I Am Number Four: The Lost Files: Last Defense(34)

“What the hell happened to him?” I ask.

“I don’t know,” Adam says, and for a moment I think I see tears in his eyes. He steadies himself. “He looks . . . he looks like the other Chim?ra did right after I rescued them from Plum Island. They were experimented on.”

“It’s okay, Dust, you’re okay,” Marina whispers. She gently smooths down the feathers on his head, trying to calm him. She uses her Legacy to heal most of the scratches that cover him, but it doesn’t release Dust from the paralysis.

“We can’t do anything more for him here,” I say. I feel bad, but we need to keep moving. “If that Mog did this to him, she’s long gone. Let’s just get back to the others. Maybe they’ll have ideas about what to do.”

Adam brings Dust on board the Skimmer and wraps him in a blanket. He tries to make the paralyzed Chim?ra as comfortable as possible before he sits down behind the ship’s controls.

I want to get in touch with John, find out how things are going outside the Mexican jungle. I retrieve the satellite phone from my pack and settle into the seat next to Adam. While he begins powering up the ship, I call John.

The phone rings endlessly. After about a minute, Marina leans forward to look at me.

“How worried should we be that he’s not answering?” she asks.

“The normal amount of worried,” I reply. I can’t help but glance down at my ankle. No new scars—as if I wouldn’t have felt the searing pain. “At least we know they’re still alive.”

“Something’s not right,” Adam says.

“We don’t know that,” I reply quickly. “Just because they can’t answer right this second doesn’t mean—”

“No. I mean with the ship.”

When I take the phone away from my ear, I can hear the strange stuttering noise the Skimmer’s engine is making. The lights on the console in front of me flicker erratically.

“I thought you knew how to work this thing,” I say.

Adam scowls, then angrily flips down switches on the dashboard, powering the ship off. Beneath us, the engine rattles and clangs, like something’s not catching.

“I do know how to work this thing, Six,” he says. “It’s not me.”

“Sorry,” I reply, watching as he waits for the engine to settle before powering the ship up again. The engine—Mogadorian technology that should be deathly silent—once again burps and spasms. “Maybe we should try something besides turning it off and on again.”

“First Dust, and now this. It doesn’t make sense,” Adam grumbles. “The electronics are still working. Well, everything except for the automated diagnostic, which is exactly what would tell us what’s wrong with the engine.”

I reach over and hit the button that opens up the cockpit. The glass dome parts above our heads.

“Let’s go have a look,” I say, standing up from my seat.

We all climb back out of the Skimmer. Adam jumps down to inspect the ship’s underside, but I remain atop the hood, next to the cockpit. I find myself gazing at the Sanctuary, the ancient limestone structure casting a long shadow thanks to the setting sun. Marina stands next to me, silently taking in the view.

“Do you think we’re going to win?” I ask her, the question just popping out. I’m not even sure I want an answer.

Marina doesn’t say anything at first. After a moment, she rests her head on my shoulder. “I think we’re closer today than we were yesterday,” she says.

“I wish I knew for sure that coming down here was worth it,” I say, clutching the satellite phone, willing it to ring.

“You need to have faith,” Marina replies. “I’m telling you, Six, the Entity did something . . .”

I try to trust in Marina’s words, but all I can think about are the practicalities. I wonder if the flood of Loric energy from the Sanctuary was what screwed up our ride in the first place.

Or maybe there’s a simpler explanation.

“Hey, guys?” Adam calls from beneath the ship. “You better come take a look at this.”

I hop down from the Skimmer, Marina right behind me. We find Adam wedged between the metal struts of the landing gear, a bent panel of the ship’s armored underbelly in the dirt at his feet.

“Is that our problem?” I ask.

“That was already loose,” Adam explains, kicking the dislodged piece. “And look at this . . .”

Adam motions me closer, so I slide in next to him, getting an intimate look at the inner workings of our ship. The Skimmer’s engine could probably fit under the hood of a pickup truck, but it’s a lot more complicated than anything built here on Earth. Instead of pistons or gears, the engine comprises a series of overlapping spheres. They spin fitfully when Adam pushes against them, ticking uselessly against the exposed ends of some thick cables that run deeper into the ship.

“See, the electrical systems are still intact,” Adam says, flicking the cables. “That’s why we still have some power. But that’s not enough alone to get the antigravity propulsion going. These centrifugal rotors here?” He runs his hand over the overlapping spheres. “They’re what gets us off the ground. Thing is, they aren’t broken either.”

“So you’re telling me the Skimmer should work?” I ask, my eyes glazing over as I stare at the engine.