by N M Tatum
Cody put Ragnarok into a hard dive as the flames raced toward them. The ship shook from the speed of the dive and the heat rushing toward them, which was mere seconds from swallowing them whole.
An alarm sounded on the bridge. “Heat levels exceeding maximum resistance.”
“No shit,” Cody barked.
The flames hadn’t even hit them yet, and the heat was already more than the ship could take. The fire was just meters away now. Seconds until death.
Cody slammed on the thrusters, pushing every last ounce of energy he could into them.
The river of fire rushed past their tail end, missing a direct hit by no more than ten meters.
Cody yelled, a mixture of cheer and terror. Then he pitched Ragnarok forty-five degrees to the starboard side and began his climb.
“We’re on our way to the smokestack. Be there in thirty seconds.”
“Aye,” Joel said.
Sam eyed him curiously.
Joel shrugged. “Just trying it out. Doesn’t work?”
Sam shook her head.
Joel secured his helmet and double-checked his tether. Then he did the same to Sam’s.
She slapped his hand away. “I’m good to go. I don’t need you nannying me.”
“I doubt anyone has ever nannied you. Just making sure you’re secure.” He raised the bridge on comms. “All right, folks, here’s the plan.”
Cody looped around Bowser’s ribcage and held the ship in a steady pattern over the smokestack opening. “We’re here. You sure about this?”
“Not at all,” Joel answered. “But you all insisted we kill this thing, and this is our best shot. So again, I repeat – if I die right now, the blame falls squarely on your shoulders.”
Joel pushed the cart to the lip of the cargo bay airlock. Sam opened the door, and the two entered. She fidgeted with the strap looped across her chest that held her sword sheath on her back.
“You take that thing with you everywhere you go?”
She didn’t look at Joel. “Yes. You must always be prepared to stab.” She said it with more levity than normal, which struck Joel as odd. Not unwelcome, but odd.
The twelve bombs jiggled inside the crate as Joel and Sam both took a side and lifted it from the cart to the floor. Joel pushed the cart out and closed the door, sealing them and the highly explosive devices inside. He secured the free end of his tether to the jack inside the airlock. When he noticed that Sam was too busy checking her sword, Joel secured her tether as well.
“You must always be prepared to not get sucked out into space.” He smiled, hoping she’d hear his joking tone and not the sarcasm that often masked it.
She returned his smile. “That’s my second rule.”
Sam shook her arms, loosening her muscles, readying herself.
“Opening the airlock,” Joel said.
“Be careful,” Reggie answered.
“Just keep the skies clear for us,” Joel said to Reggie.
The vacuum sucked the air out of the lock. Sam and Joel held firm to the handles on the crate and the handles on the wall. Then they let go.
“We’re out,” Joel said. “Be back in five.”
They drifted out of the ship, tethered to it by cables, tethered to each other by a box of bombs powerful enough to destroy a small space station. Hopefully.
Activating the thrusters in their boots, Joel and Sam shot down toward the crater in the top of Bowser’s head. With this view, they were able to see straight down into the monster. It was like staring into an active, churning volcano. The smoke and fumes rose to meet them, jostling them.
They held firm to the crate as they continued their descent.
A sudden flare inside the crater sent a rush of heat up toward them. The force pressed against them, slowing to a point of near standstill. The flare died, and they resumed.
“You two had better hurry,” Cody said in their helmets. “I think Bowser is preparing to fire again.”
Sam and Joel landed on the rim of the crater. It felt like rock, though they knew it was a living creature. They didn’t waste time opening the crate. The bombs inside were divided into two bags. Joel took one, Sam the other. With a nod, they dove into an active volcano.
Sam shot across the opening to the opposite rim. She slowed her approach, knowing any unnecessary jostling could set the bombs off. She opened the bag before her feet touched the wall, pulling out the first bomb. Each one had a spike protruding from the back. She stabbed it into the wall of the crater then moved clockwise, placing the bombs at regular intervals.
They had four left to place, two each, when the heat flared again. The surge of hot gases lifted them out of the crater like they were balloons. They drifted in open space as a shadow crept over them.
Bowser’s arm grew larger, closer, reaching for them. He’d felt them crawling around up there, stabbing him like fleas would bite. He meant to do to them what he would do to fleas.
The turret on Ragnarok lit up, and Reggie opened fire on Bowser’s arm, interrupting its course. Bowser made to swat the ship out of the sky instead of crushing Joel and Sam.
Cody banked starboard, narrowly evading the hit. Joel and Sam jerked suddenly, still tethered to the ship. They watched, helpless, as Bowser’s arm came back around.
“I can’t stay here,” Cody said over comms. “You two need to get back into the ship.”
“We still need to place four charges,” Joel answered. “Without those, the plan won’t work.”
The turret opened fire on Bowser’s arm again. “It won’t work if we get smashed out of the sky, either,” Reggie said.
Sam noticed the look in Joel’s eye a second too late.
He snatched the bag from Sam and punched the auto-recoil button on her tether. She was suddenly meters away from him, watching as he undid his tether and rocketed into the crater.
“You’re clear,” Joel said. “Get out of here.”
He didn’t look back to see Ragnarok fly away, to see the ship and his friends for the last time. He looked forward, focused on the mission. That was all that mattered.
He entered the crater again and picked up the trail of charges, stabbing one and then another into the wall. He moved quickly, no longer concerned about being careful. He’d rather not have one blowing up in his hand, but the not-dying ship may have literally sailed. He was about to stab the last bomb into the wall when another flash of heat knocked him off course. Joel scraped at the wall as he was lifted upward. Unable to find a handhold, he stabbed the last bomb into the wall, using it like a climber’s axe.
This burst of heat was longer than the others, more intense. Bowser was gearing up for another attack. He was stoking the flames.
Joel ignored the chatter in his helmet. Reggie yelling at him. Cody calling him an idiot. Nothing from Sam. She was probably too mad at him. Hopefully this would change her mind about him. That he was a clown, a jokester that took nothing seriously. There was nothing more serious than getting blown up inside an alien’s volcano head.
Bowser was about to unleash his attack; Joel could see the fire rushing by at the bottom of the crater. It was now or never.
Blow the bombs, plug the crater, kill Bowser.
Go out in a blaze of glory.
He reached for the detonator on his belt.
Then something grabbed his wrist.
“Not yet, jackass.”
Sam squeezed his wrist so hard his fingers curled. She straightened her body and kicked her boot thrusters into high gear. She rocketed away from the crater, Joel in tow.
“What is it with you guys always trying to sacrifice yourselves?”
“I didn’t come out here looking to do that,” Joel said. He craned his neck to look at the tether trailing behind Sam. A partial tether. She’d cut it before the auto-recoil brought her back to the ship. Joel focused, let the voices in his helmet register. Cody and Reggie weren’t just yelling at him—they were yelling at him and Sam.
“You stupid, goddamn fools,” Reggie yelled. �
�What the hell are you thinking?”
“You made Reggie say bad words,” Joel teased.
“Not me. I’m just trying to clean up your mess.”
“We can all blame each other later,” Cody yelled. “But Bowser is about to obliterate that space station. Then probably us.”
Sam squeezed tighter. “You have a lock on us?”
“Yeah,” Cody answered.
“Then if we aren’t incinerated in three seconds, come pick us up.” She looked to Joel.
They exchanged a nod. Joel pressed the trigger.
The crater exploded.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Tumbling ass over tea kettle in the vacuum of space is a bizarre sensation. No sense of equilibrium. No focal point to get your bearings. Just twirling on a carnival ride out of control.
The force of the explosion kicked Joel and Sam away from Bowser. Sent them hurtling like space junk. But at no point during their tumultuous tumble, did Sam let go of Joel. She wasn’t sure if he was even conscious. She didn’t dare speak for fear she would vomit as soon as she opened her mouth. They were a ball of bodies.
Sense returned to Sam in little drips. A leaky faucet slowly filling the sink over days. Like a snap, she suddenly became aware of the situation, gained some context. She couldn’t see Ragnarok, but she caught glimpses of Bowser as she spun, so she knew roughly in which direction they were careening. And she knew that they would never stop… They would drift forever until the infinite eventually swallowed them, or they had the luck to drift too close to a star and die.
She needed to slow them, to gain some control. She kicked her boot thrusters on. They sputtered. Knocked around by the impact, fuel fought to ignite in the tiny engines. She tried again, and the thrusters erupted. Sam maneuvered around, putting the brakes on her trip through space.
But Joel still had momentum. He ripped free of Sam’s hand and continued on like a rocket. Her ears rang and pounded, and her head screamed at her. She felt blood trickling from her nose. She saw two of Joel drifting away into nothingness.
She hoped she flew toward the right one. She kicked on her boot thrusters again and closed the distance between her and Joel. Having hardly caught her breath, she slammed into him and lost it again. They tumbled in a mass of person and space suit, but Sam was ready for it this time. She kicked on the thrusters, righted them, and came to a halt.
Joel’s eyes flickered open. “My hero.”
Sam smiled.
Joel regained feeling in his limbs, and his mind cleared of the fog. They looked at Bowser’s smokestack, which was now at least several hundred meters away. She could see the destruction caused by the bombs, but they couldn’t tell if it was enough.
“Are you two alive out there?” Cody’s voice sounded in their helmets.
“We’re alive,” Sam answered. “How’s it looking on your end?”
“The charges did a lot of damage to the smokestack opening, but it wasn’t enough. A massive chunk of it is still teetering. The explosion wasn’t enough to send it tumbling.” A small moment of silence on the other end of the comms. An idea forming. “But I think we can knock it loose. Can you two hang tight for a minute?”
“Sure,” Joel said. “I don’t have much going on. My day’s wide open.”
Cody tightened the straps on his chair, a move that didn’t really seem to do anything, but it felt cool. It felt like he meant business. And he meant some serious goddamn business.
“Reggie, get down to the hangar bay,” he ordered. “Prep to scoop up the others. I’m heading straight for the edge of that crater, torpedoes armed.”
“Aye.”
That was the second time someone had answered Cody like that. He thought it was a joke at first, maybe sarcasm, but he couldn’t deny that he liked it—being responded to like he was a captain. That was a career path he’d never assumed for himself. He never considered himself a leader. Even among the Notches, dating back to the beginning, he’d seen himself as the lowest on the totem pole. Reggie was the athlete, the popular kid. Joel was the funny prankster that made everyone laugh. Cody was the geek. They were all nerds, but he was a geek. Bloodshot eyes from staring at lines of computer code all day long. Endless hours in chatrooms. Awkward to the point of painful in real social situations.
He was the one who got wedgies and was shoved in lockers. Reggie and Joel were the ones who defended him.
But, here he was, the one behind the wheel, the one steering the ship.
The one about to save the goddamn day.
“Torpedoes are armed.”
He charted his course straight for the smokestack, the cracked section they needed to break loose on the left side of Bowser’s head. The monster repositioned itself, looking away from the space station, requiring Cody to make adjustments.
“What’s he looking at?” Reggie asked.
Up to then, Bowser’s only focus had been the station. He flared again, lighting up from the inside out. He was seconds from firing. Only there was nothing else in this area for him to fire at. It was just the station and—
“Shit,” Cody said. “Sam and Joel. He’s going to fire at Sam and Joel.”
Bowser was a vindictive giant alien volcano monster.
“We need to get his attention,” Cody said.
The forward batteries erupted, peppering the side of Bowser’s head with blasterfire. It did nothing to draw Bowser’s attention; he remained intent on incinerating Sam and Joel.
They weren’t close enough to fire torpedoes. Ragnarok could have acquired a lock on another ship, on anything that gave off a radio or satellite signal… But Bowser was an organic creature. He didn’t emit a signal to lock on to.
Cody would need to make the shot manually. He would need to see his target, and he couldn’t yet—not until he was practically on top of it.
That was five seconds away. And Bowser was four seconds away from firing.
Cody pulled up at a sharp angle. Then he dropped into a dive and pitched to port. The section of the crater rim came into view.
One shot.
One-second window.
He pulled the trigger.
The torpedoes fired, and Ragnarok pulled away from their path. Cody wouldn’t see the impact firsthand. He’d have to watch the feed from the rear camera on the monitor. He’d have to watch to see if he’d failed them all.
But he wouldn’t even be able to do that. The fire burst out of Bowser’s mouth. The monitor turned orange, broadcasting only flames.
An alarm sounded, signaling to Cody that the cargo bay airlock had opened.
Reggie stood inside, wearing his full spacewalk suit. He held firm to a tether, though it was connected to the ports on the ship, as if his added strength would make a difference.
Success was fully out of his hands. He was a passive observer.
“The line’s out,” he said to Sam and Joel. “And we’ve got a fresh wave of hell on our ass, so you’ve got one shot to grab it.”
“Roger that,” Sam answered.
Ragnarok raced toward the two stranded Notches, dangling a piece of string, hoping for a bite on the line, with a gush of hell bearing down on them. Cody calculated how this maneuver could work. He stopped trying when all his attempts at justifying it rationally failed.
Sam and Joel came into view through the bridge window. They looked so helpless, fish floundering on dry land.
“Here we go,” Cody shouted to Sam and Joel, like any amount of words could prepare them for what they needed to do.
Ragnarok passed over Sam. The nose pointed down, but, for a split second, the ship was still. The end of the tether dangled in front of her. She grabbed it and plugged it into the port on her suit. Then she wrapped her arms around Joel, and he wrapped his arms around her.
They stared into the heart of hell, felt the heat through their suits.
Then the ship sped up, lurching them forward like balls on a string. The coating on the outside of Sam’s visor bubbled against the heat. Hal
f a second longer, and they would cease to exist.
If Cody’s rushed mental calculations were accurate, then they would be clear of danger with time to spare.
But they weren’t accurate.
They were about a half second off.
Sam squeezed Joel, hoping to hold on to him as they turned to ash; maybe they would go to whatever came after life together. She’d grown quite used to not being alone.
But in that frozen moment of time, the moment of her death, the fire disappeared. Hell was stuffed back down where it belonged, and Sam and Joel continued living in this world of alien volcano monsters.
As Ragnarok dragged them down, Sam and Joel caught sight of Bowser and the reason his fire had stopped: Cody’s attack had worked. The rest of the crater had caved in, blocking the smokestack and trapping the gases inside. The illuminated parts of the creature grew brighter, the fire still stoking.
“Putting on the brakes,” Cody said. “It’s gonna be a rough landing, but we need to get clear of that thing.”
Before Sam could answer, she noticed Ragnarok growing much larger. The ship stopped, but they didn’t. They rocketed toward the cargo bay airlock. Her head swam. She couldn’t think. That’s why it didn’t occur to her to activate the auto-recoil on her tether.
Luckily, it occurred to Reggie.
The tether snapped taut, guiding them toward the opening.
Reggie stood inside, his arms open wide. “Don’t worry, guys. I got you. Come to daddy.”
“Please don’t say that,” Joel said. “I just threw up in my—”
The blackness of space disappeared as Sam and Joel suddenly found themselves inside the ship. The blackness returned when they slammed into Reggie.
When Sam regained consciousness a second later, she felt a sharp pain in her side and knew she’d cracked a rib. Joel woke still on top of Reggie, his head nuzzled in Reggie’s chest.
“This is the second-best hug I’ve ever had,” Joel said.
The moment passed quickly.
“Get that airlock closed,” Cody screamed over the general comm. “And hold on to something!”
Sam, Joel and Reggie scrambled to their feet. Sam fought back the urge to vomit. Add concussion to my list of injuries.
