The Extinction Trials(57)



At the end of the corridor, they found an interior staircase that led down to a level that was full of mechanical equipment. Owen sensed that they had reached the belly of the beast, the guts that had once made the ship run. But they were decomposing now. The parts were dusty and quiet, some beginning to rust, wires and hoses drooping under the weight of gravity and time.

As he raked his flashlight over the scene, he felt as though he were revealing a tomb that had long since been sealed.

“I think we found the engine room,” Owen called over the radio. “Or part of it.”

He cupped his hands to his mouth. “Hello! Hello! We’re here to help!”

Silence.

Owen and Maya’s footsteps echoed on the metal decking as they explored deeper into the cavernous space. Overhead drops of water dripped into his hair every now and then, as though the ship was weeping at its demise.

At the next level down, they found the engines. There was no one here, and it looked like no one had been for a very long time.

“No one in the engine room,” he said over the radio.

“Copy that,” Will said. “Be advised: the storm seems to be picking up speed. I think you all ought to get out of there. Assuming it has the same effects as the storm had on the island.”

Maya shined her flashlight in Owen’s face. “We need to search the containers.”

He considered that for a moment. “There are hundreds of them. Maybe thousands.”

“Then we need to hurry.”

She spun on her heel and marched away from him before he could argue. This was becoming a pattern.

In that moment, Owen felt a surge of adrenaline—the thrill of racing the clock, of having a challenge where lives were depending on him. He felt like he did back at the station. This ship was like a burning building to him. They had to find what they needed and get out—before it was too late.

At the metal hatch nearby, Maya spun the wheel and pushed, but it wouldn’t budge.

“Help me,” she called to him.

He added his weight and the metal doorway groaned as it cracked open. They pushed, and finally, it gave way, revealing a narrow catwalk with a metal mesh floor and railing tied together with rubberized rope. It was open to the sky above, and from that perch, Owen could see to the bottom of the ship, which was flat and held at least three rows of containers below them.

Over the radio, he said, “We’re in the hold immediately off the engine compartment. We’re going to start searching.”

“Hurry,” Will said. “Please hurry.”

From the catwalk, they couldn’t reach any of the containers. But Owen did notice that they were numbered. And they seemed to be in sequence. The ends facing them were labeled with words in white block letters: ARC Technologies.

At the end of the catwalk, they found a staircase that descended. He and Maya went fast now, taking risks on the unstable metal stairs until they reached the bottom.

Owen hadn’t been able to see it before, but he realized now that the nearest container was already open. The double doors were cracked just enough for him to slip inside. His flashlight illuminated the cramped space. There were at least a dozen glass chambers inside.

Maya radioed what they had found to the ship.

The next container was open as well, and it contained chambers too. And that’s exactly what they found all along the row of containers.

Luckily, there was a narrow gap between the containers every seven columns. It was just big enough for them to slip through, a walkway between the towering stacks.

Quickly, Owen and Maya ran to the next row of containers. The doors to these metal boxes were also open. Inside, they found what Owen assumed were servers.

It occurred to him then what the container ship was carrying: parts for more ARC stations. That’s precisely what the chambers and servers would build.

At the next row of containers, only about half were open. Inside they found the alcoves like the ones they’d found in Station 17, where Owen assumed the proctors had recharged themselves.

He turned to Maya. “We’re striking out here. It’s nothing but components for building a station.”

“We need to keep going,” she said.

“Maya, we are out of time.”





Chapter Forty-Five





Maya stared at the containers stacked in columns and rows. The answers they needed were here—she sensed it.

“Maya,” Owen said, urgently now. “We need to go.”

He turned and took a step towards the staircase to the catwalk, perhaps hoping his movement would inspire Maya to follow.

“Wait,” Maya called to him.

The answer was there, right at the edge of her mind’s grasp.

“We’re out of time!” Owen called back to her, one hand on the railing now.

“Out of time,” she whispered, turning the phrase over in her mind.

That was it.

Time.

She took the pocket watch out of her pocket and held it out toward Owen. “Why did they give me this?”

He bunched his eyebrows. “What?”

“They moved the hands of the watch. Time is the answer. They gave us this location—and they gave us another number, thanks to this watch. We find the container with these numbers, and we find what they left for us.”

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