11. Agatha

The creature snagged me with ease.

Despite my struggling breaths, I had tried to run.

I hadn't gotten far.

A vine snaked around my leg, clenched tight, and I instantly hit the deck.

I lost my grip on the knife and couldn't reach it.

But the truth was, I couldn't fight this thing.

If it was four times stronger than the last one, it could snap me as easily as dry grass.

The vine wasted no time in wrapping around me a dozen times.

For a moment, I thought it might cover me head to toe like a mummy discovered in a long-lost tomb.

It stopped at the waist and dragged me up the incline.

It didn't rush, not when it had so many other snacks to feast on before my turn came.

I watched as one prison guard after another was swallowed whole by the monster.

It could have been eating popcorn.

One after the other, it pulled its victims inside itself.

And soon, it would be my turn.

Some of the guards fought, beating ineffectively against their bonds, while others, mercifully unconscious, let the creature do what it would with them.

I could only imagine the horror when they woke up inside the belly of that beast.

Just as I was about to.

Suddenly, lying back and not fighting didn't seem like such a good idea after all.

My head and arms were left untouched.

I peered around, looking for something I could use to attack the creature.

Even a rock was better than nothing.

I saw nothing.

The prison guard I helped earlier was ahead of me, next in line.

He flailed weakly, trying to pry the monster off him.

I heard the sickening series of cracks as one bone after another snapped in his ribcage.

It was all the same to the Desert Flower.

I stared up at the night sky and made a prayer.

For a miracle.

For something to save me.

I knew nothing would.

I thought about Egara among the stars, living a happy and full life.

And despite the situation I found myself in, I smiled.

To know he would live a long life was enough.

Resigned to my fate, I would face it and not flinch.

Not that I wasn't scared—I was terrified—but the one thing I had control over was myself.

"I'm ready," I said out loud.

Then I heard a whirring noise.

Not the high-pitched buzz of the drones—although I would have taken that too if they'd come to rescue me—but a deeper, more powerful sound.

I thought back to when I'd last heard it.

The shuttlecraft.

And there.

A light blinked on the craft's underside, its engines glowing a soft shade of blue as it flew directly for the monster.

I recognized the shape and model of the craft immediately.

It wasn't so long ago I was on board it.

"Egara!" I said.

My throat tightened and my chest grew congested.

My face curled up and tears threatened to roll down my cheeks.

He'd come back!

Had he come back for me?

Had my prayers been answered?

Would I get to see him again?

And hold him?

If I could do that, I could meet my maker without too much regret.

Then the smile slid from my face.

The shuttlecraft was coming in too shallow, too fast, for him to crash.

He would put himself directly in the Desert Flower's reach.

It was a fraction of a second after I had that thought that the Desert Flower tilted upward and peered at the shard of technology diving headlong toward it.

It raised its tendrils but not high enough.

The shuttlecraft smashed into the monster, emitting a harsh blue-white explosion that tore through it, blinding me, and turning the world white.