Page 5

The noise came from ahead of me – where I spot two downcast, short men wearing long, brown robes. I press myself against the side of the hallway and make myself as small and flat as possible – clutching the knife hidden at my belt until they walk on by.

My eyes never leave the two men as they pass me. They’re dressed like monks…

…but you can never be too careful.

The two men pass by me without a glance – oblivious to my wild anxiety at their presence. The two of them look even more gaunt and hungry than I do – like they need physical sustenance as well as the spiritual kind.

Hopefully, they’ll get it when they arrive. I swallow down my fear. Those men are just two more lost souls – hoping for a better life on X12 just like I am.

I wait until they’re gone, and then keep walking down the hallway…

That’s when I hear it.

It’s a muffled sound that instantly triggers a flashback in my mind – the sound of helpless prey being caught in the jaws of a predator.

Only, this sound is specific – chillingly unforgettable. I described it accurately – but that sound evokes such a sharp reaction from me because I know it’s only human prey that sounds like that. What I heard was a noise that only emerges from human lips, at the moment when panic turns a rational brain into that of a frightened, feral creature.

My hand instantly drops to the knife at my belt. I yank it from its sheath, clutching the handle tightly as I continue to hear that faint, muffled noise emerging frominsidethe walls of this hallway.

My heart is racing. The knife is slick in my sweaty palm.

Nevertheless, I steel my nerves and press my ear to the wall.

Am I imagining things?

“Please! No!”

I’m not imagining it – I reallydohear that voice.

I press my ears against the cold alloy of the wall, struggling to make out the words I hear on the other side of it. My heart races. I flatten my palms against the wall, running them up and down the long, flat hallway as I slide closer and closer towards the source of the sound. As I go, I press my fingertips against the metal, looking for a weak point or hidden doorway.

Nothing gives – until it does.

My fingers catch on an almost invisible crack in the sleek wall, and a panel bends inward under the pressure of them.

Cold sweat beads on my brow.

A hidden compartment? A secret deck?

Somewhere on the Elnor that passengers like me weren’t supposed to know about?

All I do know is that something horrible is happening on the other side of that wall, and if I don’t do something about it now, I’ll be as guilty as those perpetrating whatever atrocity it is.

I wish it didn’t have to be that way – I’d rather be facing anything but this – yet, I have no choice. Even if the ‘old me’ is dead, some of her instincts are still hard-wired into my tired, aching body – and I wince as I squeeze shut my eyes and try to find my courage.

It’s still missing, even as I kick the panel as hard as I can and force it open.

The loose panel swings open – and the force of my kick sends me stumbling forward into the dark chamber beyond.

This isn’t one of the modular dormitory cells, attached to the central spire of the Elnor and removed or reattached by space-crane at each destination. This dark section of the vessel is part of the deep innards of the craft; stretching off into the sub-structure.

My eyes adjust quickly to the darkness – and focus on a hulking man shoving a woman down onto the cold, metal deck - roughly wrenching her legs apart.

His big hands flail as he tries to shove them beneath her clothing, reaching for her groin. They only stop at the sound of my entrance – as I trip forward through the broken panel, stumbling and barely catching my balance.

The man’s head turns.

Fear grips me.