It was a perfectly preserved car.
Its body was long and stylish, and glossy red. There was only room for two people to sit in it. It was long in the hood, and short at the back.
God, it was beautiful. A work of art.
Nera touched the still-shiny metal. “It seems…far less modern than I imagined Terran transports to be.”
“It’s not a model that was manufactured at the time of Earth’s demise. It’s a classic car.”
She frowned. “It was already old.”
“Yes. A collectors’ item. I have some records on ancient automobiles. I think this is one of the cars listed. A 1964 1/2 Ford Mustang.”
“Priceless,” she murmured.
“Yes.” It would fetch a fortune on the open market. And would look very nice in a museum where the galaxy’s children could marvel at a piece of their history.
Nera moved through the darkness. “There’s another one.”
“God, a 1965 Shelby Cobra.” Also in pristine condition, as though the apocalypse had never happened. “The glass covering outside seems to have preserved everything in here.”
“I like this one.” It had a sportier look to it. It was a royal blue, with two white stripes down the center.
There were three cars in total. A 1966 Dodge Charger rounded out the small collection. Avril was going to go into convulsions.
“Look at this.” Nera called out.
He moved to join her, and saw she was looking through what had been an office. There was a late-model Terran comp on the table.
“This must have been some sort of car showroom,” he mused. “Collect what you can. I’ll contact Avril. She’ll need to organize a team to retrieve these.” He tried the comm, but all he got was static. “We’ll need to go topside.” He checked his Sync, his pulse jumping. “We have seven minutes to get back to the ship before the radiation starts to affect us.”
Nera carefully placed the comp in a net bag she’d opened. “Roger that. Let’s go.”
As they headed back past the cars, Nik was already planning. “Avril said theDrakeis equipped with a cargo lift. We’ll need to widen the opening, and then bring it down and use an exosuit to get the cars onto the lift.”
He looked up at the place where they’d climbed in. “What the hell?”
The opening was closed. Covered over by rocks.
Nera pulled out her laser pistol. “Stand back.”
She shot at the opening and rocks rained down. She’d opened a small hole, but it wasn’t big enough for them to fit through.
“Lift me up,” she said.
He gripped her waist and hefted her up. In a lithe move, she leaped up and settled on his shoulders.
As she pulled rocks out of the opening, Nik clamped his hands on her slim, muscular thighs to steady her. He tried tostay focused on getting out alive, and not the fact that Nera’s legs were wrapped around his head.
“There.” She threw a large rock down. “That’s enough.” She gripped the edge of the hole and pulled herself out. She looked back down. “Come on.”
He backed up a little, then ran and jumped. He grabbed the edge and with a grunt, pulled himself out.
An alarm on his Sync chimed. A warning flashed on the screen and a modulated computer voice said, “You have reached maximum radiation exposure limit.” He looked up and met nebula-colored eyes.
“Run.”
They took off, arms pumping. They sprinted past the buildings, scrambled up the dune. As they crested the mountain of black sand, Nik felt his chest tightening, his breathing becoming labored. He glanced back behind them.
