Page 228 of Red Scale Daddy
“Good enough!”
Roma slams her hand against the manual lever and starts hauling it down. It resists like it’s personally offended by the idea of opening, but she leans into it, muscles straining, teeth clenched.
“Dux,” she says, not looking at me, “help.”
I grab the second lever and pull. The mechanism groans, metal grinding against metal, every inch a fight.
Behind us, the creature bursts fully into the corridor.
It screams.
The sound is so loud in the enclosed space that it rattles my skull.
“Now would be a great time!” I shout.
“I am aware!” Roma snaps.
Pally’s voice cuts in, sharp with panic. “It’s opening! It’s opening!”
The door jerks, then slides a fraction of an inch.
Cold air blasts through the gap, sharp and thin, carrying the vast emptiness of space with it. It steals the heat from my face, bites into my lungs.
“Again!” Roma barks.
We pull harder.
The door opens another inch.
The creature charges.
I let go of the lever just long enough to turn and fire. The shot hits center mass, slowing it but not stopping it.
“Dux!” Roma snaps.
“I know!”
I grab the lever again, muscles screaming, and haul it down with everything left in me.
The door lurches open just enough to squeeze through.
“Go!” I shout.
Roma doesn’t argue this time. She grabs my arm and drags me through the opening as Pally yanks from the other side.
We spill into the service lock chamber, the door slamming shut behind us just as the creature hits it with bone-cracking force.
For a second, none of us move.
Then Pally laughs, breathless and a little unhinged. “Okay. Okay, we’re alive. Still not loving the trend, but alive.”
I push myself up, chest heaving, and look around.
The service lock is small, cramped, lined with emergency gear racks. Beyond the outer hatch, through a reinforced viewport, I can see it.
Roma’s ship.
It clings to the exterior hull like a stubborn thought, sleek and dark against the chaos of space. Debris drifts past it, spinning slowly. Beyond that, the stars burn cold and distant.
