Alec held the sledgehammer in both fists, cocked at an angle as he crept through the narrow hallway. It was slightly curved, as if it followed the circular outer edge of the craft. Glowing panels like the one they’d seen in the hatch room were spaced about ten feet apart, providing the only light. They passed several doors, but each was locked when Alec tried them.

Mark battled his nerves as they walked, trying to be ready if anything jumped out at him. He was just about to ask Alec about the layout of a Berg—he remembered that the man had once been a pilot—when he heard a door slam up ahead, then more footsteps.

“Go!” Alec yelled.

Mark’s heart lurched and he broke into a sprint, following Alec down the curved passage. Mark could only catch a glimpse of a running shadow up ahead, but it looked like someone in one of the green suits they’d seen earlier, without the headgear. The person yelled something, but the words were indecipherable as they echoed off the walls of the hallway. It was definitely a man. Most likely the one who’d shot at them.

Engines revved all around them and the Berg jerked into motion, blasting forward in a rush of power. Mark lost his balance and crashed into a wall, bounced off, then tripped over Alec, who was sprawled on the floor. The two of them scrambled to their feet, grabbed their weapons.

“Cockpit’s right up there,” Alec yelled. “Hurry!”

He didn’t wait for a reply—the man bounded down the passage and Mark followed. They reached an open area with chairs and a table just as the man they were chasing disappeared through a round hatch into what had to be the cockpit. He started pulling the door closed, but Alec threw the sledgehammer just in time. It hit the wall next to the hatch and fell to the floor, blocking the door from closing. Mark hadn’t stopped—he ran past Alec and reached the cockpit first, leaning inside without letting himself stop to think about it.

He caught a quick glance of two pilot chairs, windows above wide panels full of instruments and dials and screens flashing information. One of the chairs was occupied by a woman frantically pressing buttons as the Berg shot forward, trees disappearing below them at an increasing rate. Mark had barely taken it all in when someone tackled him from the right, both of their bodies crashing to the floor.

Mark’s breath was knocked out of him as his attacker tried to pin him down. Then the man was whacked in the shoulder by Alec’s sledgehammer and was sent flying. He landed with a grunt of pain and Mark scrambled to his feet, struggling to suck air into his lungs. Alec grabbed the man by his green shirt and pulled him up close to his face.

“What’s going on here?” the former soldier shouted, spit flying.

The pilot continued to work the controls, ignoring the chaotic scene behind her. Mark stepped up to her, not sure what to do. He steadied himself and put all the authority he could into his voice.

“Stop this thing right now. Turn it back, take us home.”

She acted like she hadn’t heard him.

“Talk to me!” Alec was yelling at his man.

“We’re nothing!” the guy said through a pitiful moan. “We were just sent to do their dirty work.”

“Sent?” Alec repeated. “Who sent you?”

“I can’t tell you.”

Mark was listening to what was going on across the room. He was annoyed that the pilot had ignored his directions. “I said to stop this thing! Now!” He held up his wrench but felt completely ridiculous.

“Just following orders, son,” the lady replied. Not a hint of emotion in her voice.

Mark was searching for a comeback when the sound of Alec punching the man on the floor tore his attention away.

“Who sent you?” Alec repeated. “What was in those darts you shot at us? Some kind of virus?”

“I don’t know,” the man said through a whimper. “Please, please don’t hurt me.” Mark’s attention was fully on the man in the green suit now, and a sudden gray tinge washed over the man’s face, as if he’d been possessed by some ghostly presence. “Do it,” he said, almost robotically. “Take her down.”

“What?” Alec said. “What is this?”

The pilot turned her head to face Mark, who stared back, perplexed. She had the same flat, dead-looking eyes as the green-suit guy. “Just following orders.”

She reached out and pushed a lever, slamming it forward until it couldn’t go any farther. The entire Berg lurched and plunged toward the ground, the windows of the cockpit suddenly full of greenery.

Mark flew off the floor and smashed into the control panels. Something huge shattered and the roar of engines filled his ears; there was a loud crash, followed by an explosion. The Berg jerked to a stop and something hard came flying across the room and smacked Mark in the head.

He felt the pain and closed his eyes before the blood could ooze into his vision. And then he slowly faded from consciousness as he heard Alec calling his name down a dark, endless tunnel.

A tunnel; how appropriate, he thought before he blacked out completely. That was where it had started, after all.…

CHAPTER 8

Mark leans his head back against the seat of the subtrans as it speeds along. He closes his eyes, smiles. School was a load that day, but it was over. Over for two weeks. Now he can relax and chill—just veg. Play the virtbox and eat outrageous amounts of food. Hang out with Trina, talk to Trina, bug Trina. Maybe he’d just say adios to his parents and kidnap her, run away. There you go.

He opens his eyes.

She’s sitting across from him, completely ignoring him. She has no idea that he’s daydreaming about her, or even that he’s mad for her. They’ve been friends for a long time, by circumstance more than anything. When you live next door to a kid, that kid is your buddy by the rules of the universe. Male, female, alien—doesn’t matter. But how could he have known she’d turn into this beautiful thing with the hot body and the dazzling eyes? Of course, the only problem with that is that every other dude in the school likes her, too. And Trina likes being liked. That is obvious.




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