Page 3 of Black Mamba

She steps out of my grip and brushes me off. “Don’t be ridiculous! I told you. We’re not leaving. Get that silly thought out of your head. Supreme Commander Volp said everything is being handled.”

“I just saw a man get shot in the head!” I shout.

Mom draws back, pulling her robe tighter, an expression of alarm flitting across her face. “At the Hushed Gatherings?”

“No, down on floor ten.”

A look of shock falls across her features. “You went down to floor ten?”

“There’s no food left on the upper levels! Listen to me!”

“My goodness, don’t yell at me. It’s probably because of the holiday. I’m sure the soldiers will handle it. We just have to be patient. We have plenty of stock for now, we’ll be fine.”

“I think we’ve run out of patience…” I trail off, imagining the blood spraying out from the man’s head. Shocked, the man lifted his hand like he wasn’t sure what had happened before dropping to the floor.

Everyone started running and screaming. Caught in the fray, I ran as well. I ran all the way back to my parents’ unit on floor sixteen, thankful that the dim lights of the ship remained on the entire way despite their near-constant flickering.

“Don’t be so dramatic. Supreme Commander Volp assured us everything was being taken care of. Next time don’t go sneaking off to one of the lower caste floors, it’s unsafe. You heard him about the alien…”

“Mom,” I whisper, taking another breath to stifle my panic. “I’m going to leave. I’m going to the family ship tonight and I’m leaving. Please, please come with me.”

“And go where?” Dad cuts in, walking up behind Mom. He’s wearing a spacesuit made of blue silk. Typical evening attire for Dad.

“Before your sister’s performance?” Mom asks.

“Outside of here before things get worse. Please come with me,” I beg. “We can all get on the ship, even Mateo, and wait until things… hopefully blow over.”

Dad sighs and places his hands on his hips. “We’re not leaving, Elena. You really are overreacting. I trust in Volp, and you should too. He was made Supreme Commander of this ship for a reason.”

“We’re not leaving…”

“We’re not…”

My parents’ voices fade away as the lush green world outside fills my vision. Barely comprehending it now, much in the same way I didn’t want to acknowledge what my mom and dad were telling me, all I do is stare numbly.

I made it off The Dreadnaut. I survived. I survived because I listened to my gut and left.

But I couldn’t convince my parents to come with me. Neither could my sister upon her return.

I tried. We tried.

Unclasping the straps crisscrossed over my chest, my straining fingers stretch outward from being locked tightly for too long. Dropping my gaze from the forest to my hands, I watch them tremble. Clamping them into fists to subdue their movements, I reach for my buckle and unstrap my body from the ship’s pilot seat. My dad’s seat.

I try not to think about it as I face the back of the empty ship.

Past the dome front where the ship’s controls are is an open area with plush white seats. They line the ship’s exterior walls until they reach the middle-back where the seating, bar, and kitchen area are located. Those seats are where my sister and I sat on the rare occasion we took the family ship off The Dreadnaut.

They’re all empty.

Beyond the seats, the space widens into a lounge and bar area with a crescent moon-shaped table to the left, and the bar and kitchen on the right. Stools line the sleek, but empty, silver and white counter in front of the bar. A bar that would be covered in hors d’oeuvres if my parents were here…

At the rear is a hallway that leads to the bedrooms and bathroom.

In the middle of the floor, between the moon-shaped lounge table and the bar, is a hatch door to the ship’s maintenance room.

I stand from my chair and walk through the ship and into the hallway that’s laid out like a T. With three bedrooms in total and a large bathroom in the middle rear, there’s a room on either side with one more—my parents’—lining the back wall to the right. The hallway to the left leads to the ship’s hatch.

I walk past my sister’s and my rooms, which face each other at the front, and dash toward the giant mirror that hides the bathroom door. The mirror slides into the wall at my approach and I duck inside. Moving to the small private toilet room in the back corner, I open the door and drop to my knees. The room lights up, casting everything in a warm golden glow. The top of the toilet lifts and I grab its sides, leaning over it.