Chapter 19 · She Pulled the Trigger

The station was dying around us.

Not figuratively. Literally. The lights were cycling red to black, red to black, and somewhere deep in the hull something was venting atmosphere in short angry bursts. The console Senna had bled into was still glowing, but the countdown in the corner of the holo-display said we had maybe four minutes before the whole place locked us out.

Or locked us in.

"Move." Senna was already halfway down the corridor, one hand still wrapped in the torn edge of her sleeve. Blood was seeping through. She didn't slow down.

I moved.

The coordinates had dumped us here. A station that shouldn't exist. A station that was broadcasting my own goddamn distress call on a loop, which meant someone had been waiting for me to show up. The question was whether they were still here.

The corridor split. Senna went left without asking. I followed because I didn't have a better plan and because my arm still hurt where she'd grabbed me back on the ship. The pain had pulled me out of whatever the hell Echo-7 had shoved into my head, but the edges of it were still there. Flashes.