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couple times and it merely clicked.

Edgar looked at me, Romy and Marcum, who had finally climbed out of the cart. “Get to the choppa!” he yelled.

Marcum and Romy just looked at him.

Batista bit. “What the hell is a choppa?”

I rolled my eyes and explained he was going through an Arnold Schwarzenegger phase. Nobody knew who that was. We all turned toward the gut and started making our run for the airlock. Avery led the way, clearing a path through the (mostly) woozy crewmembers. Edgar was at the tail, pouring gunfire at Griss and his men, but also dropping a grenade every 100 feet or so to create more smoke and rubble for the followers to go through.

We were making good progress until we hit the galley, where a group of half a dozen Rox crew pushed us back. We were suddenly caught in a deadly crossfire, and I knew we were running out of ammo.

Avery looked at me. “Got any more tricks up your sleeve?”

As a matter of fact, I had one. “You know which sector lock that is?” I asked, pointing to the doorway separating us from Griss, about 30 feet behind us. Avery told me it was lock 8A.

I clicked my handheld and barked into it. “Okay Gary, hit the lights and shut 8A. Now!”

“Roger dodger!” he responded.

“Edgar!” I shouted, just as the gate slammed down and the ship went pitch black. “Do your thing! We’ve got 30 seconds, tops!”

See, right when the whole crew went to sleep, I’d signaled Gary to sneak into the on-board AI and just…wait. Infiltrating the system was easy enough, but once the Rox was alerted to his presence, they’d eject him in no time. So I had to choose just the right time for Gary to wreak havoc.

Edgar flipped on the night vision glasses I’d given him for this very moment. Then he yelled to Gary on his handheld. “GNR!”

I wasn’t sure what that meant when he said it, but a second later the Rox’s intercom began blasting an ancient rock song from a band called Guns N Roses.

As the strains of “Welcome to the Jungle” began to blare, Edgar moved to the front of our raiding party and his gun muzzle added the light and sound show to the music as he laid waste to the Rox crew, who were stuck in the dark without night vision glasses. Avery switched and took the rear guard.

We all hustled behind Edgar, through the galley and into the last stretch of the corridor. Bullets whizzed by my head, but our enemies were firing blind and I was pretty damn energized by the guitar riffs, to be honest. Even Marcum seemed to be keeping pace, at least that’s what I thought every time I saw a half-second of the ship thanks to one of Edgar’s gun blasts or grenade explosions.

“Oh, they found me –” Gary said, just as the lights flipped back on. No matter. I could see the airlock ahead of me. My legs burned from pushing the heavy cart, but there was no stopping me. I picked up the pace and flung myself and the cart through the door behind Romy and Marcum.

Batista was right on my heels and Avery was on hers. Once he crossed the threshold of the airlock, Batista slammed the red button and the door came down like an anvil. The Stang’s airlock door opened automatically and we hustled through.

Well, all of us except Avery, who had face-planted in the airlock connecting the Stang and the Rox. There was a slick, dark patch of fabric on his lower back. He’d been hit, and it wasn’t a glancing blow.

Chapter 22

“Get us the hell outta here!” I yelled as we shut the airlock.

Gary complied, as I could immediately see the Rox getting smaller through the window. I turned my attention to Avery, who was on the floor of the cargo bay. Batista kneeled over him, much like I knelt over her when I’d first carried her aboard the Stang.

His head and upper body were moving, but his legs were completely still. I considered where his wound was and felt a pang in my chest. My fears were confirmed when he told Batista he couldn’t feel his legs. There were a lot of things Gary knew how to fix and with any luck he could guide Batista to keeping my brother alive, but fixing a spinal injury likely wasn’t among those procedures.

“I have to go,” I said, trying to motivate my own legs to move, but also to tell them I couldn’t deal with the injury right now, even if I wanted to.

Avery gave me a sad smile. “If you don’t fly us out of here, none of us will ever walk again, not just me.”

I laughed half-heartedly and hurried back to the cabin, knowing that might be the last I’d see my brother alive. Again. Some of the anger welled back up, but there was no time for that.

“Glad you could join me,” Edgar said. He was already at his station and trying to plan our way out of this, though we were severely outgunned. I shot him a look that indicated I wasn’t in the mood for his attitude. To my surprise, he nodded apologetically. “I never had a problem with him.”

Which I guess was his way of saying he liked my brother.

“He’s not going to die, damnit, so you can go on not having a problem with him as soon as we haul ass out of here, BB.”

Edgar bit his tongue about my turning his nickname into an even shorter version. “He’s getting ready to fire.”

I looked on the monitor just in time to see the rail guns glow hot. I slammed my hands down on the console and ordered an evasive solution I’d specifically programmed for rail gun volleys.

The Stang banked so sharply, Edgar was thrown off his feet and his head dented the wall. I knew the maneuver was coming and had buckled into my

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