Midnight Sky (Dark Sky Book 2) (22 page)

Sawyer’s face was blank, save for a twitch his in jaw. Riley put his hand on the small of my back and nudged me toward the
Meridian
. He led me to the rope on the far left and took the rope on the middle, keeping Poacher away from me. We started climbing without ceremony, and I ignored the lewd comments of the pirates below me by concentrating on the climb.
 

Before resurfacing to the Barren, we’d been fed stale bread and leathery meat. Any cuts and scrapes we had were patched up, since Ryland had promised a long, arduous day. He was right. Even with the little strength I regained from the so-called food, my arms ached a little bit more with every foot. At the halfway point, I was sweating. Even Riley and the muscular, stout-necked Poacher were panting from exertion.

The climb seemed like it would never end. Every step strained my shoulders as I pulled and ached my legs as I bent them against the dented hull.
 

Don’t think about the pain,
I told myself.
The machine could be in there. Find it, figure out what to do with it. Think about closing the Breach and stopping the Vesper. Think about Abby.

Images of her lying in the cabin on the
Dauntless Wanderer
, thick blankets doing nothing to stop her chills, swarmed my vision. Her too pale skin and eyes that were losing their green to the bloody crimson of a Hellion. The hurt and pain that couldn’t be stopped with any of Moira’s medicine. I had to find the machine and get it working as soon as I could. If something happened to Abby while I was gone…

I forced myself through the rest of the climb. By the time I reached the ledge and pulled myself onto the main deck, my bones felt like rubber. Riley and Poacher climbed over beside me, breathing heavily and sitting down to rest their legs. Riley glanced at me, concern lighting his brilliant blue eyes.

“Not as fun as climbing the
Dauntless,
” he told me with a smirk.

I gave him a wobbly grin, then looked over the railing. Sawyer, Gemma, and Ryland were making their way up the rope. On the ground, Nash and the other Dogs looked like figures no larger than my pinky. I gulped and turned away from the railing, lifting my gaze up to the command bridge.
 

“Can we walk up there safely?” I asked Poacher.

He grunted as he got to his feet. “Slant’s not as bad as it looks,” he told me.
 

I found that hard to believe, since the command bridge looked so off-kilter it was practically vertical. But Poacher crouched against the patchy-stained deck, put his hands in the splintered gaps on the wood, and used them to scale toward the bridge. I watched him move steadily, turning the gaps into hand and foot holds. I dreaded having to climb again, but time wasn’t a luxury I could afford. The sky was slate grey, so I assumed we were still in daylight, but the snow fell heavier now. If we were caught in a blizzard on the way back, it would be all too easy for Ryland to leave us to freeze.

So I started climbing again, grateful my gloves were thick and I wouldn’t get slivers in my fingertips.
 

Thankfully, this ascent was shorter than the previous one. Ten minutes later, we reached the window of the command bridge. Every window was broken, so getting in was simple. Standing on the slant was a little difficult, but I gripped the console to steady myself. Riley and Poacher moved to the back of the room and started pulling on the hand-wheel to open the door. I stood at the helm and waited for the others. Sawyer and Gemma trailed behind Ryland, both looking unsteady compared to the large pirate’s smooth gait. A couple minutes later, Nash arrived with two more Stray Dogs, all of them looking content to sit on the deck and wait for the energy to return to their limbs.
 

The door screeched beside me, Riley and Poacher working together to pull it open. The darkness beyond it was gaping and uninviting, but there was no way I could turn back now.
 

“Where would your parents build this machine?” Sawyer asked when he came up beside me.

“Somewhere with a lot of space,” I told him. “They would need it somewhere secure, like a holding facility in case something went wrong.”
 

“Like here?” Riley called from inside the door.

I slid past Poacher and stood next to Riley on a catwalk that led deeper into the ship. Bolted onto the wall in a dusty plastic casing was a map laying out the entire ship. He was pointing at the starboard side, where I thought the fuel tank would be. Turned out it was an empty space labeled “ENGINEERING BAY.”

“That has to be it,” I breathed, unable to keep the excitement from my voice. I reached around my belt to find a torch.
 

“How do you know for sure this thing is there?” Poacher grumbled.
 

“We trust her judgment,” Riley answered, as if that was the only answer needed.
 

Poacher snorted. “I say we split up. Find this thing on our own, then find each other after.”

“And how long do you think that will take?” Sawyer challenged. “Before you decide to stab us in the back, or after?”

Poacher growled, but Ryland stepped in.

“Relax, boys. The former captain has a point. We’re not the most trustworthy folk on this side of the Aon.”

At least he was honest.
 

“Still, we know the ship. I can tell you we’ve never been in the engineering bay, because no one can get in. It’s got some lock on it. Can’t get in unless you have a key.”

A key.
The key.
 

My hand went around my throat, grabbing the skeleton key and pulling it from my shirt. “You mean a key like this?”

For once, Ryland seemed surprised. Speechless, even. I tucked the key under my collar and took out a small screwdriver from my belt. I unscrewed the bolts and pulled the plastic cover free, taking the map from its place. I pulled apart a torch for Riley and handed it and the map to him. I took another torch out and gave it to Gemma when she slipped through the doorway onto the catwalk. Nash was right behind her, but Sawyer held back to scrutinize Ryland.
 

“Not coming?”

The callous pirate chuckled and slapped his hands on his thighs. “These old bones aren’t what they used to be. A man needs his rest.”

“You gave your word,” Sawyer reminded dangerously.
 

“And I kept it,” countered Ryland. You’re on the damn ship, aren’t you? Besides, you’re a Kendric. It’s your word I can’t trust.”

Sawyer didn’t flinch, but I knew the insult ate at him like acid.
 

“Look, if you’re so afraid of the dark, keep my men.” His grin twisted. “You can feel like a real captain for once before I take the
Dauntless
from you.”

Sawyer’s hand went to his belt, wrapping around the cutlass’ hilt. The Dogs surrounding him took a step forward. Ryland smiled and stood there, daring him to make a move.

Nash came up behind his friend and put his hand on his shoulder and whispered in his ear. Whatever he said made Sawyer relax, if only by an inch.

“You’re staying right here,” commanded Sawyer. “If I come back and find you’re gone, I’ll assume you’re betraying us. And then I’ll kill you.”

Ryland clucked his tongue. “Look at you, trying to make threats when you have no mettle. It’s cute, and pathetic. I’m embarrassed for you.”

Sawyer tried to take a step forward, but Nash yanked him back toward the door. Ryland ordered his men to go with us, and they followed in a sullen mood.

Riley led the group, moving down the catwalk at an easy pace. About thirty feet later, he stopped at the end where the metal ladder was. He folded the map to put in his pocket. As he turned to descend the metal rungs, he grinned at me.

“At least we’re going down this time.”

I smiled. It was good to feel one on my face again, and to see one on his. When Riley’s head was out of sight, I walked over and peered down. The ladder’s angle wasn’t terrible, he seemed to have a steady grip, and the second floor wasn’t very far. I waited until Riley was nearly at the bottom before I followed him.

As I went down, the temperature began to drop. We hadn’t been much warmer since getting into the
Meridian
, but at least we were out of the wind. Down in the belly of the ship however, it was like walking into an icebox. I shivered and bunched my shoulders, searching for warmth that wasn’t there.

“Here,” Riley said. He handed me the map and torch. I held them both in front of me, reading the layout the same way I would the design for a machine or power source. It was a straight walk to the engineering bay, but it was a long one, and all my torches wouldn’t brighten half the shadows in here.

My thoughts were cut off when Riley pressed himself against my back, wrapping his warm body around me and rubbing my arms.

“Feeling warmer?”

I barely heard his question, so absorbed by the safety of his arms and his warm breath through my hair. He leaned closer to whisper in my ear.

“We need a backup plan, Claire,” he said. “In case we get there and the machine doesn’t exist.”

I knew he was right, but I couldn’t think straight. I didn’t want to.

Boots stomped heavily on the concrete floor. I pulled away from Riley, the cold settling back in almost instantly. I faced him, but could only hold his eyes for a moment.

“We’ll find the bay first,” I told him. “Anything else will have to come later.”

I saw him nod briefly before I handed back the map. Even if I had a better understanding of it now, I wanted Riley holding something other than me. I didn’t want the distraction, especially after kissing Sawyer only hours ago. My emotions went haywire around the two men, and the last thing I needed was to lose focus of what I was here to do.
 

Pushing Riley and Sawyer to the back to my mind, I started walking at the head of the group with the torch raised high. As I walked beside Riley, who seemed to know exactly where he was going, I took in the expanse of the
Capital Meridian.
 

Wind whistled through fist-sized holes in the ceiling. Trickles of snow billowed in, dancing in front of broken piping and cooling fans. The light from the holes was faint and didn’t reach the concrete floor we walked on. I shone the torch to my right, seeing overturned tables and broken crates lying next to open, cavernous doors. Between the doors and the labeling on the walls, it was easy to see what each room once held.
 

Blocky letters spray-painted on the walls told me the closest rooms were gunrooms for junior officers. Farther down the hall were the Armories, which held nothing but empty metal shelves. We passed the double doors of the general mess and the single door of the officer’s mess with toppled chairs, the major and minor infirmaries with ravaged cabinets, and the rec room with broken pool tables and a floor covered with scattered playing cards. Each door was as bland and lifeless as the rest of the ship, nothing more than a seven by seven foot aperture in a bolted wall with ladders beside them. It all had a cold, empty feeling to it that spoke more of business than adventure.

I turned the torch to the left, where the rooms had the same vacant feel from the outside, though I could see more of the interiors since I was walking closer to them. The floor of the map room was littered in discarded papers held down by overturned chairs. Power Room One had broken piping and torn out wires on the control panels and circuit breakers. The Repair Room had walls of empty hooks, the tools long gone.
 

Staff, solider, and officer quarters resided close to the stern, sheets removed from the beds and personal chests opened and looted. The laundry room was empty of linens and clothes. Supply rooms were stripped clean. The kitchens and food stores contained only splintered crates, barrels, and moldy piles of food on the floor.

The only things I didn’t see were bodies. Most marauders weren’t sentimental when it came to corpses, so I found it hard to believe they would have decently removed or buried the dead. The dark stains splattered on the walls and the drag marks on the dusty floor were the only indication that violence had erupted here.
 

I didn’t want to think about what happened to the bodies, or why they were gone. The entire ship felt too eerie, and I had no doubt the dead had left their ghosts behind. I wondered what it was like to be on this vessel when it was in its prime. It must have been a beehive, filled with busy workers running back and forth to their jobs. I imagined that the Sky Guard soldiers were bored in the beginning, feeling safe in their strong vessel though the threat of marauders was constant. Explorers, Electricians, and engineers must have worked from dusk until dawn, planning out contingencies and scenarios, taking readings on the deck and sending messages to Westraven. The Discovery had been an expedition that spanned months. The risk of mutiny must have grown every day the explorers found nothing.

Maybe the explorers became nervous, walking these wide halls and seeing the impatient, homesick soldiers glaring at them. The officers would have been getting impatient as well. They could have panicked and pushed the engineers to work faster, creating a machine that would open a new door to another dimension to appease the Sky Guard.
 

There must have been cheers that day. The soldiers could join in the excitement, see new life, and have hope for the future of their families. The explorers would be relieved and thrilled they’d accomplished their mission. The engineers and Electricians would be able to rest.

But the world they found wasn’t what they expected. I imagined the dimension beyond the Breach was dark and cloudy, since Hellions couldn’t survive in the light. The crew of the
Meridian
would know that our future generations wouldn’t survive there.
 

The marauders must have come through the Breach soon after that. It would have been chaos, so many people running to do something, to fight the pirates and the Hellions at the same time. The
Meridian
was a strong ship, but it would only be able to take so many hits. How many people died here before they returned to Westraven?