her hands on her coveralls, smearing grease and a little blood on them.
Realizing she was hurt, he stepped forward and grabbed her hand. She tried to pull it back but he frowned at her and held tighter. He examined the gash on her palm and made a face. The wound was filthy from the pipe she had been holding, and it would get infected if they weren’t careful.
“When we get on the ground, we’ll get this treated.” He waited for her response, and she shrugged carelessly before yanking her hand free and pushing by him. He stared at her and reminded himself that he was the cause of her behavior. Not wanting to get into an argument, he fell into step behind her, certain she would be able to find her way through the ship after looking at the specs with him earlier. She had a keen eye for details, and he trusted her to get them where they needed to be.
After taking many turns and descending numerous ladders, they reached the access door just above the main cargo deck. This close to the outer shell of the ship the heat from re-entry penetrated the shielding. It was another uncomfortable reminder of how poorly maintained the ship was. He glanced at his watch, noting the time and the altitude, and figured they were far enough into the descent and low enough that they weren’t going to end up toasted to a crisp.
If we make it out of this whole mess alive, I’m giving Orion a swift kick in the ass for putting us on this deathtrap.
Terror waited patiently behind Maisie who seemed intent on ignoring his very existence. Deciding he would deal with that later, he checked his watch again and started a mental countdown to touchdown on the planet’s surface. He hadn’t been to The Cur in more than three years, but he doubted the place had done much to improve their infrastructure. The airport had been a ramshackle collection of buildings and hangars with outdated radar systems. He couldn’t even imagine the disrepair three years later.
When the shuttle finally touched down, Maisie glanced back at him. He used combat hand signals to give her directions. She nodded to confirm her understanding. He moved closer, breathing in the sharp scent of the ship’s cheap soap that clung to her skin. He hated that he couldn’t provide her with more comfort and luxury, especially after all she had survived since his rescue.
Soon, he promised himself. Once they reached the safe house, he would figure out a way to get them onto a ship with better amenities like real food, hot showers and a proper bed. She might have finished her course of antibiotics and fluids, but she was still recovering from a terrible ordeal and needed space and time to rest.
The shuttle lurched forward as the tarmac brakes were latched into place, holding the aircraft still for the unloading that would soon start. The lights around them dimmed as all but one of the engines powered down. A moment later, the loud clangs and whine of an opening cargo door echoed in the ship.
Taking up a position near the rear escape hatch, he carefully disabled the pressurized seal, bleeding it off slowly until it finally released. With as little noise as possible, he pushed the escape hatch down and to the side, sliding it into the bracket mounted on the exterior that would hold it in place. He listened intently before poking his head through the hatch to examine their surroundings.
It was pitch black outside and storming violently. The torrential downpour was so heavy he could barely see the wheels of the rear landing gear. Wind howled and rain battered the ship and tarmac. The state of the weather lessened the need to perfectly time their exit. There was enough cover to allow them to escape without detection.
Turning back to Maisie, he signaled it was time to go. She followed close behind, sliding out of the ship after him and standing watch as he slipped the hatch back into place. Grimacing against the cold rain blowing into his face, he crouched and led her away from the shuttle. He used the disorganized tarmac littered with stacks of excess cargo to shield them. The dim lights on the airfield barely penetrated the dense rain and the darkness.
Getting off the airfield proved easy enough. Navigating the cramped, filthy streets of Low Track, the tenements and slums of the planet, proved much harder.