فصل 65

CHAPTER 65

Mark didn’t think he could get up to the ceiling and climb after the man—and he could be hiding anywhere, with instant and certain death pointed right at whoever came his way.

“I can’t believe it,” he whispered. How could he have let the guy rip the thing out of his hands like that? It’d happened twice in less than a day. And now there was a crazy person in the ship somewhere with the most dangerous handheld weapon ever invented.

“Come on,” he said tightly, then pulled Deedee and Trina along behind him as he started running down the hall. He looked up every few seconds, wondering if the man would suddenly appear, hanging down from the ceiling, ready to shoot. He also strained to listen for any sound other than the pounding of their own footsteps.

When they reached the cockpit the first thing Mark noticed was Alec slumped over the controls, his head buried in his arms.

“Alec!” Mark let go of Deedee’s hand and rushed toward the man. But Alec shot straight up before Mark reached him, startling him so much he almost skidded across the floor. “Whoa. You okay?” He didn’t look it. His eyes were puffy and bloodshot, his skin pale and sweaty. “I’m … I’m … hanging … in there.”

“You’re the only one who knows how to fly this thing.” Mark felt terrible for saying it—selfish. But he looked out the windows and saw the foothills above Asheville slowly moving past below them. “I mean … I don’t …” “Save your breath, kid. I know the stakes. I’m trying to find where the PFC is headquartered in the city. I just needed a rest.” Mark broke the news. “There’s a crazy dude on the ship. He stole the Transvice.”

Alec didn’t say anything. Merely screwed up his face, which had become alarmingly flushed. He looked as if he might literally burst at any second.

“Calm down,” Mark said slowly. “I’ll get it back. You just find the place.”

“I … will,” the older man said through clenched teeth. “I need … to show you some of the controls soon.”

“I’m scared,” Deedee said, standing there with her hand in Trina’s.

Mark saw that her eyes were focused on the windows—the poor thing had probably never been in a Berg before. He expected Trina to comfort the girl, but she did nothing. Just stood staring blankly at the floor again.

“Look, it’s going to be okay,” Mark said, squatting down to Deedee’s height. He’d barely done it when the ship bounced in a pocket of air. Deedee screamed again, and this time she tore her hand free from Trina and ran, bolting out of the cockpit before anyone could grab her.

“Hey!” Mark shouted, already on the move. A flash of her being vaporized almost stilled his heart. He sprinted after the girl, just catching sight of her rounding the bend of the hallway outside the cockpit. In the direction of the cargo room. “Come back!” But she was gone. Mark sped after her, but he’d only gone a few frantic steps when he caught sight of her again, standing completely still, staring at something in front of her. Mark didn’t stop until he reached Deedee’s side and saw what had her attention.

The infected man who’d stolen the Transvice was just outside the door to the cargo room, the weapon clutched in his hands. And he had it aimed at Deedee.

“Please,” Mark whispered over the thumping of his icy heart. “Please don’t.” He held out a hand toward the man, put the other on Deedee’s shoulder. “I’m begging you. She’s only—” “I know who she is!” the stranger shouted, a line of spit hitting his chin. His arms trembled and his knees shook. Matted dark hair hung down from his filthy head, framing a pale, scratched face that shone with sweat. He leaned up against the frame of the door as if he needed it to stand. “Sweet little girl? That’s probably what you think she is?” “What are you talking about?” Mark wondered how he was supposed to talk to someone this far past reason.

The man was obviously beyond any hope. His eyes said it all. “Brought the demons, she did.” He stabbed the Transvice in the air to emphasize his point. “I was in the village with her. They came down on us like the flares themselves, lightning and rain of poison. Left us to die or worse, and look at her now! Even though she was hit. All fine and cute! Laughing at us all for what she’s done.” “She had nothing to do with that,” Mark said. He could feel Deedee quaking under his hand. “Not a thing. How could she? She’s five years old at the most!” Anger seethed inside him—anger that he couldn’t hide.

“Nothing to do with it? That’s why she got shot and showed no sign of it? She’s some kind of savior to those demons, and I mean to send her back to them!” The man lurched forward. He took two long steps, almost lost his balance, but somehow stayed on his feet. The Transvice was shaking in his hands but still pointing at Deedee.

Mark’s anger dissolved and was replaced by a huge lump of fear that lodged in his throat. Tears stung his eyes, he felt so helpless. “Please … I don’t know what to say to you. But I swear she’s innocent. We went to the bunker where the Bergs came from. We found out who’s behind the disease. They aren’t demons. They were just people. We think she’s immune—that’s why she didn’t get sick.” “You shut up,” the man answered, ambling forward another couple of steps. He lifted the Transvice and aimed it at Mark’s face. “You’ve got the look about ya. Pathetic. Stupid. Weak in the knees. Demons wouldn’t even bother with someone like you. An utter waste of flesh.” He smiled, pulling his lips farther back than seemed possible. Half of his teeth were missing.

Something shifted deep down inside Mark. He knew what it was, even if he didn’t dare admit it: that bubble of insanity that was ready to burst for good. A rush of anger and adrenaline flooded him.

Rage formed in his chest and tore through his throat, released in a scream so loud he didn’t know he had the strength to create it. He rushed forward, leaping into action before the man could begin to process what was happening. Mark saw the man’s finger move, close on the trigger, but somehow, as if his burgeoning madness had momentarily heightened all of his senses one last time, Mark somehow outpaced him. He dove and swept his hand upward, knocking the weapon away as it shot a bolt of white heat. He heard the shot thump against the wall behind them.

His shoulder slammed into the man next, throwing him to the floor. Mark crashed on top of him but was already righting himself, getting his feet underneath him. He grabbed the man’s shirt and yanked him upward, tore the Transvice from his grasp and threw it to the ground. That was too easy a death for this psycho.

Mark started dragging him down the hallway, aware on some level that he himself had crossed into territory from which he wasn’t sure he’d come back.