Thistle in the Sky | #NONC2022 | ✔

Chapter Eighteen

Farah stared at Gemi in dismay. "The radio room?"

Gemi nodded. The look in her eyes was a mix of terror and determination, and she held the tracking card tightly against her chest. This was their hope of getting out of here.

"We can't yet," said Farah. "That's where it's still hunting. Baskoro is down there."

Gemi's eyes widened, and she swallowed hard. Farah again expected distrust from her, but it never came.

"Let's go to the cargo hold, then," said Gemi. "If we can hide there, we can wait for it to think the ship is empty and leave."

That felt like a much better plan. The two of them crept back to the decks. There, they wasted no time scooting for a side catwalk. Farah expected a tentacle to plunge through the wall at any moment and whip around Gemi or herself, but the monster overhead was so focused on Baskoro, it neglected to watch the rest of the ship. They reached the backup control room safely and took off down the keel catwalk from the back. This time, they reached the cargo hold.

"Over here." Farah caught Gemi's sleeve and towed her towards the crate where she'd left Kaz. The cargo hold wasn't quite dark anymore. Two holes punctured its far wall. Though no tentacles remained and no larger gashes indicated the jellyfish had withdrawn with captured prey, Farah's heart still beat in her throat as she reached the crate. She knocked a quick pattern on the side of it, then lifted the lid to find her brother safe inside. He saw Gemi and scooched over to make room, looking weak with relief at their safety.

Farah's eyes skipped back to the radio operator. There was room for the three of them in the crate, but closing it would shut them in together, in the darkness, with Gemi unavoidably close to Kaz. Farah had never seen her carry a weapon, but that wasn't a guarantee she didn't have one. Farah probed her mind. There was nothing malicious there. If anything, the fear went the other way around... Farah was the one with the knife, and Gemi's thoughts kept flitting towards the possibility that she herself was the target here. That Farah might want revenge for the way the rest of the crew had treated her. She had not yet moved to climb into the crate.

"Fafa?" said Kaz. They had been standing only a moment, but already it felt like an eternity. "It's been here twice already. Hurry."

Something thumped the wall of the hold. The light dimmed briefly through one of the holes, as the rustle of another tentacle began to search for a way in.

Farah gestured Gemi into the crate, then scrambled after her and swung the lid down overhead. Not a moment too soon. A crunching, splintering sound began to work its way through the wall of the hold. Kaz's hand found Farah's and squeezed it tightly. She gripped it back. Fear thickened the darkness like the air had turned to tar and trapped them here. Farah tried not to focus on it. Feeling the deaths of two crew members was not an experience she was keen to repeat, but though retreating from others' minds was easier than staying, she could not bring herself to tune out Kaz. He buried his face in her shoulder as the trembling in his hand increased. With a final crackle, the tentacle breached the cargo-hold wall.

A hideous slithering sound uncoiled across the floor.

The tentacle didn't move like a snake. It moved like a worm, random and irregular, responding only to whatever it encountered as it thrust further into the hold. It hit a crate and coiled up against it. Then slithered over it, probed the lid and around the edges. Finding nothing, it slithered off and moved to the next one. Farah could scarcely force herself to breathe. All three of them sat rigid, listening as the tentacle approached. Now their lives rested on an inch of wood, and Farah's decision to trust it.

The tentacle hit the stacked bean-and-lentil bags. Farah lifted a hand and felt around the lid overhead. It had no handle. The only irregularity she could find was a nail halfway hammered into the wood. She hooked her fingers around it and put her full weight into pulling down. The tentacle crawled upward. Farah felt the lid shudder as the powerful, fleshy tip probed its edge. With the right angle, it would be able to expose them. The probe came again. Farah grimaced as the nail cut into her fingers, but she couldn't let go.