Mark saw that her eyes were focused on the windows—the poor thing had probably never been in a Berg before. He expected Trina to comfort the girl, but she did nothing. Just stood staring blankly at the floor again.
“Look, it’s going to be okay,” Mark said, squatting down to Deedee’s height. He’d barely done it when the ship bounced in a pocket of air. Deedee screamed again, and this time she tore her hand free from Trina and ran, bolting out of the cockpit before anyone could grab her.
“Hey!” Mark shouted, already on the move. A flash of her being vaporized almost stilled his heart. He sprinted after the girl, just catching sight of her rounding the bend of the hallway outside the cockpit. In the direction of the cargo room. “Come back!”
But she was gone. Mark sped after her, but he’d only gone a few frantic steps when he caught sight of her again, standing completely still, staring at something in front of her. Mark didn’t stop until he reached Deedee’s side and saw what had her attention.
The infected man who’d stolen the Transvice was just outside the door to the cargo room, the weapon clutched in his hands. And he had it aimed at Deedee.
“Please,” Mark whispered over the thumping of his icy heart. “Please don’t.” He held out a hand toward the man, put the other on Deedee’s shoulder. “I’m begging you. She’s only—”
“I know who she is!” the stranger shouted, a line of spit hitting his chin. His arms trembled and his knees shook. Matted dark hair hung down from his filthy head, framing a pale, scratched face that shone with sweat. He leaned up against the frame of the door as if he needed it to stand. “Sweet little girl? That’s probably what you think she is?”
“What are you talking about?” Mark wondered how he was supposed to talk to someone this far past reason.
The man was obviously beyond any hope. His eyes said it all. “Brought the demons, she did.” He stabbed the Transvice in the air to emphasize his point. “I was in the village with her. They came down on us like the flares themselves, lightning and rain of poison. Left us to die or worse, and look at her now! Even though she was hit. All fine and cute! Laughing at us all for what she’s done.”
“She had nothing to do with that,” Mark said. He could feel Deedee quaking under his hand. “Not a thing. How could she? She’s five years old at the most!” Anger seethed inside him—anger that he couldn’t hide.
“Nothing to do with it? That’s why she got shot and showed no sign of it? She’s some kind of savior to those demons, and I mean to send her back to them!”
The man lurched forward. He took two long steps, almost lost his balance, but somehow stayed on his feet. The Transvice was shaking in his hands but still pointing at Deedee.
Mark’s anger dissolved and was replaced by a huge lump of fear that lodged in his throat. Tears stung his eyes, he felt so helpless. “Please … I don’t know what to say to you. But I swear she’s innocent. We went to the bunker where the Bergs came from. We found out who’s behind the disease. They aren’t demons. They were just people. We think she’s immune—that’s why she didn’t get sick.”
“You shut up,” the man answered, ambling forward another couple of steps. He lifted the Transvice and aimed it at Mark’s face. “You’ve got the look about ya. Pathetic. Stupid. Weak in the knees. Demons wouldn’t even bother with someone like you. An utter waste of flesh.” He smiled, pulling his lips farther back than seemed possible. Half of his teeth were missing.
Something shifted deep down inside Mark. He knew what it was, even if he didn’t dare admit it: that bubble of insanity that was ready to burst for good. A rush of anger and adrenaline flooded him.
Rage formed in his chest and tore through his throat, released in a scream so loud he didn’t know he had the strength to create it. He rushed forward, leaping into action before the man could begin to process what was happening. Mark saw the man’s finger move, close on the trigger, but somehow, as if his burgeoning madness had momentarily heightened all of his senses one last time, Mark somehow outpaced him. He dove and swept his hand upward, knocking the weapon away as it shot a bolt of white heat. He heard the shot thump against the wall behind them.
His shoulder slammed into the man next, throwing him to the floor. Mark crashed on top of him but was already righting himself, getting his feet underneath him. He grabbed the man’s shirt and yanked him upward, tore the Transvice from his grasp and threw it to the ground. That was too easy a death for this psycho.
Mark started dragging him down the hallway, aware on some level that he himself had crossed into territory from which he wasn’t sure he’d come back.
Chapter 66