"Mase." Alarm spiked the white hairs up the back of my neck while I shook the holy shit out of him. "Mase, wake up. You have to get us in the air."
He bolted upright, always asleep with one mismatched eye open. "What's it?"
"In the air. Now. We're being tracked."
"How do you know?"
But I was already flinging myself out the cockpit door. What if someone was already here in the upper decks of the ship? What if they'd hurt someone? We were sitting ducks waiting to be plucked while parked on the edge of a farm. Raw panic sawed at my nerves, edged into my nightmares at what could be happening right now.
But what I should have been wondering was how the tracker key had wound up here after I'd dropped it. Every time I did wonder, though, all the holes in my memory fogged over with doubt. Had I not dropped it? Or if I had, had someone else brought it back onto this ship? I scrambled to remember while I braced myself against the frigid walls of the ship.