Alive (The Dead Room Trilogy Book 3)

by Stephanie Erickson

  “So do we, but…they’re not nearly as good,” Mason said. He looked at Lehman, who appeared to be too engrossed in her roasted duck. She’d gone for something familiar, but by the look on her face, it was far superior to anything they could’ve dreamed of making on the island.

  “Well, I doubt that’s from lack of skill. Resources make a difference. Machines, electricity, those things help,” she said with a shrug.

  Mason looked down at his nearly clean plate. How had that happened? The steak was so tender it nearly melted in his mouth, and he’d tried to savor each bite. But before he was ready, it had disappeared.

  “And how exactly did you get so many more resources than we did?” Mason hadn’t meant for it to sound quite as accusatory as it did.

  “Circumstance, I suppose. The wealthy of Ashby’s age funded the ships. They bought their tickets for a million dollars a piece. Well, that’s how the history of the ship was told to us. But I don’t even know who my original ancestor was, and I have no connection to them or their way of life.” She looked at Mason, trying to help him understand her so-called easy life. “As far as I’m concerned, my place on this ship is more luck than anything else. Were our places reversed, I’d be the one struggling and you’d be the one piloting the bleeding ship. It’s not because of who we are or what we did or didn’t deserve. It’s just circumstance.”

  He knew she was right, but that didn’t make it any easier to swallow.

  “At any rate, our worlds have collided now.” Her smile was contagious, spreading to even Mason as he polished off his last precious bite of food.

  “Do you want dessert?” Vega asked as she pulled the menu back out from under the table.

  “I do, but I better not. I don’t think my stomach can handle it,” Lehman said as she leaned back in her chair.

  Vega laughed. “Well, there’s time for delicacies later, I promise.”

  “Assuming the ship doesn’t come crashing down tonight,” Lehman said. Mason could tell she’d meant it as a joke, but the look on Vega’s face told him she’d missed the message.

  “I was only kidding, Vega,” Lehman said, leaning forward and placing her hand on top of Vega’s on the table.

  “I know.” It was so quiet, Mason barely heard it. Her gaze wandered beyond him, to the people sitting at a far table.

  “They don’t even know. We could fall out of the sky at any moment, and no one in this room knows except me.” Her gaze returned to Mason and Lehman. “And now you.”

  “That must be a terrible responsibility,” Mason said. He watched her carefully, wondering what she’d been through. Obviously, it had been a different kind of stress than his ordeal, but it seemed like they’d put a lot on her in a short time. Clearly, she felt responsible.

  “Are you the chief pilot, so to speak, Vega?” Lehman asked.

  “No. I am a captain on this ship, but I’m one of many. I am one of the most senior captains on the ship, however, and the major trusts me. We have a good rapport. I was selected for the reconnaissance mission to the surface because of my skill in the cockpit.” She shrugged, as if it was no big deal.

  “How long have you known about this apocalyptic scenario?” Lehman asked, and it was Mason’s turn to give her a cautionary glance. He could tell Vega was on edge, and Mason didn’t want to push her over. She was their ally; they needed her to keep it together to maintain their connection with the major and the other world leaders

  “Just a few days.”

  “I see.” Lehman eyed Mason, and he frowned. Everything was in its infancy.

  “But I guess some of the other airships have known for a while. They’re worse off than we are. They’re the ones who need solutions today, or rather yesterday.”

  After shaking her head a little, as if to shake off the melancholy surrounding her, Vega pulled up her white sleeve and held a silver wristband against the glass menu. “Okay, we’re all settled up. If you guys are ready to head to your quarters, I can take you there.”

  A hot shower and a soft bed sounded amazing to Mason, but he still had so many questions.

  “How long have you been a pilot on the airship?” Mason asked after they cleared the table and walked out of the fancy restaurant.

  “About twelve years. Training before that. I’ve always known I wanted to fly, so I spent most of my life either doing it or working toward it.”

  Mason thought about his own job, and the day he got his assignment. He’d wanted to be a welder, and he was so excited, even if his mother wasn’t. “You have a lot to be proud of.”

  “I guess…” She seemed to think for a moment before continuing. “Jo and I get by just fine.” She smiled, and Mason wondered who Jo was. She’d mentioned someone she met in the orphanage. Was that him?

  “Is he your boyfriend?” Lehman asked, and Mason’s ears perked up at the question.

  Vega laughed out loud, and Lehman folded her arms over her chest as they walked, seeming rather pleased with herself.

  “No, Jo is my roommate. She and I have been best friends since I can remember. In fact, this is the longest we’ve ever gone without seeing each other.”

  “Oh, that’s right. You mentioned her before. Maybe we should swing by and you could introduce us to her,” Lehman suggested.

  Mason wasn’t sure he wanted to be involved in a girl party. “If you don’t mind, drop me off at my quarters before too much girlish squealing starts happening.”

  Vega laughed. “It may shock you to learn, but I’m not much into girlish squealing.” Her smile faded. “Anyway, I’m not allowed contact with her until this is resolved. At least not face-to-face contact.”

  “What? Why?” Mason asked, perplexed and slightly horrified that Vega would be cut off from her support system during such a stressful time.

  “The whole panic thing?” Vega said, as if she was trying to jog his memory.

  “Yeah, but she’s your family. Surely she—”

  Vega cut him off. “No. I’m not even staying with her right now. Remember about the isolation thing? I’m allowed to call her and let her know I’m alive. That’s it.”

  “Seems harsh.”

  “No harsher than any of the secrets we’ve been known to keep,” Lehman interjected, which made Mason snap his mouth shut. She was right. Different societies governed themselves the best way they knew how, he supposed.

  “What secrets do you keep?” Vega asked, latching onto that one like a fish with a worm.

  “The elders on the island kept all sorts of secrets. You’ll learn about some of them in that book. Should be good reading for you tonight,” Mason said. “Just try not to judge any of us too harshly when you’re done.”

  “Why would I judge you for something Ashby did?” Vega said, seeming to be genuinely perplexed.

  “Because it’s not all…roses and rainbows.”

  Her laugh caught him off guard, and he almost tripped.

  “Right. Because I expected a journal documenting the end of the world as they knew it to be sunshine and daisies.” She bumped him as they walked, grinning at his surprised expression at the action.

  He couldn’t help smiling back. “I mean, it depends on who’s version you read, I guess,” he said, trying to salvage himself.

  “Right,” Vega said, not adding any more jabs.

  Mason watched Vega as they walked. She couldn’t have been older than him, might even be two or three years younger. Her strikingly dark, almost black hair was cut short around her face. It would’ve given her a masculine look if her features weren’t so soft. Her dark brown eyes gave her a girl-next-door feeling, but her smile was what attracted him the most. It added a sparkle to her eyes that he couldn’t get enough of.

  He wondered what Ashley would’ve thought of her, and then his heart ached a little. He shouldn’t be thinking those things. Not when they were struggling to survive. Not when the people below were counting on him to find a way for them to live a better life. Not when—

  Vega cut his train
of thought off. “Well, here we are.”

  He hadn’t even noticed how far they’d walked. Internally, he chided himself for not paying attention to the vast surroundings as they walked. He’d never find his way around now.

  “Mason, you’re in this one.” Vega pointed straight ahead. “Lehman, you are next door. I’m just across the hall from you if either of you need anything at all. I know the technology is probably a little confusing, so if you want me to come show you how to work the shower or the screen, just holler.”

  “I’m sure we’ll be fine,” Lehman said with a warm smile.

  “I’ll come get you in the morning, then.”

  “Perfect. Thanks,” Mason said, feeling awkward about telling her goodbye but not really sure why.

  “Night,” Vega said, giving an odd half wave before she went into her own quarters.

  Once the door clicked closed, Lehman turned to Mason with a mischievous look in her eye. Mason tried to turn away before she could say something, but he was too slow.

  “She seems…” Lehman trailed off as she looked at Vega’s door, a thoughtful expression coming across her face. “Very nice.”

  “Yes. She does,” Mason said, careful not to comment further.

  “Seems a shame she doesn’t have anyone to—”

  Mason cut her off. “Good night, Lehman.”

  She laughed out loud before going to her own door. “Good night, Mason.”

  Once inside his room, he attempted to take the most frustrating shower of his life. He ended up scraping what little soap he could off the floor of the shower before it was washed away.

  As he toweled off and looked at himself in the mirror, he frowned.

  His bald head shone in the light, but his beard looked long and scruffy. He searched through the drawers and found an electric razor. Not trimming sheers, like they used on the sheep. That was how he kept his beard, and his head, nice at home. In his quest for the mainland, he’d neglected it big time. Even his head looked ridiculous, starting to grow in fuzzy patches in some spots, bald in others.

  He found an outlet on the wall and clumsily plugged it in, trying a few configurations before he finally got a good fit. Then he flipped a switch on the side and it buzzed to life, startling him into dropping it. A piece of plastic came off the front, and the thing felt alive as it buzzed around on the ground. Mason stepped on it, trying to get it under control.

  “For Ashby’s sake,” he said as he bent to pick up the razor and the discarded piece. He snapped the plastic cover back onto the end and looked warily at the device in his hand. “Here goes nothing.”

  He could almost hear Ashley laughing at him as he closed his eyes and touched the razor to his beard, cringing as he listened to it struggling through the wiry hair.

  Well, it’s about time.

  He opened his eyes and saw her sitting on the countertop next to him. She looked the same, not at all how he’d seen her the last time when she was being consumed by Ashby’s bots. Ashley looked healthy and full of life. She peered at him, filled with anticipation. It wasn’t the first time her ghost had visited him, but that time, he’d desperately needed her counsel. This time, he was standing half-naked in front of the mirror with a contraption he didn’t fully understand how to use. He didn’t need her making fun of him. He needed direction.

  He leaned forward, ignoring her.

  You were starting to look like a full-blown Yeti.

  “Says you,” he said as he guided the device along his chin, taking off at least an inch of his facial hair. It fell in a heap in the sink below.

  You should’ve done that before you showered. You can’t get any more soap now.

  He grunted as he continued his work. He was committed now.

  So, what do you think?

  “I was about to ask you the same thing.”

  I think this is a good opportunity, as long as you don’t mess it up.

  “Mess it up? How would I do that?”

  She looked at him with her arms folded across her small chest. Oh, please.

  “I’d say we came to a diplomatic solution on the ground.”

  Yes, well. These ‘ship folks’ as you call them, have different ways. Tread lightly.

  “Surprisingly, I’d puzzled that much out for myself,” he said, shaking his head. “Ashley, how can we help them? I can’t even help myself to a good shave.” He looked at himself in the mirror, his beard totally uneven and hanging in clumps off his face.

  She laughed out loud at him. You are hopeless.

  When she kept laughing, he prompted her. “Is that all you have to say? You came all the way here to tell me I’m hopeless?”

  No. I came to tell you not to give up. It seems dark and impossible. You feel small and inconsequential. It’s not. And you’re not.

  “Fine.”

  Fine? She frowned at him, and the expression was so familiar it made his heart ache.

  “Well, you’ve told me nothing actionable. Nothing I can work with.”

  Be patient. It will come to you when the time is right.

  “Okay, Yoda.”

  Star Wars had been some of her favorite books to read on the island when they were kids. She’d read them out loud to him for hours. He had to admit that they were entertaining, even if he didn’t love reading. One year, he’d built her a replica R2-D2 out of small pipes and bits of discarded metal. She’d loved that thing, but she’d had to get rid of it after she was matched. Her match wouldn’t let her keep anything Mason had made her. She’d only managed to keep a small locket he’d made hidden from her match because of its size.

  Please, that wasn’t anything like Yoda talks, you know that. Just stay out of trouble, okay? This is a pivotal moment, Mason. Humanity could thrive or, well…not.

  “No pressure.”

  She smiled at him, but there was a sadness in her eyes he hadn’t seen when she first appeared on the counter.

  “What?”

  I want you to be happy, Mason. Keep that in mind if you’re ever worried about what I think of Vega.

  “Vega? I never…who mentioned…what does Vega have to do with anything?” he sputtered.

  She chuckled. Nothing. I just… She looked at him without finishing her sentence, a sad expression on her face.

  He wanted to reach for her, but she shook her head. It’s not your time to join me, Mason. Remember that. Fight. Win.

  “What do you think I’m doing?”

  I don’t know; it seemed to me like you were about ready to give up down on the ground!

  The volume of her voice startled him, and he set the razor down. But he didn’t have anything to say back to her. She was right. He’d wanted to give up, even knowing she would’ve kept going, kept searching, kept fighting. He was tired. He wanted rest.

  This is your rest. Look around you. This is more opulent than anything we’ve ever known. Enjoy it while you can, and then fix this problem, once and for all.

  “Simple as that, huh?”

  Simple as that.

  He looked at himself in the mirror, deciding he looked even worse than he had before he’d started.

  “Simple as that,” he said as he picked the razor back up and got to work.

  16.

  Vega was deep into reading about Ashby’s dead room when an alert jarred her from her thoughts.

  “Captain Fowell, please report to the major’s office immediately. Bring the guests with you.” The female voice was soothing, but it was almost two o’clock in the morning. It must’ve been urgent.

  Throwing her uniform back on, and running her hand through her short hair, she was out the door in less than five minutes. She hesitated outside of Mason and Lehman’s quarters, dreading waking them up.

  She decided to knock on Lehman’s door first, thinking she might be more receptive. To her surprise, Lehman was dressed with a coffee cup in her hand. She seemed tired, but ready to go. Mason joined them at Lehman’s door.

  “How did…” Vega asked.

&nb
sp; “This creepy announcement woke me up,” Mason explained.

  “Me too,” Lehman said as she eyed him.

  “You trimmed your beard,” Vega said while Lehman sipped at her cup.

  “It wasn’t easy.”

  “Looks nice. Less mangy,” Lehman commented.

  “Noted.” Mason eyed her cup hungrily. “What’s in that cup and where did you get it?”

  “Coffee and there is a machine in my room.”

  “How did you use it without the directions?” he demanded.

  “Carefully.” Lehman shrugged as if it was obvious.

  “I’m sure they’ll have coffee at the major’s office,” Vega said, trying to offer him a consolation.

  It took them another four minutes to cross the distance between her temporary quarters and the major’s office.

  When she got there, several other pilots and maintenance teams were there, as well as all the leaders from the other ships, via screen connection.

  “What’s happened?” Vega asked as she approached the major with her two guests in tow and shook his hand.

  “An airship has gone down.”

  A gasp escaped her as her legs turned to jelly. She sank down into the chair next to where the major was standing, and he didn’t even notice. He kept his eyes fixed on the screen, which was now showing external camera footage from the airship as it went down. Mason stood behind her, leaning heavily on the back of her chair, and Lehman took the seat next to her.

  “As you can see, multiple system failures at once were the doom of the Tantalus,” the major narrated, although it wasn’t needed. Everyone could see what had happened. The multiple camera feeds inside the massive cockpit to outside the ship, right down to when it crash-landed and went to static, played on a loop on the screens.

  “Has there been any contact with the ship?” Vega asked.

  “No,” the major answered simply.

  “Should we send someone down to help? There might be survivors,” Vega insisted, unable to take her eyes off the scrambling people in the cockpit. It was so like her dream. She wiped the sweat from her forehead, and then felt Mason’s hand move from the chair to her shoulder, giving her a squeeze.