Chương 20: Chapter 20: Quinn

Quinn didn't care if he found anyone alive. He just wanted to get away from Minnesota and the twins. As he stood outside the twisted hulk of the crashed Day Wanderer and took in the vast wealth that went into creating the wasted mess, he started to feel angry. He wasn't sure where the anger was coming from, exactly, only that it rose from the depths of him, filling him with a fire he never felt before, like a bubbling volcano rising to the surface, so close to exploding he felt blisters would break out on his skin if he wasn't able to get it out.

He turned from Minnesota after tearing the map from the wall and hurried the other way, deeper into the ship, glancing once over his shoulder to make sure the twins hadn't followed him. As he rounded the corner out of their view, Quinn paused and hefted a chunk of light fixture

blocking his path and heaved it into the wall panel, the force of the impact shattering the damaged material. Anger partially spent, he hurried on, looking for more things to take out his frustration on.

It wasn't fair! He and his father were forced to live hand to mouth for years since Eliza died, first when his father couldn't work because of his grief and later when he was forced to stop from drinking. Not to mention Quinn having to give up his own dreams to work the mine just to keep them alive. No one cared about them. No one tried to help or offered a hand. No one said, "It's okay, Quinn, we know you want to be a doctor, a healer, not a grunt underground. We'll take care of you since your folks took care of the mine for so many years so you can have your dream." No one. Even his father failed him.

And here he was on this massive ship symbolizing everything he knew he could have had. School meant a good chance at getting off the colony, maybe being a spacer doctor or working on Earth, who knew? The possibilities were endless. But his were cut short and cut off and kicked down a hole into the dark and the dust to serve the rest of the galaxy from his place of toiling obscurity.

He never showed his resentment before, never allowed it out. He hadn't time. His father's collapse forced him to grow up fast and make choices before they starved. But being inside this ship, seeing how casually such wealth was destroyed, Quinn's old, seething resentment came surging to the surface and drove him wild.

He took his time as he wreaked havoc through the ship. Got inventive with a metal bar and a lovely sculpture exiting one of the promenades. Used the same bar on the odd light or glass panel hiding wiring or pristine figurines depicting the fleet of ships leading to this one. He paused as he smashed the last of them to crumbs, held his blows over the final piece in the case, but only because he knew it, recognized it, felt the connection to it in his heart. It brought him back to himself, settled his rage down, calmed the volcano.

When Quinn moved on the small, precise figure of the Horizon was in his pocket.

He came across a hatch and a ladder reaching up into the ship and remembered the map he tore from the wall. He took a moment to study it, finding he was near to the dining area Minnesota pointed out originally, only a couple of decks away. He climbed with ease, taking his time, not expecting to find anyone alive in the wreckage, but knowing Minnesota would demand an answer and finding he himself was at least curious.

He found the right level, but had to struggle to open the door. Metal tables and artworks lay amid scattered linens and cutlery, smashed plates and cups piled everywhere. He felt the simmer start to boil again and pushed it down. It didn't matter anyway. It wasn't like there was anything he could do to change it. But his old mantra didn't seem to be working as well as it used to.

By the time he made it into the main dining area, he was sweating from the effort of clearing a path. He paused at the doorway and looked around, feeling awe despite his temper. The massive room was lined with false windows that had probably shown realistic, three-dimensional scenes from the most beautiful spots on all the colonies. He spent hours watching the one in the mine manager's office as a child, fascinated by the slow pan and change of scenery he was sure he could reach out and touch if he could just get past the smooth pane of glass.

A central column ran through the room. From his floor plan, it marked the exact center of the ship. He approached it and noticed one of the panels jammed open at the bottom, revealing a shining surface beyond. Curiosity winning out, he felt around the edge, tugging at it, but with no luck. He was about to abandon his investigation when he noticed a control console uncovered beside it.

Quinn tried the keys, but the lock was coded. Frustrated, he kicked at the panel and was surprised when the thing slid back into place and hissed open. It stuck partway, the damage from the crash enough to keep it from functioning properly. He heard soft scuffling sounds from inside and a girl's voice. Not sure what to expect, Quinn leaned in and gripped the edge of the door, planting his feet and gave it a heave.

When it released it did so at once, sending him falling backward. He landed hard on the thin carpet, staring as two teens tumbled out of the hole he made and into a girl puddle on the floor in front of him. It took them a moment to untangle themselves from each other and as they did, he felt an instant attraction. They were both beautiful, but there was something vulnerable about the girl with the almond eyes and long, black hair stirring his blood. An innocent quality about her made him want to go to her and hold her close, to tell her everything would be okay.

He shook free of his fantasy thanks to the harsh demand of the second girl. "Some rescue," she snapped.

That got Quinn's back up. He scowled at both of them, pulling himself to his feet and driving his hands into his pockets, refusing to help as they struggled to rise. The nasty girl with the green eyes and practically no clothes used the sweeter girl as a lever then left her to fend for herself as

she took a step forward, looking like she owned the place or something and gave him the once over.

"I hope the rest of the extraction team are cleaner than you are."

Quinn almost left them there. By then the other girl was up on her feet. She stepped in front of Miss Nasty-Pants.

"Thank you for getting us out," she said, her voice so soft and low it took him time to adjust after the strident tone of the other one. "Where are we, please?"

"New Paltos," he managed, voice gruffer than he would have liked.

"A colony planet?" Her delicate frown stirred his protective instincts again. "Then we landed safely?"

"You could say that." He wasn't trying to be sarcastic with her. It was just that her friend was such a bitch and now he had his guard up.

"What's your name?" At least she seemed really nice. "Quinn," he said, getting himself under control. "Quinn Piers." "I'm Sun Chang," she said.

"And I'm Bronwyn Lamont," the bitch snapped. "Daughter of Governor Arthur Lamont?

And believe me, he is going to... to..." her voice drifted off. For a moment, he saw beyond her mask, caught her looking at Sun with a terrible hurt. "Daddy," she whispered.

Sun just nodded.

"Where is everyone?" He asked, finally gaining the upper hand.

"We were attacked," Sun said, looking ready to say more. But they were interrupted. "Same as us," Minnesota said as she strode in, the twins and another boy behind her.

"Sounds like it was even the same damned aliens."

Quinn absorbed the news while he examined the newest member. The boy looked about Minnesota's age, slightly taller, but with the same hurt expression as Bronwyn. His eyes were red-rimmed, indicating his grief was more recent.

Sun noticed it right away.

"Sammel," she said, going to the boy. "Where is Archer?" He shook his head and started to cry.

Minnesota came to stand next to Quinn as Sun comforted the boy.

"They were attacked by multiple ships," she said in a low voice, as though not wanting to intrude. "Everyone taken, exactly like what happened to us."

"We still don't know why," Quinn whispered back. Minnesota's tight headshake answered that question.

"Sammel O'Malley," she said of the boy, "and his brother Archer. Their father was the captain. I guess his brother died on the bridge bringing them in."

Quinn felt an instant pang of regret. He was thinking as the ship came in that whoever was piloting the thing had a lot of balls.

"I'm going to keep looking around," he told her, moving off before she could stop him. He still wasn't in the mood to be around people, especially when there was so much sadness in the air. Not when it triggered his own to cut through him.

Quinn spent the next half-hour combing through the top three decks and the bridge level. He took a quick peek inside and winced at the damage. There was no way anyone could have survived the destruction. The room was already flooding with thick, red dirt from the gaping wound in the nose of the ship.

He was headed back, half a level down, when he heard a noise. Quinn froze on the ladder, listening. It came again, a soft bang, like someone was trapped. Back up a level, he stuck out his head, but the sound was gone. He descended to his original position and waited. This time, he caught it. Quinn climbed out onto the deck and paused. Whatever the noise was, it was coming from down the corridor.

He followed it, noticing he was in a safety section. The walls were lined with escape modules. Quinn took his time, listening at each one, until he found what he was looking for.

The control panel was easy to find. He keyed the lock. The cover hissed, stale air making him cough. Crouching, Quinn took a hold of the long, narrow tube, pulling it out toward him. As the module cleared the docking port, a beam of bright light sheared over his shoulder, impacting the wall behind him in a shower of sparks and melting metal. Quinn threw himself to the ground with a shout, covering his head with his arms, waiting for the next shot to kill him.

***

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