20. Astrid

20

ASTRID

Whatever he gave me didn't knock me out for long. At least, I was pretty sure it didn't.

My head was pounding, and I tried to lift a hand to rub at it, but my arms were tied down beside me. It was dark. Or my vision was busted. I couldn't tell which. I squinted, and all I could make out was blinking lights in front of me.

"Hurry it up!" That was Vastrien's angry voice, but he sounded like he was screaming from the other side of the room.

"It's not designed to launch yet." I didn't recognize the other man. But whatever they were trying to do, I had to get out of there before they succeeded.

My vision gradually cleared, adjusting to the dim surroundings as the drug's effects wore off. With each passing second, more details came into focus, and a sinking feeling grew in the pit of my stomach.

The blinking lights I'd noticed earlier formed a pattern now—instrument panels, switches, and gauges. There was no mistaking it. I was strapped into what looked like a cockpit, surrounded by unfamiliar controls and readouts. My mind raced, trying to make sense of the situation. Why would they put me there? I had zero experience piloting any kind of craft, let alone whatever this was.

Then it hit me. Vastrien wasn't giving me a chance to escape. No, this was far more sinister. He wanted me to crash. The realization sent a chill down my spine. He was setting me up, planning to make my death look like a tragic accident. I had to find a way out of this, and fast.

I didn't need him explaining the whole plan. It was pretty simple, actually. Stick me in a craft, tie me to the chair, and let nature take its course.

That barely counted as murder.

Zyrus.

I wanted him here so much it hurt, a deep ache in my chest that threatened to overwhelm me. Not just for the rescue, though that would be very much appreciated given my current predicament. No, I needed him by my side to give me strength, to anchor me in this moment of fear and uncertainty. His steady presence would have been a lifeline, helping me focus and find a way out of this mess. But he wasn't there, and I had to face this alone. I clenched my jaw, pushing down the longing and forcing myself to concentrate on the task at hand. Escape first, reunite later.

Ugh. I never would have been in this mess if I had just waited for him. Or left a note. Or done literally anything but run straight for danger like an idiot.

Was Alice still alive?

She had to be. If not, all of this was for nothing, and I was about to die and never get to know what life would be like with my mate. All that fear, all that hesitation, it was gone now.

If Zyrus were here right now, I'd kiss him and never let him go.

But he wasn't. And Vastrien and the other guy were bickering too quietly for me to hear.

I didn't think they knew I was awake yet. Their hushed voices still carried on, oblivious to my growing awareness. That gave me a small advantage, but for how long?

I struggled against my bonds some more, twisting my wrists, searching for any give. The straps bit into my skin, unyielding. Whoever had tied me up knew what they were doing. These weren't amateur knots; they were expertly crafted to keep me firmly in place.

Where was I exactly? The air felt stale and carried a faint metallic scent.

It was too quiet to be the normal transport depot. Even in the middle of the night that place was bustling with ships coming and going. Time was a polite fiction on a space station, especially from ships coming from hundreds of light years away.

This had to be a repair port, one for smaller craft.

The one in Sector J.

That was where they'd lured me. The repair port in Sector J, currently undergoing maintenance. No one would think to search there, its isolation making it the perfect spot for Vastrien's scheme. The realization sank in my gut like a stone.

My situation was dire. Even if I managed to break free from these restraints, I'd need to sprint across the entire sector before finding anyone who could assist. The vast, empty corridors stretched out in my mind, a daunting obstacle course. And I had no clue how many of the station's crew were in Vastrien's pocket. For all I knew, every face I encountered could be an enemy, ready to drag me back to this death trap. The odds were stacked against me.

I had to put that worry aside. All that mattered right now was getting out of the ship before they launched it.

There was a small light blinking on the dash, and I read the warning.

Low oxygen.

Damn it. Vastrien wasn't taking any chances. Even if I managed to get free and somehow get this thing under control, I'd only have the air I was currently breathing, and once that ran out, I'd be dead.

I became acutely aware of every breath, the rise and fall of my chest suddenly loud in my ears. I tried to keep them shallow and spaced, counting the seconds between each inhale. But the more I focused on it, the deeper I breathed, my lungs desperate for the air they were sure they were about to lose. The metallic taste of fear coated my tongue as I fought against the urge to gulp down oxygen. My heart raced, pumping blood that seemed to roar through my veins, each beat a reminder of how precious little time I had left. The edges of my vision started to blur. I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms, using the sharp sting to anchor myself and resist the temptation to hyperventilate.

Stop it.

I'd been through worse. I'd survived an explosion that had killed hundreds of my friends and co-workers. I'd spent a decade eking out existence on a planet with few supplies and no knowledge of rough living. I didn't shrink away from hard situations.

And I knew how to handle freaking knots.

Rope, that was something we had plenty of down on Nebula. Not only the stuff that had survived the mine explosion, but we'd managed to learn how to weave it out of the vines and fibers available to us on land. I wasn't going to let a bit of rope be my downfall.

I tested the bonds again. And there was give on my left side. Not enough to wriggle out, but it was a start. I worked my wrist back and forth, ignoring the way it burned against my skin. I'd be red and raw by the time I was out of this, but I'd be free.

That was all that mattered.

Outside the craft, I heard the metallic clank of gears turning, and my head snapped forward. Massive bay doors loomed before me, their imposing presence a stark reminder of my precarious situation. Those doors would lead to the airlock, the final barrier between me and the cold void of space where they planned to launch my ship into oblivion. The sound of machinery echoed through the chamber, each grinding noise a countdown to my potential demise. I gritted my teeth, redoubling my efforts to free myself. The rough texture of the rope bit into my skin as I twisted and pulled, but I ignored the pain. My eyes darted around the cockpit, searching for anything that might aid my escape. Time was running out, and I could almost feel the vacuum of space reaching for me through those unyielding doors.

The clanking stopped, and more cursing came from where Vastrien and his lackey were working.

I was running out of time.

I yanked my arm as hard as I could, biting my lip until I tasted blood. It felt like I was going to pull my thumb off, but then with a pop, my hand came free.

It hurt so much I wanted to cry. The last thing I wanted to do was use my aching hand to undo the knot holding my other arm in place. My fingers felt like sausages, and I wanted to plunge them in an ice bath for the next several days.

There was no time for complaint.

The metal started to clang again, and the bay doors in front of me opened inch by inch.

My ship was probably on a conveyor of some kind. I had no way to stop it. I just had to get out.

I worked the knot with quickly numbing fingers, slippery with blood. I dug in, desperate to loosen the knot, and it felt like no matter what I did, it wouldn't work.

Until the knot went slack, and the ropes dropped to the floor.

I opened the door to the cockpit just a crack and slid out, careful on the steps, hoping I wasn't making any noise. The rest of the craft must have been between me and wherever Vastrien and his minion were, and I said a little prayer of thanks to anyone who was listening.

I was carefully climbing down a ladder off the ship, but before I could step off, I noticed the drop.

It was open under me, an entire maintenance bay that went down two or three stories, a sheer drop I'd be lucky to survive.

The clanging of the bay doors stopped.

And then the craft began to move.