Boneyards Read Online Free PDF Page B

asked, still clutching at Squishy.
    What made these people so damn clingy? She didn't remember scientists being clingy before.
    “They are,” Squishy said, “but you're not.”
    She pushed at the woman, and the woman stumbled, then started to run, letting her panic take over. They'd had drills here: Squishy had made sure of that when she arrived, but apparently no one had thought about what the drills actually implied.
    And this was no drill.
    Her ears ached from the sirens. Then the stupid automated voice started up again.
    Emergency evacuation under way. Proceed to your designated evac area ….
    She tuned it out, counting the scientists as they passed. There was no way she could count a thousand people, not that all of them would run past her anyway. But she was keeping track. Numbers always helped her keep track.
    Her heart raced, as if it were running along with everyone else.
    Quint stumbled out of the side corridor, his face bloody, his shirt torn. He reached her and she flinched.
    “We have to evacuate,” he said, grabbing her.
    “I'm going to go,” she said. “I want to make sure everyone's out.”
    “They're out,” he said. “Let's go.”
    She shook her head. “You go. I'll catch up.”
    “Rosealma, we're not doing this again,” he said.
    “Yes, we are,” she said. “Get out now .”
    “I'm not leaving you,” he said
    “Oh, for God's sake,” she said. “Get out .”
    And she shoved him. He lost his balance, his feet hitting the jar. It skittered across the floor, and she looked at it, wondering what would happen if the damn thing shattered.
    He saw her. “Do we need that?”
    “Aren't you listening?” she said. “You're supposed to leave everything behind.”
    “You didn't make the rules,” he snapped.
    She pointed up, even though she wasn't sure if the automated voice came from “up” or if it came from some other direction. It did rather feel like the Voice of God.
    “Those aren't my rules,” she said. “They're the station's. Now, hurry. I'll be right behind you.”
    “Promise me you won't do anything stupid, Rosealma,” he said.
    “When have I done anything stupid?” she asked, sounding calmer than she felt. Sometimes she thought that everything she had done was stupid. Hell, she knew that everything she had ever done was stupid. That was why she was here, to make up for the stupid, and it wasn't coming out so well.
    “Rosealma—”
    “ Go ,” she said.
    He gave her an odd look and then hurried, half running, half walking down the corridor. Twice he glanced over his shoulder, as if he expected her to follow.
    She didn't.
    The corridor was emptying out. No one had run past in at least a minute. The damn sirens sounded even louder in the emptiness.
    Emergency evacuation under way. Proceed to your designated evac area ….
    “Shut up,” she whispered, wishing she could shut the stupid voice down. But she didn't dare. She needed everyone off this station.
    She needed everyone to live.

NINETEEN YEARS EARLIER
    T he mood on the skip was tense. The light was terrible. The tourist was lying next to the door, unconscious, blood covering his face. The three women running the dive stood near the control panel, looking down at him.
    None of them wanted to help him. Rosealma knew that without consulting with the other two.
    “He hasn't even gotten off the skip yet,” Turtle said. She was thin and looked strange in her environmental suit. She hadn't put on the helmet, and without it, she really did look like a turtle.
    She had gotten the nickname long before Rosealma met her, but Rosealma understood why the first time she'd seen Turtle in her environmental suit with her tiny head sticking out of it.
    “Just because they have money doesn't mean they have brains,” said the spacer-thin woman leading this little dive. She wouldn't tell anyone her name, insisting on being called Boss.
    “Look,” Rosealma said, squatting beside the stupid tourist. “I have some equipment. Let me see