Mindee Arnett - Avalon

Then he thought no more as pain shot through his skull from the sound. He lurched back behind the crate, almost dropping his gun as he instinctively covered his ears. Never mind that he couldn’t reach them through the helmet. The noise was inside him somehow, a living, vicious thing, hellbent on ripping him apart.

To his right, Shady looked to be in the same level of agony.

Desperate for the noise to stop but powerless to make it happen, Jeth squeezed his eyes closed. He needed to get away from it. He lowered himself to the ground, determined to crawl since he didn’t think he could stand.

On and on it went, getting louder. The dim lights in the cargo bay began to flicker as if they too were affected by the sound. The floor trembled, letting out a noise like warping metal. A buzz of electricity joined the chorus.

What’s happening?

The two shooters appeared around the corner of one of the containers in front of Jeth, both struggling to walk. They were as affected by the noise as he and Shady were. Jeth knew he should take cover, but his body was beyond his control.

The strangers dropped their guns to the floor.

As if in response, the noise began to die down and the panic in the room ended.

When silence finally came, Jeth exhaled in relief. His brain felt squishy inside his skull. He eased himself up to a standing position and faced the two strangers. It had to be some kind of trap. The sweat on his neck and back felt like flakes of ice.

“Are they surrendering?” Shady said from behind Jeth.

“I guess.”

“Can I shoot ’em?”

Tempting. . . . “Uh, no.”

Jeth took a tentative step forward, aiming his Triton. The two didn’t react, but stood still, hands at their sides. Jeth glanced around, suspicious of booby traps. To his left he spotted a toolbox and a pile of maintenance materials. Combined with their spacesuits, Jeth guessed the two shooters had been about to attempt some kind of repair to the outside of the ship when Avalon showed up.

He retuned his gaze to the strangers. Bending his elbow, he pointed the gun toward the ceiling. “We’re not looking for a fight,” he shouted. “Nod if you can hear me.”

Both did, and Jeth lowered his gun, pointing the barrel at the floor.

The shorter one raised his hands to his helmet and pulled it off. A mound of long blonde hair spilled out. Not a guy. A girl. Jeth mentally kicked himself for not realizing it before. She looked about his age, her face pale and a little too thin. Even still, he was struck by how pretty she was, her features delicate like porcelain, yet her expression fierce, like marble.

He caught himself staring and was glad when Celeste’s voice suddenly filled his ears. “What’s going on, Jeth?”

“We’re fine. We found the survivors.”

“Who are they? Why was there shooting? There was shooting, right?”

“Not now, Celeste.” Jeth pressed the button to terminate the link.

Across from him, the other shooter was pulling off his helmet. This one was a he, a guy with dark, spiky hair, as if he usually wore it shaved but had been growing it out. He looked young, too, not much older than Jeth.

Jeth examined the two of them, deciding that neither appeared diseased. That, combined with his faith in Avalon ’s scanning equipment, was enough that he holstered the Triton, then pulled off his helmet. The frigid air bit his face, the smell of it rank, like something long dead.

“You sure you want to be doing that, Boss?” Shady asked, his voice muffled inside the helmet.

Jeth waved him off. “Who are you?”

“Who are you ?” the blonde replied, her eyes narrowed on his face. She might have put down her gun, but Jeth got the feeling that surrender wasn’t in this girl’s vocabulary.

“My name’s Jeth Seagrave, and this is Will Shady.”

“I go by Shady,” Shady shouted, still refusing to remove his helmet. He also hadn’t lowered his gun.

Jeth reached over and pushed the barrel downward. The last thing he needed was for Shady to shoot one of them by accident. If that happened, whatever had made that noise might start up again. What had it been?

And where was the little girl?

As if on cue, the girl slid out from behind a row of nearby barrels and raced over to the blonde, grasping her hand.

The blonde stepped in front of the girl as if to shield her. “Did you say Jeth Seagrave ?”

Jeth frowned. “Yeah, that’s right. What of it?”

She looked away from him, visibly nervous, as if she had made some kind of blunder. “Nothing. So who are you? Why are you here? You’re not ITA, that much is clear.”

“We’re . . .” Jeth didn’t know yet how much to share. When in doubt, lie quick and keep the conversation moving . “We were just passing by. And you are?”

She hesitated, then said, “Sierra Hightower, and this is Vince Mallory.”

Jeth nodded, glad to finally get a question answered even as a dozen more popped up to take its place. He chose the easiest one next. “And who’s she?” He inclined his head toward the little girl.

Sierra’s expression hardened as if Jeth had made a threat toward the girl rather than asked a perfectly reasonable question.

“I’m Cora,” the girl said, peering around Sierra’s side.

“Hello, Cora.” Jeth flashed an awkward smile at her. Talking to kids always made him feel inadequate, as if they spoke a language he didn’t quite understand.

Cora hid her face in Sierra’s side, demonstrating “a case of the shies” as Jeth’s mom used to call bashful behavior. He remembered Lizzie had been prone to the same thing. He wondered if Sierra and Cora were related, but the only resemblance he could see was their light-colored hair.

“So, not to be rude or nothing,” said Shady, shifting around nervously, “but what was making all that noise?”

Sierra looked away, her gaze roaming around the cargo bay even as she pulled Cora tighter against her side. “We don’t know. It’s been happening off and on for a while now.”

“How—” Jeth began.

Sierra cut him off. “What are you doing on our ship?”

Jeth frowned at the command in her voice. That was a pretty reckless attitude considering the position she was in. Feisty. He kind of liked it. Of course, he would’ve felt a lot differently if it had come from her big-muscled companion. The realization annoyed him, and he glared at her, remembering the unfriendly greeting moments before.

“We came to rescue you, but we weren’t expecting to get shot at.” He paused. “Why did you shoot at us?”

Sierra returned his glower. “Have you seen this place? What did you think we were going to do when you appear out of nowhere, carrying guns? And you didn’t stop when we told you to.”

Beside Sierra, Vince straightened up to his full height. The gesture spoke volumes to Jeth about the nature of their relationship. If anybody threatened Sierra, Vince would take care of it. Simple as that. Jeth wondered if they were together, like a couple. Surely they couldn’t be related. They looked nothing alike, plus the different last names.

Jeth took a deep a breath. He supposed she had a point about the guns. Not to mention plenty of reasons to be on edge, stranded here. He glanced away from her, sweeping his gaze over the holes scattered around the cargo bay. He was glad to see none of them contained body parts. “So, what did all this exactly?”

Sierra bit her lower lip and shivered.

Vince cleared his throat. Then in a smooth, deep voice that made him seem much older than he looked, he said, “We don’t know that either. We got lost in the Belgrave, and then a few days later those holes just started tearing their way through the ship. Then some of the crew started disappearing, too. Just vanishing.”