The Hunt - Megan Shepherd Page 0,110

her right shoulder. She returned to the main cabin and tossed the rope of hair on the control panel in front of Bonebreak. The others paused in their conversations.

“Here. It’s done. But I want to stop at Armstrong first.” From the corner of her eye she saw Mali whispering the plan in Rolf’s ear. “For Nok and Rolf’s sake, and also to bury Lucky’s body.”

She squeezed the notebook harder. This was one last thing she could do for him, make sure his body rested in peace.

Bonebreak shrugged. “We need supplies anyway. To Armstrong we go, then, childrens.”

He shifted the controls and the ship veered sharply upward. Cora braced against the back of his chair as he hummed a strangely melodic little tune to himself in his crackling voice. For a while, the ship rumbled on through space. An hour passed, maybe two, and Cora clutched Lucky’s notebook the whole time.

“Hold on tight,” Bonebreak said at last. “Entry into Armstrong’s atmosphere can be bumpy.”

“We should sit in a circle,” Rolf said. “If we hold hands, it will provide stability.”

Leon snorted. “I’m not doing that ‘Kumbaya’ shit.”

“A circle is the most stable shape,” Rolf said, and sat next to him. He held out his hand to Nok, who scooted over between him and Anya and held out her hands. Mali scooted in too, and everyone linked hands. Cora looked over her shoulder at the white tarp, and a sharp pain stabbed through her.

“Come on, Leon.” She reached out.

He grumbled again as he scooted over, taking her hand in his right and Rolf’s in his left. The ship suddenly pitched to the left, and they all held hands tighter, swaying with the movements.

“So what’s this Armstrong place like?” Nok asked cautiously.

“It’s where they send humans who turn nineteen and have been obedient,” Cora said, trying to sound optimistic in case Bonebreak was listening. “Like a reward. It’s a sort of nature preserve where they can govern themselves and live how they want.”

Bonebreak glanced over his shoulder; she couldn’t read his expression.

“Another fucking zoo,” Leon grumbled.

“No,” Cora added. “There aren’t any bars, and the people there aren’t being watched. It’s the size of a small moon, and it’s habitable.”

“But if it’s habitable,” Nok said, “why don’t any Kindred inhabit it? Why leave it for us?”

Cora could feel the uneasiness in Nok’s words, and she felt uneasy too. She lowered her voice. “We won’t leave you there if it isn’t safe, Nok. I promise.” And then she raised her voice for Bonebreak to hear. “The Kindred are an astral species, not terrestrial.”

But that uneasy feeling reached the tear in the back of Cora’s head, throbbing. She hoped she wasn’t leading Nok and Rolf—and all of them—into a situation even worse than the one they’d just come from.

The ship dipped sharply. Nok shrieked, and they gripped hands harder. Bonebreak leaned forward, scratching his head, and then shoved a control upward. The ship pitched again. Cora had the feeling of free-falling. That awful rise of her stomach that made her just want to push everything down, to ball up tight, but she didn’t let go of either hand. Then the free fall ended abruptly, and there was a rumbling that made her legs and arms jiggle.

“Ever flown before?” Leon barked to Bonebreak.

“I did kill the best pilot,” Bonebreak muttered at the controls.

The ship keeled sharply to the right. Cora couldn’t see the viewing panel from her place on the floor, but the colors had changed. No longer the dim shine of distant stars, but bright flashing colors, as if they were flying straight into a sunrise. Pressure built in her ears. It was the same pressure as when Cassian had materialized her out of the cage, making her body feel like it was breaking up into thousands of tiny particles, until it was all she could do to squeeze her eyes shut.

Then, abruptly, it stopped.

The ship made a winding-down sound, and the temperature cooled back to normal. Bonebreak hit a few more buttons, seeming rather satisfied with himself. “There,” he said. “Perfect docking.”

The ship lurched to the right, and Nok screamed.

Bonebreak adjusted a lever, and the ship righted.

“Now. Perfect docking.”

“I think I’m going to be sick,” Rolf muttered, looking pale.

Bonebreak hit a few buttons, and the door opened. A curious sound came from the open doorway.

A sh, sh, sh that at first Cora thought might be ocean waves. A gust of wind suddenly blew up through the hold, carrying fine, sandy dust and thin, but breathable, air.