
“Open all hatches.”
“All public spaces are accessible,” the calm voice responded. “Sealed hatches indicate areas not available to passengers.”
“I can’t find the crew,” she improvised. “I need the hatches open so I can conduct a search.”
“Sensors indicate crew not on board.”
“You’ve got a sensor malfunction,” she said, hoping the hack would help along that lie. When there was no response, she pounded on the door in frustration. “This is an emergency. Comply!”
“Acknowledged. Running a diagnostic and releasing all hatches.”
She didn’t know if it was the hack or bad emergency response programming, but she wouldn’t complain over her good fortune.
“Hallelujah.” She slipped through the door as it slipped open. The floor was hidden beneath piles of clothes and empty bev tubes. The room smelled like a stale reminder of a days-old hangover. She checked the storage drawers, then shoved aside a blanket hanging half off the bunk and bent to look underneath for any supplementary storage. Nothing.
“Sensor diagnostic complete, no malfunction found. No crew currently aboard. One unregistered and two registered passengers identified.”
Two. Where had they come from? If anything had happened to Mercury—the sound of the doors engaging sent Samantha dashing for the next doorway, but all the doors slid shut. Stars, she needed the hack to kick in. If the security protocols were still functioning, whoever had come back to the ship could use them to locate her.
She headed up the steps to the main corridor. Left would take her back to the pilot’s station, probably the first place they’d look. Right would take her to the commons, but anyone coming in the main hatch would also have to pass through there to get to the pilot’s station. Between her and the commons were a lot of dead ends and several turns. If she was lucky, she might make it to the one cross corridor she’d seen before they found her.
She dropped to the floor and removed her boots, then went to the right, moving quickly but cautiously. The metal decking felt cool and smooth beneath her feet as she followed the corridors into the body of the ship. The telltale thud of booted feet warned her they’d already made it past the commons and were headed right for her. She spun around and sprinted back along the corridor, sliding at the turns like a drunk on an ice plane.
She rounded the last corner between her and the pilot’s station and ran smack into a solid male chest. Damn, where had he come from? His arms closed around her like a vise, squeezing the breath from her heaving lungs.
“Well, look what I cornered.” The hunter spoke to someone over her shoulder. The other one must have caught up.
“No points.” The voice behind her was jovial and relaxed. “That was luck.”
“Being in the right spot is a skill,” the hunter protested.
Samantha struggled against his hold. She tried to get a knee to his groin, but he held her too tight.
“Hey, mister lucky?” Getting his attention was the only tactic she could think of to get him to ease his grip. The moment he looked down at her, she wrenched her head back and then forward, clipping his chin with her forehead.
“Shit,” the man shouted. He was pissed. It hadn’t exactly felt good to her, but it worked. His hold loosened.
Samantha grabbed for the stunner at his waist and dropped to her haunches, letting her body fall like dead weight. It broke his grip and she scrambled.
She came away with the stunner and got in a shot as she did a one handed crab walk away from him. He dodged. She tried to adjust her aim. Something slammed into her, flipping her over and flattening her against the deck.
A sharp, jarring pain shot through her shoulder. She couldn’t get air and before she recovered both men were on her. One lay with his torso across her, the other wrenched her arms over her head and tried to twist the stunner out of her hand. She fired. He yelped and released her. The high, shuddering whimper told her she’d gotten him good. Not enough to take him out, but enough to throw him off his game.
The blast failed to distract the guy still crushing her to the decking—he was too busy shoving her face into the floor.
She was trying to get her arm back around to get a shot off at him when she saw Lo coming down the corridor like the devil they called him. There was no sound except her labored breathing and the grunts of the man pressed against her. Lo’s eyes flickered with red flames as he sprung into the air and flew at her attacker, claws extended. She saw it as if time slowed. She braced for the blow of Lo’s weight coming down on them, but it never came. His momentum carried him over them and he plucked the man off her as he tumbled past. The quiet, swift movements gave Samantha an eerie chill. She tried to push up to a sitting position, but her hands slipped in wet crimson. She hadn’t realized Lo had drawn blood but the evidence was soaking into her top.
The second man was trying to get a stunner in his left hand. His right hung limply at his side. The awkward movements slowed him down. She scrambled to get to him before he could aim. They both froze as a loud growl rolled down the corridor.
Mercury.
A blur of motion whooshed past in a quicksilver flash of heat and energy. She shivered as cool, ship-controlled air sucked back in to fill his wake.
Everything stopped.
The hunters, both injured and unconscious, lay barely breathing on the floor. Lo and Mercury crouched over them, hands bloody, chests heaving. They watched her and waited. Waited for her reaction. Waited for her to accept or reject them. Waited, unrepentant, for her to pass judgment. They needed her to go to them, to reassure them. She tried, but something between her brain and her body had broken.
