Crimson Sky: A Dark Sky Novel

by Amy Braun

  Gemma tried to carry me again, but I shook my head. “I need to run on my own. Just stay close.”

  She looked at me, understanding and promising.

  I hurried to catch up to Sawyer as he walked through the dark tunnels as if by memory. I pulled out the torch from my belt and pulled it open, flooding the blackness with yellow light. Sawyer didn’t glance back, marching purposefully and quickly. I held up the light, seeing the bodies of the four guards lying on the cold concrete of the tunnel. I turned my eyes from them, hoping that they were alive. I didn’t want anyone to die rescuing me–

  Thunk.

  We all halted in our tracks. I lowered the light to conceal it, unwilling to shut it off and trap us in darkness. Sawyer stood in front of me, his hand clasping the hilt of his sword. We stood in place, waiting to see if the noise would come again. I hoped it was a fluke, a mistake we somehow all heard–

  A grating hiss reverberated along the walls. A sound I would know anywhere, burned into my brain with a thousand chilling memories. There was no question about what it was.

  Hellions.

  Sawyer whirled around, grabbing the torch from my hand and pushing it closed until there was a sliver of light remaining.

  “They must have found the substation and followed us down,” he murmured. “We left the escape hatch open because we thought we’d be going back that way.”

  No chance of that happening now.

  “Do you know where we can get out?” Nash asked me.

  I bit my lower lip, struggling to think about where we were in relation to the colony. The tunnels spread through all of Westraven, but trying to remember the closest exit to the ports wasn’t easy to do when your head and heart were filled with panic about the coming monsters.

  However, I did have a general idea of where I was, so I knew I could find an exit. I turned and ran back the way we’d come, hoping the Hellions wouldn’t be able to hear the direction of our footsteps. If we could hear them, they could undoubtedly hear us, and in the blackness of the tunnel they would have no need for their masks, and would probably shed them to amplify their senses. The most we could hope for was to find an exit before the Hellions saw us.

  The next shriek sounded closer than before. I was stiff from the torture, but I didn’t slow down. I couldn’t. We were almost out of time.

  I passed the tunnel Garnet had abused me in then took a sharp left at the next open tunnel. It would take us further from the ports, but it was the nearest exit.

  A bloodcurdling scream sliced through the shadows and startled me. I whirled around as the trio of marauders ran into cover behind me. Grateful they were so close, I pointed my torch up until I found the rusted ladder rungs leading up to a manhole cover. I swatted Gemma on the arm to get her moving, though she needed little encouragement. Nash followed right behind her, the two pirates eager to escape the tunnel. It would take a little time to lift and move the manhole cover without dragging it for the Hellions to hear, but we could at least start our ascent. I spun again to signal Sawyer’s climb.

  The young marauder stood at the mouth of the tunnel, staring around it and listening to the fresh screams hitting the walls. Holding in my frustration, I tucked the torch behind my back and ran to Sawyer. My fingers curled around his shoulder, but he didn’t look at me. He felt so tense I thought he would shatter if I applied one more ounce of pressure.

  Not understanding his tension, I peered around the corner to see what was happening.

  Two Hellions stood in the main tunnel where the beaten thugs lay. Two were already motionless, and the twins were trapped in the jaws of the Hellions, one of which was the large savage that seemed to lead the others.

  I watched in horror as Tyson and Malik convulsed under the Hellions, blood spilling down their backs and stinking the air. The sound of their weak gurgles made me sick.

  A third Hellion appeared from the shadows, dragging Garnet’s limp form into the main tunnel. The large one, the one that caused Sawyer to freeze in the Junkyard. The one hunting me.

  The Hellions dropped their meal and howled at the latest treat brought before them. Then they descended like hawks on a field of mice. Garnet screamed louder than I could ever have imagined.

  I winced and dug my fingers into Sawyer’s arm, hoping he would break out of this strange trance. When he still didn’t move, I started pulling him. He finally looked at me, that same torn expression I'd seen before twisting his handsome features.

  I was starting to think Sawyer knew this Hellion in the worst kind of way.

  But this wasn’t the time for him to fall into dark memories. I pulled him with me to the ladder, away from the Hellions and Garnet’s agonized screams. I should have felt free now that he was gone, but all I felt was guilt.

  Chapter 10

  The trudge back to the ports and the air hangar was silent, and not only because night had fallen and the skiffs were riding the sky. We were all exhausted and hurt, tense from the other Hellion attacks that could be lurking around the corners. For all we knew, dozens of Hellion skiffs could have dropped from under the Behemoth while we were in the tunnels.

  Searchlights embedded on the bottom of five Hellion raiding ships shone down on the ruins of Westraven, blotting out the shadows as they looked for fresh meat.

  After what felt like hours of running around corners, dodging shadows, listening to distant shrieks and piercing rasps, we saw the welcome sight of the wide tarmac, random crates scattered on the outside, available to the marauders if they ever needed to bring them in for storage. The air hangar sat invitingly in the distance. Sawyer jogged to a stop and glanced along the clearing, a dangerous distance to cross when so many Hellion skiffs were out and when I was already a target for the monsters. A dim glow drifted over the left of the ports. A Hellion skiff was wandering close by. Too close.

  We waited for it to disappear, but it hovered in the same place as though waiting instructions.

  “We have to run past it,” Nash murmured.

  “Shooting it down could work too,” Gemma pointed out.

  “Not unless we want to draw attention to the others,” argued Sawyer. He bent his knees. “Run as fast as you can,” he said. “Now!”

  There was no hesitation. He sprinted across the clearing to the open hangar. The three of us followed as quickly as we could, but I was slower than all of them. Pain jolted every movement I made. My head was swimming and my sight was becoming unfocused. I flicked a glance at the circling Hellion, watching it pivot in our direction. My breath caught in my throat, but I kept running.

  The Hellion craft floated closer to us.

  Its light wasn’t illuminating us yet, but it would only be a matter of time. I doubted any of us were in the condition to fight.

  But that didn’t stop Sawyer.

  He set foot on the concrete tarmac. His cutlass and flintlock were tight in his hands.

  “Get inside,” he hissed. “I’ll make sure they don’t follow.”

  No! My mind screamed. The Hellion skiff was drawing closer. Sawyer would die if they found him out here. Gemma and Nash hesitated as they neared the hangar door. The light seemed brighter.

  “Go,” he snapped. “Get the damn door open!”

  He stared up at the Hellion skiff and waited. I was struggling to keep up, but soon I made it onto the tarmac near the hangar. My mind whirled for somewhere to hide. Anything to keep Sawyer from getting himself killed.

  He might claim to have slain Hellions before, but there was no need for him to risk his life now. Not when he was so close to home, and any kind of battle would get him seen. He was putting all of our lives at risk.

  From the corner of my eye, I spotted a mangled tarp that was left to cover some of the crates that the marauders probably used to scavenge. It was in the direction the Hellion skiff was coming, but only ten feet away rather than the fifty feet it was to the hangar. Instead of running straight past Sawyer, I grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the crates.

  He jerked
and tried to stop me, but I refused to let go. I reached the tarp and yanked it up. The skiff was only a dozen feet away. I dragged Sawyer under with me. I tugged him down and draped the tarp over our heads.

  White light shone over our heads like a sun flare. I tensed and held his arm close to my chest. He stiffened under my touch, but neither said nor did anything.

  An engine groaned and chugged over my head, making the engine sound like a drowning man. I felt the heat of the vessel and smelled the sooty smoke from the exhaust. My heart thumped erratically against my ribcage. They had to be only thirty feet over us. I had no idea if the skiff’s light would see our shapes under the billowing tarp.

  Sawyer nudged me and pointed to the box behind us. He showed me a latch on its front. He wasted no time in pulling it open. He waved for me to get in. The box was empty, but it would be a tight fit. I still lunged in, condensing myself in as small of a ball as I could.

  Sawyer was about to flip up the crate door when I grabbed his wrist and pulled. He half tumbled into the crate, his head knocking into my knee. He looked up and glared, but I didn’t care. I kept pulling him inside until he was squished in the confined space beside me, then grabbed the door and jerked it up.

  This was better than our previous cover, but if the Hellions decided to check the crates, we would be done for. I had to believe they wouldn’t, that they would fly past, that Gemma and Nash would get the hangar door open and–

  Boots pounded the concrete in front of us. I jumped and covered my mouth to hold back my scream. Sawyer grabbed his flintlock and quietly thumbed back the hammer. He shuffled carefully until his back was pressed to the crate door. He was blocking his face, and mine, from any possible view. I just hoped the smell of gasoline would hide our own smells.

  The tarp was yanked off. White light gleamed through the slats over Sawyer’s shoulders. Tension filled his shoulders and turned his mouth into a hard line. I tightened my hands over my mouth so the Hellion wouldn’t hear my breathing.

  A crate crashed onto the ground, making both of us jump. Broken wood was kicked and tossed aside. One of the edges struck the door of our own crate. The Hellion hissed. Another crate was smashed to pieces. I trembled.

  Crunch. Crack.

  The Hellion screeched its frustration. There was no mask to obscure the horrible sound. A third box shattered in front of us. Sawyer and I were trapped in the last one. I closed my eyes and cursed myself.

  I did this. I trapped us. What was I thinking? I couldn’t have left him out here, but–

  The gunshot sounded like distant thunder beneath the grating noises from the skiff. The Hellion hissed and stomped past our crate, taking the light with it. The grumbles of the ship faded. In a couple minutes, the only noises I heard were mine and Sawyer’s short, gasping breaths.

  He turned slightly, glancing over his shoulder through the larger slats in the wooden crate. He gripped his flintlock with one hand and used the other to push open the crate door. Nothing happened when it landed on the pile of fragmented wood. Gun still raised, he crawled out of the crate and stood up. After a moment, Sawyer walked away. He didn’t wait for me.

  I crawled out, my limbs glad to be released from their awkward positions. I stood up, seeing the Hellion skiff darting over the demolished towers into the heart of the city. The Behemoth hung lazily overhead, a fat spider in an endless web.

  I spun to face the air hangar. From the back of it, I spotted the small figures of Gemma and Nash. Gemma’s flintlock was hanging loosely at her side. She and Nash must have hidden behind the hangar and fired a gunshot to draw the Hellion’s attention back to the city. They were jogging back to the front of the hangar, preparing to pull the heavy chains on either side to open the door so we could finally enter and rest in relative ease.

  Sawyer marched with purpose, as though he wanted to get as far from me as fast as he could. I scurried to keep up with him.

  “You would have died!” I blurted.

  Sawyer pulled to a sharp halt. I slowed down. I waited, hoping he would turn and say something to me. I wasn’t going to apologize for stopping his daring standoff. One that would unquestionably ended in bloodshed. I almost wanted him to argue with me, to tell me that my plan would have fallen apart the moment that Hellion kicked open our crate and found us inside it. My retort would be that I bought us time for Gemma and Nash to create a distraction.

  Sawyer said none of those things. He didn’t utter a single word to me. He returned to his aggressive stride and made his way to the open air hangar door. I didn’t try to stop him again.

  ***

  Silence continued to hang heavy when we entered and locked down the air hangar. Nash and Gemma didn’t ask what happened on the tarmac. But given the way that their eyes grimly tracked Sawyer’s movements, they would be asking soon.

  For now, we took advantage of some small peace and quiet. We had pushed ourselves past our limits, and sleep was the only thing on our minds. I held the messenger bag close to my chest and walked to the spot near the crates where I’d been sleeping for the last few days. I didn’t hear what Sawyer muttered to Nash and Gemma. Probably something about scheduling watches. Now that the Hellions had sensed motion by the ports, they could be searching it more often.

  I didn’t care about any of that. I lowered my messenger bag next to the makeshift blankets and pillow, then stretched out and waited for sleep to overcome me…

  “Are you sure we can do this, Deanna?”

  I peeked around the corner, watching my mother pace and twirl the small object in her hands. Long blonde hair was slipping from her ponytail, and her eyes were heavier than usual. Finally, she stopped and stared at the object in her hands, keeping her back to my father.

  “We don’t have a choice,” she told my father sadly. “We couldn’t stop them when it mattered, and we have to make up for that.”

  “But there isn’t enough time,” he reasoned. He came up behind her and put one hand on her hip and the other on her stomach. It was beginning to bulge, a sign that I was going to be a sister soon. “We have a family to protect.”

  My mother turned to face her husband. “You think I don’t know that? You think I’m not terrified for my daughter? I don’t want her to fix our mistake, Joel, but we have to train her. If something happens to us–”

  My father cupped her face and looked pleadingly into her eyes. “Don’t say things like that, Deanna. I can’t bear to hear it. It terrifies me.”

  She closed her eyes and bowed her head to his chest. His arms curved around her back and held her tight. I watched him close his eyes as he struggled with the obvious fear on his face.

  “I’ll leave tomorrow. Maybe I can fix the damage done to the ship. Give it some power so the machine works.”

  My mother pulled back so she could look in my father’s eyes. “I’m going with you.”

  He shook his head. “Not this time, Deanna. You need to stay here with Claire.” One of his hands slid to her stomach again, running over the growing curve of her belly. “You need to keep our children safe. I need you to be safe.”

  His other hand curled around her wrist, holding up the item my mother had been toying with earlier. It was hard to see from where I was crouching, but it looked like a key.

  “You have to make sure this will work. It’s the last piece, and Claire needs to know more about what it does.”

  My mother smiled. “You believe in me now?” she teased.

  My father returned her smile, rubbing her wrist with his thumb. “I never stopped.”

  He kissed her forehead and held her close. I turned away and crept back to my room, letting them have their moment together. I was too young to know what they planned for me.

  But if I had known that I had just seen my father for the last time, I would have run back into the room and begged him to stay…

  I woke from the memory with a jolt. It wasn’t as horrible as some of my other dreams, but I was shaken nonetheless. My hand went to the chain around my neck
, sliding down until I gripped the key in a tight fist.

  My father had known about it. Referred to it as a piece to a machine he and my mother were building. It had to be related to the Breach closing machine Garnet thought they were creating. But how could it work? I remembered my mother drilling as many engineering lessons as she could into my brain when we weren’t running, getting me to help her make components for devices without telling me what they did, only to take them away so I would never see how they operated. I asked and asked and asked, but was never told anything. How was I supposed to carry on with their work when I didn’t know what I was supposed to be building?