I Am Number Four: The Lost Files: Last Defense(35)

“It should,” Adam says, but then he waves his hand in some empty space between the rotors and the wires. “Except you see that?”

“I have no idea what the hell I’m looking at, dude,” I tell him. “Is it broken?”

“There’s a conduit missing,” he explains. “It’s what transfers the energy generated by the engines to the rest of the ship.”

“And you’re telling me it didn’t just fall out.”

“Obviously not.”

I take a few steps out from underneath the Skimmer and scan the nearby tree line for any movement. We already killed every Mog that was trying to break into the Sanctuary. All except for one.

“Phiri Dun-Ra,” I say, knowing that the Mog is still out there. We were too focused on getting into the Sanctuary to bother going after her earlier, and now . . .

“She sabotaged us,” Adam says, reaching the same conclusion I have. Phiri Dun-Ra did a number on Adam when we arrived, beat him up pretty good and was about to try roasting his face on the Sanctuary’s force field before we got the drop on her. He still sounds pretty bitter about it. “She took out Dust and then she stranded us here. We should’ve killed her.”

“It’s not too late,” I reply, frowning. I don’t see anything in the trees, but that doesn’t mean Phiri Dun-Ra isn’t out there watching us.

“Couldn’t we replace the part with one from another ship?” Marina asks, motioning to the dozen or so Mog scout ships spaced out along the landing zone.

Adam grunts and shoves out from underneath our Skimmer. He strides towards the nearest ship, his left hand on the handle of a Mog blaster he took off one of the warriors we killed.

“I bet all these ships have engine panels that look just like ours,” Adam grumbles. “I hope it at least hurt her messed-up hands.”

I remember Phiri Dun-Ra’s bandaged hands, scarred from coming into contact with the Sanctuary’s force field. We should’ve known better than to leave one of them alive. Even before Adam reaches the nearest ship, I’ve got a sinking feeling.

Adam ducks underneath the other ship, examining it. He sighs and makes eye contact with me before gently elbowing the armored hull above his head. The engine panel falls away like there was nothing holding it in place.

“She’s toying with us,” he says, his voice low and gravelly. “She could’ve taken a shot at us when we left the Sanctuary. Instead, she wants to keep us here.”

“She knows she can’t take us by herself,” I say, raising my voice a little, thinking maybe I can bait Phiri Dun-Ra out of hiding.

“She removed these parts, right?” Marina asks. “She didn’t just destroy them?”

“No, it looks like she took them,” Adam replies. “Probably doesn’t want to be responsible for destroying a bunch of ships in addition to getting her squadron killed. Although, keeping us here long enough for reinforcements to capture and kill us would probably get her a pass from her Beloved Leader.”

“No one’s getting captured or killed,” I say. “Except Phiri Dun-Ra.”

“Is there any other way to get our ship moving?” Marina asks Adam. “Could you . . . I don’t know? Rig something up?”

Adam scratches the back of his neck, looking around at the other ships. “I suppose it’s possible,” he says. “Depends what we can scrounge together. I can try, but I’m not a mechanic.”

“That’s one idea,” I say, looking up at the sky to see how much daylight we have left. Not much. “Or, we could go out into that jungle, track down Phiri Dun-Ra and get our part back.”

Adam nods. “I prefer that plan.”

I look at Marina. “What about you?”

I don’t even have to ask. The sweat on my arms tingles—she’s radiating an aura of cold.

“Let’s go hunting,” Marina says.