But nothing happens.
The huge leg of the Scrit slams down around us.
Something is wrong.
That’s when I see it fall through the sky.
Like the signal that my world is indeed ending…
Realization hits.
The bomb.
The energy bomb is falling.
It must have slipped from Adee’ra’s grasp when the Scrit lifted her.
As another of its legs slam down around us, my pupils widen in horror.
The energy bomb fell from her grasp!
It was the only weapon we have that was small enough to get on board undetected.
The only thing we had to attack it with.
The one thing this whole plan rested on.
“Rek,” GaVar curses beside me.
I don’t think.
I act.
Symbiotes still cloaking me, I launch myself at the next leg that comes forward.
Rek the plan.
I am going after her.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
ADIRA
I feel one of the bombs slip from my fingers the moment the Scrit lifts me.
Now I only have one.
Fear shoots up my spine as the Scrit drops me within itself and I fall on the hard metallic floor.
Pain is the next thing I feel. It shoots right through me and I grit my teeth against it.
Stay. Don’t move.
I have to use everything within me to tell the ba’clan to stay calm along the column of my spine.
If they rush to help me now, our cover will be blown and everyone is counting on me to do this.
To take this thing down from the inside.
But I only have one bomb.
Convincing Fer’ro to let me get this close to the thing had been hard enough.
The whole time, I was sure he wouldn’t let me off the ship.
But by some miracle, he did—on the basis that as soon as the Scrit drops me into its belly, I activate the bombs.
I grip the last one in my palm and lift my head to look around me.
Three women are huddled together, their faces drawn as they stare at me, hopelessness in their gazes.
My gaze flicks around the space and a horrible feeling develops in my belly.
I hate this place.
I hate it so much.
My stomach turns at the fact that I am once again within the belly of a machine.
But not for long.
I have to find a way to take it down.
The Vullan on the ground are counting on me.
We need this motherfucker alive and the only way to do it is to take down the Scrit without killing its pilot.
Fuck.
As I rise onto my knees, I look at the women.
None of them speak and I can see images of me, Sam, and Mina right before me. Three of us, like it is three of them.
Poor Sam. If something happens to me, she won’t even know it wasn’t the Vullan’s fault.
I’d had no time to find her and explain before He’rox came up with this reckless plan and I agreed to it.
“Where’s the pregnant one?” I ask and one of the females stares at me like she’s seen a ghost before she looks away. But not before I see the tears that brim in her eyes.
Her mouth quivers a little as she replies. “It took her a day or two ago.”
Two days.
It should want to breed someone else pretty soon.
Incubate its seed.
Wait for it to grow.
I bite my bottom lip as I scramble to the wall of the Scrit and look down.
All I can see is mud and dirt.
I can’t see the Vullan who are hiding among the rocks.
I can’t see Fer’ro.
Fuck.
I need to tell them I lost one of the bombs.
Signal to them somehow.
Shit.
I was feeling much braver when I had both of them.
According to the white Vullan, if I slam both charges against the Gryken vessel, they will create some sort of charge powerful to affect the Scrit and the Gryken within it.
I don’t know how he knows this. I didn’t ask.
But it is obvious the little bombs are something he invented.
The way he’d held them…the precise instructions he’d given me…
With both bombs, the charge would be enough to temporarily take the Scrit down and then the Vullan could make their move.
They could extract the Gryken. Put it in a sealed chamber. Take it back to the ship.
Disable it somehow.
But the plan is already failing.
My bravery is about to be for nothing, because one energy bomb cannot penetrate the Scrit enough to take it down.
At least, not from where I am.
He’rox had said I’d need both charges to create an energy bomb large enough to penetrate deep into the Scrit.
If I only have one…
My heart thumps hard, like a drum in the middle of a deep cavern. It echoes right through me.
I know what I have to do.
I need to get into the control room.
I need to get closer to the Gryken.
“Fuck!”
I slam my fist against the barrier to the outside as a lump forms in my throat.
“This is dangerous…” The words leave my mouth as a whisper that I think only I can hear. “Adira…you’re going fucking insane.”
I slam my fist against the barrier again as a groan of frustration leaves me.
I can’t believe I’m considering this.
“I know,” one of the women says. “It’s a lot to take in. Just…don’t fight it and don’t appear so…alive. It might take you.”
My head snaps around and I look at her.
“What?”
“Don’t fight it. It’s inevitable once you are taken. We just have to pray that death isn’t painful.”
“No, what did you say after that?” I turn toward her and note that her gaze slips down my nakedness.
I don’t even care.
“What did you say about appearing alive?”
She looks away from me and swallows hard.
“We notice it…takes those who fight. It’s the only reason we haven’t been taken yet. We do not hardly move. But…” her eyes tear up, “maybe our luck’s about to run out. It hasn’t been finding many females lately.”
Her gaze finds me again and I see a thread of suspicion. “I’m surprised it found you all the way out here.”
Her gaze moves over me her confusion and suspicion growing but I’m caught in the grasp of my own tangled web of thoughts.
“It takes those who fight?” I whisper.
The woman gulps and nods slightly.
“It takes those who fight.” I repeat the words as a plan hatches in my mind.
I’m standing now, my gaze travelling over the roof of the chamber.
Across from where the women sit, across the barrier, there is the usual tangle of vines.
I do not know if any Feeders are alive over there. I doubt it.
But my plan wouldn’t have included them anyway.
I don’t have much time left.
Fer’ro and the others must have realized something is wrong by now since the Scrit is continuing on its way.
I have to try and do something now before they blow their cover.
The entire human race depends on me.
This is pressure that I do not need…but I’m used to pressure.
“Back before you came, I was a doctor.” I speak loudly as I stand tall.
The sway of the Scrit does not even affect me. “I know pressure. I’ve dealt with pressure.” I’m not sure who I’m talking to, but hearing the words come from my mouth strengthens me somehow. “I wrestled a pet anaconda once.” I speak louder. “I snipped tiny rabbit bits!”