wouldn’t talk to me for a month. It would have been longer Nikolas, except that’s when Mom died of the virus . . .”
Caroline’s voice trailed off.
“Hmm,” Caroline cleared her voice. “Anyway. Just a hint to Tim. Don’t try to help her—”
Daniel waved, then pounded the floor. Everyone froze.
Red lights swirled across the ceiling. All heads turned to the counter, looking for the source. A metallic antenna edged over the counter.
“Mmmmm,” Brandy whimpered.
They did their best to shrivel into the plastic floor.
The antenna was followed by a flat disc, bordered in flashing red lights. The antennas probed the sky, tapped the counter, and stopped.
“MMMMMM,” Brandy’s whimper upgraded.
“Nick Lyons?” the drone said.
“Yeah . . .” Nick said slowly.
“I am with the Colorado Spaceport’s Medical Emergency unit. Due to a lack of concern for other life forms and a propensity toward violent behavior, I am to administer the neural inhibitor, R-5235—”
“Aw geez.” Nick pushed himself from the counter.
Suddenly, the metal antennas egg-beated the air and retreated.
“Where did it go?” said Brandy. “What’d you do Nick?”
A warm drop plopped on Nick’s hand. Everyone’s eyes moved back to the counter. The antennas returned, but the rest of the ambudrone was trapped between a row of canine teeth. The mouth unhinged and squeezed the ambudrone down. Flashing red lights were the last to be seen.
Gunk. Gunk. Gunk. A membrane crown unfolded behind its ears.
“REEEIGGHH!!” The scuccas lifted to their hind legs.
“They found us,” Grand yelled. “To the shuttle!”
Grand had suddenly appeared with a massive battle axe. Where from? Nick couldn’t tell, but there were more pressing matters. Like how fast could he make it to the shuttle while maintaining all bodily functions. Everyone flung themselves through the door, down the steps, and onto the tarmac. There, off in the distance was a lone shuttle with the title: “Mason.” Nick charged ahead, reached the stairway first, and flew up with his fist aimed for the access button.
Access denied.
Access denied.
Access denied.
Access denied.
“Keycard. Keycard. Grand has it!” Nick turned to the spaceport. On cue, glass exploded followed by a mass of trench coat and battle axe flying through the midnight air. Grand tumbled inches from the shuttle. He groaned and fell unconscious.
“Get the card! Grand’s keycard. It’s green.” Nick pointed. Haley and Xanthus were already trolling through pockets.
The scuccas fumbled through the new opening.
“Here.” Haley pressed it into Nick’s shaking hand.
Beep. Beep. Access granted. Welcome, Mr. Lyons.
“Get inside. Now!” Nick commanded.
Hands grabbed for Grand and the axe. With much heaving and iron scraping, they rolled him through the hatchway and tumbled in themselves. Nick punched the door closed symbol.
BAAANGH! Several bulges emerged from the other side of the door. The scuccas had rammed the hull.
“We need to call the police, Nick.” Tim tried to catch his breath.
Talons started to rake the hull, looking for any sign of weakness.
“Nick?” said Haley, wiping Grand’s blood off her cheek. “What are we gonna do?”
BAAANGH! BAAANGH! They rammed again.
“Nick, the police?” said Tim.
Nick scanned the shuttle. Fear was on everyone’s face as they listened to three monstrous freaks clawing at the hull. Nick looked down to Grand. He wasn’t going to wake up any time soon. Come on, Grand. What are we supposed to do?
“Police, Nick?” Tim said.
Suddenly, Nick understood.
This was all on him.
Nick got to his feet and looked to the front of the shuttle.
“Police, Nick?” Tim repeated.
“Move.” Nick pressed Tim to one side.
“Are you listening to me?”
Control panels lit at the presence of a human. Hello. Welcome to the Mason.
BAAANGH! The shuttle rocked.
The control board was a dizzying array of gauges and lights. After a few scans, Nick found a hexagon-shaped disc with a green light emanating from it. He pressed his hand on it.
It blinked in red letters: Access denied. Retinal verification required.
Nick stood straight, flicking a stray bit of hair away. There was a small circle with one digital eye. He looked back at Haley, and then Grand. She read his mind. They picked up Grand by his massive shoulders and lifted him to the retinal scanner. It was strange handling his grandfather’s head like some bearded football, but he didn’t really have a choice. Nick pried an eyelid open, revealing an unfixed pupil. The retinal system began to scan.
Welcome, Mr. Lyons, to the Mason Transworld Shuttle. Forgive me for asking, but you seem a bit peakish. Are you feeling well this evening? Ibuprofen perhaps?
Grand’s chin bobbled to his chest.
BAAANGH! BAAANGH! The scuccas continued to search for the hull’s weakness.
“Nick!” Tim yelled. “Are you listening to me? Grand’s