Heat ignited in her chest and her Imprints tore across her skin. She blindly shoved away the people who’d grabbed her and leapt up. Her silver and copper Imprint squares coated the outsides of her fists as she banged on the sealed bulkhead.
Her pulse pounded in her ears, and she threw a fire-eyed glare to Erandus, who stood wide-eyed at the door controls.
“Circitor!” she shouted. “Open this door!”
Erandus hesitated, his pale skin flushed a deep red.
Puck yanked him back. “Go!”
Erandus took off down the hall.
Adequin balled her fists and clenched her jaw.
A thin, clammy grip tightened around her arm. Her Imprints buzzed on instinct, but as she turned to throw the offender off, she froze. Mesa stared up at her, a deluge of sweat dampening thin strands of black hair against her warm beige skin.
“There is nothing to be done,” Mesa said, large eyes glistening, each breath labored and wheezing.
Though an influx of adrenaline still twitched in Adequin’s fingers and quickened her pulse, the Savant’s palpable worry extinguished her rage.
“Sir!” Puck shouted. “We have to keep moving!”
Adequin’s eyes jolted up to the tail of the advancing group, where Puck waved an arm to urge her on, right behind … Mesa, who ran a few meters in front of him. The lithe grip on her arm firmed. Her eyes slid back to her side, but no one was there.
A burgeoning lump threatened to close her throat, but she swallowed it back, shaking the looping image of Bray screaming from her mind. She forced one foot in front of the other.
She rushed to follow, catching up as the group gathered at the entrance to the access ladders. She swept her clearance to unlock the door, and ushered each person down, watching the steady silence of the corridor behind her as if it might erupt into flashes of static light at any moment.
When the last soldier in line entered, Adequin made a cursory check for any stragglers, then followed them in. A wall of heat hit her as she climbed into the narrow shaft. Sweat dampened her jacket and stuck the heavy fabric to the skin of her back by the time she descended all four deep levels.
At the hangar entrance, they were greeted with a wash of warning beacons and blaring klaxons. A group of at least ten more soldiers had already gathered around the door. The handful of doppelg?ngers popping in and out of existence made it impossible to get an accurate head count.
Puck pushed into the gathered crowd toward the hangar door. Adequin followed, and boots squeaked on metal as they shuffled to give her room to pass.
“Sir, it’s locked down,” someone said.
Puck looked up from the control screen as she approached, then whispered, “I’d hack it but…” He indicated the crimson atmosphere gauge.
“Shit…” A vise tightened under her ribs. It’d already been breached. Lace would have been in there, working to pull the last Hermes out of storage. Her heart sped, pushing another wave of panic through her chest.
The strain in her chest loosened with a thought, and she locked eyes with Puck. “The other hangar.”
“What other hangar?” a hoarse voice shouted from the crowd.
Puck’s brow creased. “The starboard deck hasn’t been used in years…”
“If Lace couldn’t deploy here,” Adequin said, “she’d try the other side.”
He nodded, and she let him take point again, leading the pack toward the starboard access corridor. The decking rumbled as Adequin waited for them all to filter out.
Twenty-six—they’d be slightly overcapacity, but close to Puck’s estimated limit. She took up the rear again and as they jogged, tried to steady her fraying nerves by reminding herself over and over again that they were saving as many people as possible.