The Extinction Trials(28)

Carefully, she climbed, Alister and Cara behind her. At the top, she paced across the stone plateau and peered down, aghast at what she saw.

She wanted to be certain, so she made her way around the plateau, at times waiting until the fog rolled by like a curtain unveiling the world beyond.

On this high perch, strong winds came and went, a barrage that hit without warning. Twice, the gusts threw Maya off balance.

At the edge of the plateau, she felt a strong hand around her arm, and she turned to find Alister beckoning her away from the precipice, toward the center where Cara stood waiting.

Alister’s gruff voice came over Maya’s helmet speaker. “I think we can safely use the radios.”

“Yes,” Maya said quietly.

“I didn’t see any sign of Owen,” Cara said. “Did either of you?”

Alister shook his head and looked away.

“No,” Maya said. “But he has to be close by. After all, we’re clearly on a very small island.”





Chapter Twenty-Four





Owen woke to the sound of voices.

At first, he couldn’t make out the words. They were scratchy and garbled and interrupted intermittently by the sound of an alarm.

Owen raised his arm and read the panel.

OXYGEN LEVEL CRITICAL: 9% REMAINING.





He tapped the panel, silencing the alarm and listening to the voices over the radio.

“There’s no sign of a helo pad or landing strip.” It was Maya speaking.

“And no boat docks,” Alister said. “Or buildings, for that matter. It’s like a deserted island.”

“Maybe it hasn’t been an island for that long,” Cara said. “We’re clearly in the mountains. This looks to me like an untouched mountain range that was flooded. This station was lucky enough to be near the peak.”

“Hey,” Owen said, voice scratchy. “Can you hear me?”

“Owen,” Maya said urgently. “Where are you?”

“I’m...” Owen sat up, trying to get a bearing, but it was no use. “Oh, you know, over here with the rocks and fog and massive trees.”

“Very funny,” Maya said, her voice annoyed but also a little amused. “What happened? Are you hurt?”

“No. Or, I don’t know. I don’t think so. A gust of wind caught me and rolled me off the plateau.”

For a moment, Owen took stock. His right arm and leg ached. But the suit had provided some cushion.

The suit.

A bolt of fear ran through him: if the suit was punctured...

Quickly, he sat up and scanned it. He was caked in the dark mud, but based on the oxygen level and no signs of tears, he thought he was ok.

“Owen,” Maya said. “We’re on the plateau. Grab a fallen limb and wave it around.”

He complied, and soon, Maya said, “We see you. Stay put, we’re coming down.”

A moment later, three suited figures emerged from the cloud of fog passing by, Maya leading the way.

She held up her arm panel. “It says you have less than ten percent oxygen left.”

Owen showed her his forearm panel. “I’m at nine percent. Plenty.”

“You must have been unconscious,” Cara said. “Your body would have used less oxygen during that time. Nevertheless, we’re all still over sixty percent oxygen. We’ll use the transfer adapter to even out the supply between the four of us. And then head back.”

With that, Alister set about hooking Owen’s tank to Maya’s. He opened the valve and Owen watched as his oxygen level filled.

“I saw something from up there,” Owen said. He motioned toward the forest and the shore beyond. “A boat. Did you all see it?”

“No,” Maya said. She turned to him, her tank hooked to Cara’s. “What kind of boat?”

“It’s small. With a solar-paneled roof. It’s beached. Not far away. We should check it out while we’re here. It may be our only way off this rock.”

“It may be,” Cara said. “But we need to get you back to the station. I want to do a thorough examination.”

“I’m fine.”

“You could have a concussion. Or internal bleeding.”

Owen exhaled. “Okay.”

“We’ll take a look,” Maya said, motioning to Alister, who shrugged and added, “Why not? I always wanted a boat. The Apocalypse sounds like a great time to get one.”





Chapter Twenty-Five





Maya strode through the dense forest, dodging trees and traipsing over fallen limbs and leaves with ease. It wasn’t just because she was going downhill. Or because she’d gotten used to the terrain, though she had.

She felt a weight lifted. Owen was alive. And they had found a boat. A boat that might be the key to their survival—to getting off the small island.

The vessel wasn’t a large ship, more like a small yacht. That’s what it reminded Maya of. The hull was white and sleek, the roof arched and black, covered with solar panels which appeared undamaged. That was a good sign.

It was beached in the soft dirt bow-first. Alister climbed aboard using a small ladder that hung down to the ground, then turned back and offered Maya his hand, helping her aboard.