Stones: Experiment (Stones #3) (30 page)

Another blast hits the ship.

This time, she hears the distinct sound of metal tearing. A fine spray of liquid shoots out of the darkness, covering her face. The stench of gasoline penetrates the air. Water starts to collect on the floor of the corridor. It’s rising fast, already past her ankles.

She turns to face the metal ring and grips it with both hands.

Righty tighty, lefty loosey.

Pushing hard, she turns it counterclockwise, half a turn to the left.

The door swings open into a dark room full of tiny lights, like a city at night from the air. Shadows dart back and forth. The low hum of machinery hangs in the dank air.

A man’s voice barks at her.

“Secure the door!”

Hands pull her away, and the door slams shut behind her.

Other hands grab her shoulders, pulling her close. “We’ve been hit.” Eva’s mouth comes close to Jessica’s ear. “Not just shoulder cannons this time. They’re dropping depth charges from the air.”

Voices of men and women pierce the darkness.

“How’s the hull doing?”

“Breached in three places, but holding.”

“What about auto-pumps?”

“Engaged.”

“I smell petrol. What’s the status of the tanks?”

“The one on the right’s ruptured. Leaking a small amount of fuel into the ship. It should self seal in a few minutes.”

“If we don’t get hit again. Kill the lights.”

“Already did.”

The voices stop. The hum of machinery grows louder.

Jessica’s eyes finally adapt to the darkness, and she scans the control room of the ship. Five people sit in swivel chairs staring at consoles, occasionally jumping up to reach for a lever or a dial. Tubes and cables dangle from the ceiling. A man on the far right is asking questions and giving orders.

“Prepare for rapid descent,” he says.

“Too soon.” A woman’s voice answers. “Need more time for the auto-repair to fix the breaches.”

“We don’t have more time. They’ve pinpointed our position. The next one is going to drop right on top of us.”

The ship pitches sharply left, rolling three of the crew members out of their chairs. Jessica loses her footing on the wet floor and falls backward. Twisting, her cheek hits the metal deck, which is covered in three inches of water. The water’s bitter taste fills her mouth, and she spits it out, pulling herself back up into a sitting position.

“Kill all engines except rear thrusters.” The commander jumps to his feet, using both hands to grab a metal bar welded to the wall above him. “Dive! Dive! Dive!”

“But we could all be—”

The commander slams his hand on the console of the woman next to him.

The ship lurches at a sharp angle.

A metallic object hits Jessica in the back of the head. Sparks flash before her eyes. A sickening crack of bone. Sudden nausea pours over her. She falls forward and retches the contents of her stomach on the way to the deck. With the pulse rifle still slung over her shoulder, its barrel slams against her skull.

Darkness closes on her, cutting off all sensory perception except for a ringing in her ears and voices floating in and out of her consciousness.

“I need a damage report.”

Jessica, where are you?

“Hull’s been deep-breached in quadrant 5R. Damage is too large for self-seal.”

Can you hear me?

“Jed wasn’t back there, was he?”

Why won’t you answer me?

“Afraid so. He’s not picking up his c’link.”

A warm glow appears in the darkness. Opening her eyes, Jessica is lying in a fetal position at the foot of an immense tree, resting comfortably between two exposed roots. Vines covered with green leaves hang from its branches within a few feet from her face. She reaches up and strokes a leaf and the silky white fuzz on its surface. The chatter of birds plays above her, their sweet voices piercing the pristine silence.

The fragrance of fresh raspberries wafts past her.

Don’t leave me, Jessica. Please.

Raising herself up on her elbows, her gaze sweeps in a circle, searching for the source of the familiar voice.

“I’m here, Matt.” Jessica reaches for a vine and pulls herself up, leaning against the tree for support. “Where are you?”

They’re coming closer. Don’t let them kill me.

Jessica steps away from the tree and walks through the maze of vines engulfing her, emerging into bright sunlight.

She stares in amazement.

The great green tree with its hanging leaves stands alone on an endless desert, an oasis of life in a sea of undulating sand dunes the color of deep rusty red. Climbing to the top of the nearest rise, she scans the surroundings from horizon to horizon, looking for Matt.

Come now, before it’s too late.

Her pulse quickens.

Cupping both hands to her mouth, she shouts. “Matt! I can hear you!” Her voice spreads out across the wide expanse until it dissipates into silence.

No answer.

She tries again. “Tell me where you are.”

The still air of the desert stirs, lifting Jessica’s brown locks from her shoulders. A drop of water splashes on her face. Thunder rolls in the distance, far away across the dunes. She looks up at a clear blue sky. An advancing front of dark clouds boils above her head, the leading edge broad and deep as it swallows the sky above her, plunging her into shadow.

The shifting air turns to wind, and the isolated drops of rain become a driving storm. Thunder rings again, this time much closer. A long vein of lightning breaks from the clouds overhead, splitting into multiple fingers as it touches the sand only a few meters away.

Jessica, I love you. Never forget.

Another bolt of lightning strikes on the other side, sending a shockwave through the air and causing a tingle to run the length of her spine. Panic surges through her chest, tightening muscles and making it difficult to breathe. Rain beats on her head and into her eyes. It’s hard to see.

Breaking into a run, Jessica traverses the ridge of the dune and descends its slope on the other side, stumbling, falling, rolling and rising to her feet. At the bottom, she keeps running in a straight line up the side of another wave of sand.

“Matt! Where are you?”

No answer.

When she crests the top of the dune, she sees him.

Below her, Matt stands in a small depression between two high ridges of sand. Loose clothing on his body flows and ripples like the movement of water.

Jessica lunges, falling again and rolling down the steep sandy slope until she comes to a rest at the bottom only a few feet from Matt. Thunder shoots out of the clouds overhead, striking the top of a dune a dozen meters away. She claps her hands over her ears and looks up at Matt.

He doesn’t notice. His arms reach up to the sky, eyes wide with fear, a look of horror spreading across his face. His mouth drops open.

She hears him clearly now, his voice inside her head.

Goodbye.

“I’m here, Matt.” Staggering to her feet, she wraps her arms him like a mother protecting her child from imaginary monsters.

But he’s not there. Her arms are empty. He’s nothing but a holo image.

In the pounding rain and raging wind, her hands move back and forth through Matt’s body.

“Matt, where are you? Please tell me.” She brings her face close to his and looks into his eyes.

The same eyes drop for a moment and look up, staring straight ahead, almost as if he can see her. His lips move.

I love you. Always.

Tears stream down Jessica’s face. “Matt, what are they doing to you? Try to listen. Talk to me.”

Matt stares ahead, eyes growing larger, some horror approaching.

In the pounding rain, Jessica’s long brown hair is soaked and dripping, her chest heaving in and out with great sobs. She reaches a trembling hand up and moves her fingers in the air past his forehead, along the bridge of his nose, over his lips. Her hand traces a line on his chest, stopping at his sternum.

And then she remembers.

Drawing close to his face, she begins to whisper.

“Listen to me, Matt. Use your armor. Press on your chest. Right here.” She pushes in the open air on his chest at the sternum, looking into his eyes, hoping for some sign of recognition. “Matt. Try to hear me.”

But there’s no response.

Unable to hold back the emotion any longer, her head falls back. Staring at the sky into the beating rain, she lets her mouth drop open. A long wail erupts from her throat, lost in the sound of the wind whipping across empty dunes.

Matt begins to fade, as if slowly dissolved by the wind and rain. When all trace of him is gone, Jessica drops to her knees and stares at the empty spot in the sand where he had stood.

Bending, she cups the wet sand in her hands. Water runs down her cheeks and drips off her lips.

Please don’t let him die.

M
att beats on the side of the glass sphere with his fists, keeping an eye on the two blurry forms standing on the other side. He reaches out to them with his whole being, yearning for a sign that they see him. Calling them closer.

The larger one lifts her hand with the palm facing toward him.

They see me!

His heart leaps, and he spurs himself on to make even more noise.

Within seconds, his hands are heavy and weak. They drop, unable to move, turning hard and lifeless. With his last remaining strength, he pushes back, trying to stay alert. A tidal wave of sleep and fatigue crashes down, forcing his eyelids to close. His arms and legs are no longer part of him, and they float away from his torso. His body and spirit go limp, stripped away layer by layer until they melt into the viscous liquid.

For a time, he slips into a void of nothing, not even blackness.

Vague images appear in his mind.

Slowly, it comes into focus. A single brown circle with a black dot in the middle, beautiful beyond words. Then another identical circle appears next to it, each of them enclosed by a sea of white.

The image pulls on Matt. He yearns to touch it, to become one with it. When he tries, the image vanishes.

In time, it reappears, faintly at first, and then brighter and clearer than before. The brown circles float in a sea of white and move in folds of pink with a black fringe. A ridge appears between the circles, and a fuzzy dark line above each one.

A vague memory stirs. With effort, his fingers go up to his face and run along the bridge of his nose, spreading out to the left and right, touching the structures. It is the same.

Eyes.

He is looking at eyes. Beautiful and serene.

Fighting back the urge to touch them, he concentrates on seeing as much as he can, waiting until the rest of the face comes into view.

And then he sees her, a woman standing only a few feet away. The face triggers the faint memory of a name.

Jessica.

As if on their own, his lips begin to move.

“Jessica, where are you?”

The words leave his mouth without thought or effort. He doesn’t know where they come from, but they sound comfortable and right, like honey on his lips. As he listens to himself speak, recognition and memories flood through his mind.

“Can you hear me?” Matt pleads, waiting for an answer.

But Jessica is silent.

She walks toward him, her eyes focused on something behind him. She moves by, ignoring his frantic efforts to get her attention. He reaches out to her in desperation and panic, but she passes through his arms like he isn’t there, a look of total disinterest on her face.

He turns as she goes by. “Why won’t you answer me?”

Matt stares at her back, hoping against hope that she will see him and realize how close they are. But Jessica continues to move away.

Perhaps she saw him and didn’t care.

Impossible. He throws the thought away as soon as it crosses his mind.

“Don’t leave me Jessica. Please.”

She stops and turns her face slowly toward him. Hope rises up in his chest, and he waits for any indication, no matter how slight, that she sees him. As he catches a glimpse of her brown eyes, she fades into blackness, replaced by another image.

It isn’t Jessica this time, but it has a roughly humanoid shape with arms, legs, drooping belly and an oversized head. Fangs protrude through the leathery hide of its eyeless face, marking the location of a lopsided mouth. A foul-smelling ooze drips from open sores splashed across its grotesque body. The huge mouth opens like a bottomless black pit, and the nightmare takes a step toward Matt, its arms lifting up to show long claws growing from the tips of its fingers.

A belt of claw-shaped stones dangles from its waist.

For an instant, Matt stares. The image is familiar. But the recognition slips away when the monster morphs into two, then four identical shapes, all pressing forward, coming closer.

Matt senses movement behind him and turns.

Jessica appears again, balancing a long rifle in her arms, hugging it tight against her shoulder. Matt waits for her to fire at the beasts, sure that she has come back to protect him. But she stands like a statue, looking straight ahead with a face devoid of emotion.