The Extinction Trials(56)

Louder, he called out, “Hello? Hello?”

Windows ran the length of the left wall of the bridge, looking out over the ship and the sea. There was a row of computer stations that looked antiquated to Maya.

Beyond the bank of computers were four glass chambers similar to what they had found in the station. All were open. The glass on two of the domes was cracked.

On the floor, in the middle of the bridge, was a person—a man, Maya thought—lying face-down, unmoving.

Owen held out a hand to Maya as he moved toward the figure. With his foot, he kicked the body over.

It was Bryce. Or another Bryce.

“We found a proctor,” Owen said. “He seems to be disabled.”

“Is the ship functional?” Will asked.

Owen surveyed the control panels, wiping dust off the keyboards and switches. “Everything is off. Looks like maybe it’s out of power. Nobody’s used it in a while.”

“Is anyone else there?” Will asked.

“Not on the bridge,” Owen said.

Through the window, Maya caught sight of something that made her heart stop.

“Guys, we have a problem. There’s a storm forming.”

As she watched it, the storm’s funnel darkened, growing more defined. It was strengthening. And it was coming directly for them.





Chapter Forty-Four





Owen dashed to the window and studied the storm for a moment, trying to gauge its speed and direction. Both were very, very bad news for them.

It was going to hit the ship, there was little doubt in his mind.

The question was, what would happen when it did? On the island, Owen had never had a vantage point to see the storm that was lashing it, but he assumed it was much like what was coming for the ship—wind and rain.

Something in the previous storm, or the air on the island, had killed the older man who had left the bunker. The environmental suits had protected Owen and the rest of the team. They had been able to remove them out on the open sea—away from the island and the storm. But here and now, the suits were practically empty. They wouldn’t be much help.

There was only one solution.

Still staring at the approaching storm, Owen said, “Maya, you need to get out of here. I’m right behind you.”

She replied instantly. “No. We’ll finish this together, and then we’ll get out of here. It’ll go twice as fast.”

He held his hands out, readying himself to debate her, but she simply turned and marched out of the bridge, calling back to him, “The longer we talk, the less time we have.”

He caught up to her on the rickety staircase which she was descending more recklessly now.

They ducked through the door on the floor below the bridge and found what looked like a mess hall. The tables were covered in dust. Plates sat empty—not a morsel of food on them. Here and there, empty ARC ration packs dotted the tables.

Who had eaten those rations? Survivors from another station? Or the personnel that had staffed this Escape Hatch? And if so, what had happened to them?

The kitchen beside the dining area was empty as well, and so were the freezers and fridges. From the looks of it, they had been off for a while.

At the next level down, Owen and Maya found a maze of narrow corridors. It reminded Owen of being inside a mechanical beast, as though he were simply walking through the veins and arteries that ran deeper into the organism.

He opened the first door and found a mechanical closet. The next door opened to a stateroom with a narrow bed beneath the window that looked out on the containers. It also held a desk and a small bathroom.

“It looks like we’re now in the crew quarters section,” Maya said over the radio.

“Acknowledged,” Will said. “Be careful.”

“Hello!” Owen shouted.

There was no response.

He backed out into the corridor and opened the stateroom across the way. It was empty as well.

The next room was too.

And the next one.

Over the radio, Owen heard their ship’s outboard motors roar to life.

He shared a glance with Maya.

“Are you all leaving?” she asked over the radio.

“No,” Will said quickly. “We’re going to move around to the other side of the ship to get a view of the storm.”

At the next stateroom, they found a body. It was a woman, and she was heavily decomposed. She was wearing the same ribbed sweater Maya and Owen had been given in the ARC station after waking up. A stack of empty ration packs lay on the floor. Owen scanned the room, but there was nothing else of interest. The desk had no papers or journals on it.

“We found a body,” Maya said. “Female. Looks like she passed away a long time ago.”

They searched the remainder of the crew quarters but couldn’t find anyone else.

The sight of the woman had unnerved Owen. Had she been stationed at this ship? If so, for how long?

Or had she traveled here on yet another vessel that was now gone—was that why the rope ladder was unrolled? If so, where was that other vessel? Did her cohort strand her here? And what happened to the proctor on the bridge? The entire scene was like a mystery with no clues.

Deeper into the crew quarters, the light from the window in the outer door was fading. Owen clicked on the flashlight and Maya did the same.