“Keep moving, sexy.”
The staircase ends in a short, unlit
serviceway—the only light comes from the end of the hall, which
opens out on the commons area. I can hear the faint rush of water,
and the walls around us dance with red dappled reflections, cast
from the fountain just beyond the doorway. I don’t know what I’m
expecting—angry colonists, maybe, armed with pitchforks and crying
for our blood, I can’t seem to shake that image from my mind—and my
heart begins to race with each step we take away from the stairs. I
have to fight the urge to turn and run away, back down the stairs,
out the airlock door and to the Semper Fi, and I don’t care
if I don’t know the new security code, I don’t care if I don’t know
the route, it’s safeback there. But with Dylan’s hands on
my waist, I can keep putting one foot in front of the other just
because I know he’s here with me, he’s going to stay with me, we’ll
get through this together.
* * * *