Page 8 of Black Mamba

If they got clear of the colony ship in time, she could be here, on Earth.

I couldn’t save my parents but maybe I can find her—save her.

The branches of the trees rustle out front and I face them, narrowing my eyes. Watching as the twigs and leaves eventually settle, I swear I see the outline of a face emerge from the shadows.

But when I blink, it’s gone.

FIVE

FREQUENCIES

Elena

“Hel… Is any… re…” I hear a distant thudding outside my door, an almost hollow sound deeper in the ship. “…lo…”

I push the pillow off my head with a groan. My hair covers my face and I sweep it away with another shorter groan. Finally able to see, I take in the half-empty bottle next to my bed and reach for it, barely waking before grabbing hold of it. Rising enough to drink, and then wincing through a couple of swigs, I accept the pain and burn as penance for being alive when so many others… aren’t.

“Hello!?” I hear the muffled shout. Then the thudding fills my ears again and I lower my bottle. Placing it on the table next to me, I shift my legs over the bed and stand. Nearly tripping on my feet as I walk to the door, I curse loudly as I catch myself against the wall. With a sigh, I rest my head on the cold, white plastic.

For days, there have been no broadcasts from Jenna. I’ve moved on to listening to her music between long bouts of hoping for a message from her.

“I’m either hearing things or I left the radio on,” I murmur, rolling my forehead back and forth, rubbing some of the tension out with the wall.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

I frown. The noise doesn’t sound like the radio. It also doesn’t sound like my sister’s music. Pulling away from the wall, I walk to the door and duck my head out, immediately nervous about what I might see outside the window.

At first I don’t see anything except splotches of green and blurriness. Stepping into the hallway, I get a better view of the entire curved dome. Spotting two figures standing on the left, I freeze as I take in their hands pressed up to the glass.

Survivors.

Other people!

I freeze at the thought. Ducking back into my room to grab my sweater and throw it over my tank top, I curse the hangover I’m suffering currently. Straightening my tank under my sweater, I glance down and give my clothes a onceover.

I appear unassuming. Less rich.

I’m aware resources are going to be scarce and that there are other people on this small spot of Earth. I’m not an idiot. I grew up on a ship with underprivileged people just floors below me. Hiding one’s caste was smart when traveling to the lower sectors of The Dreadnaut, especially when shopping or meeting someone.

My parents’ ship might be targeted for supplies. It’s bigger and fancier than most spaceships of its kind. Eventually, and depending on exactly who has come here—because I saw many other ships head to Earth—supplies might run low. Food, water, and medicine are going to be the most important things to have if help doesn’t get here fast enough.

I press my fingers into my temples and massage hard. Supply and demand. My tea shop…

I should make myself a cup right now. But I push the idea out.

Still, I’ve had so much time to ruminate between my bouts of drinking that I’m not sure if I’m surviving what’s happening to me or just thinking about surviving what’s happening.

Either way, I need to be careful.

I leave my room and speedwalk to the front, searching for the figures I spotted moments ago. Seeing something move behind the control panel, I slow down but continue walking closer. I spy two men, one dressed in a loose gray jacket and jeans and the other in a long-sleeved black shirt and blue pants, now traversing along the front and to the right. They appear to be in their late thirties, early forties. Older than me.

“Hey!” I shout at the same time the man in the loose gray jacket notices me. The other finds me soon after and soon they’re both squinting in my direction.

“Hey! There is someone in there!” the one with the long-sleeved black shirt says.

“I told you there had to be.” The other man turns to his companion. “They just had to be in the back, like I said. This ship isn’t wrecked like the other one.” Their voices are low through the thick glass, but I’m able to make out most of what they’re saying.

Are they from the ship behind me?