Fatal Containment

Fatal Containment - Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Cheryl was beginning to feel somewhat lightheaded as she struggled to wriggle her hands free from the straps that kept them pinned behind her back. There wasn't enough room to try to slip her arms under her feet, and besides, the bonds were too tight to attempt. She knew she was chafing the skin on her wrists, but she had to get her hands free if she was going to survive. She felt something else bump her crate. She called out but got no response. The air was getting desperately thin now, and it was getting harder to draw it into her lungs.

Another bump, and then another. Finally, something broke through the crate—a tool of some sort. Then Cheryl recognized it as one of the tools used by the damage control teams to break through compartments where the hatches didn't work.

Cheryl fought down another wave of panic as the air became even thinner. The hole in the crate should have let in the air from the room, but apparently, there wasn't any. In fact, what little air she had in the crate was now gone.

She felt herself fading into unconsciousness when she began to hear a hissing sound. She looked at the hole and saw an air hose protruding through. Someone was out there with a vac suit! She gasped in huge lungfuls of air as the stars swam in her vision. The hose remained for a few more seconds, and then it withdrew. She almost panicked again, but soon the hose returned, and then she knew what was happening. Whoever was out there had only one suit and was trying to provide air to her and themselves.

After several cycles like that, Cheryl looked through the hole and saw a woman's face looking back at her through a suit visor.

"Who are you?" she called out. She saw the woman's lips moving behind her suit's helmet visor but couldn't hear her with no atmosphere to carry the sound. Cheryl was in an uncomfortable position trying to peer through the hole. Then the woman's face was gone and replaced by a tiny data pad screen. Words scrolled across the screen.

It's me, Sandy Doval, the screen said. Candice said you were in trouble. Sandy took back the data pad and typed on it once more. When it returned to the crate, it held a different message.

I wasn't sure where you were, but Candice transmitted a mental image to me. It's a capability of the system we don't advertise because it takes a very strong image for it to work. What she gave me is an image of crates and labeled cargo-one.

The tablet was withdrawn again and then returned with the rest of the message.

So I borrowed a suit and slipped in with the repair crew. They didn't notice an extra vac suit.

Cheryl stretched as far as she could and pushed her lips close to the hole. Speaking very slowly, she mouthed the words, "Why is there no air in here?"

She knew the amount of air in the crate was barely enough to carry any sound at all but hoped the other person could read her lips. Fortunately, Sandy had thought of that. The little device had a camera that transcribed her speech into text on the screen for Sandy to read. Sandy turned the tablet around to read it and then typed another message.

I'm going to go and tell them I found you, the tablet read. I see one of them coming over now. I'll just lay the air canister hose here so you can use it. Maybe I can share theirs.

Cheryl saw the air hose return to the crate and waited. She was very glad to be getting rescued. She didn't want to think about what might have happened if Sandy hadn't figured out where she was. And how did she get out of her stateroom? Her need to know all the facts was getting the best of her. That was going to be her next question.

But the hose simply remained there just inside the hole. Cheryl wondered if Sandy was talking to one of the damage control team now. But instead of someone prying open the crate, there was a hard jolt against the crate, and the hole went dark.