Into the Fire (The Mieshka Files, Book One) Read Online Free PDF

her hair. She glanced to the other reflections, noticing a similar orange blob on Aiden’s head.
    “So are you.”
    The elevator kept rumbling down. She examined the control panel. It only had three buttons: up, down, and panic. She resisted an urge to press the latter.
    Just how far were they going, anyway? They’d already been—
    Ding!
    The door stumbled back, spilling light across a square of smooth concrete. Beyond the square it was pitch-black.
    They filed out, Mieshka last. Aiden slipped off to the left, Jo walked straight into the dark. The elevator lifted slightly as Buck stepped off.
    Mieshka toed the edge of the light square. A dry cold pressed in on her, and she hunched over, jamming her hands into her hoodie’s pouch.
    The doors closed behind her, shutting out the light like blackout curtains. She heard a hydraulic hiss just after it closed. Then, nothing.
    She couldn’t see anything. She held her breath, heard the scuff of a boot against concrete. By the way the darkness swallowed it, she felt she was in a large place.
    She was right.
    With a thunk , a row of lights switched on high above her head. As she squinted in the sudden light, another row switched on, and a third row after that. The pattern continued until the whole room was lit.
    Room was an understatement. The place was a hangar, its high ceiling secured by a complex pattern of metal framing. The walls were a darker mix of concrete than the floor, with bare pipes and naked wires snaking across them. The lights, suspended from the ceiling’s framework, were bright and industrial. They burned with a baseline hum.
    In the middle was the ship. It had a triangular shape, with its head tapered to a sharp point and fixed wings swooping out from the middle to the back. It was black, and seemed to drink the light in. It reflected the room through a dim, oily sheen.
    It was smaller than she’d expected. Maybe the size of three cars, end-to-end.
    Aiden returned from the light switch, rubbing his hands.
    “Don’t worry, she doesn’t bite.”
    Mieshka took the hint, following him to the ship’s side. Only once did she glance back at the now closed elevator.
    Closer, she noticed there were no joints or seams in the metal. It appeared to have been made of one continuous piece. Her reflection distorted in its side like a fun-house mirror.
    Aiden patted it gently before he splayed his fingers as he’d done in the memorial. This time, Mieshka felt something pulse in the air before the orange light sliced open a door. The door hissed back just as the door to the elevator upstairs had. She was starting to see some correlations.
    “Ladies first.”
    She peered inside. Lights glowed to life from beneath the floor’s grating, under-lighting a cramped space with smooth black surfaces and a chrome-like trim. As she watched, the controls began to glow with a familiar orange light.
    She found a couple of handles on the inside of the door and hauled herself up the three-foot step. Her sneakers clunked onto the grating, and her head automatically ducked. Up front, a console was arranged in a semicircle, alight with many orange symbols. The tops of two chairs blocked out part of the console’s light. Pilot and co-pilot, she assumed. A bright white light flicked over the pilot’s seat.
    She crowded forward as Aiden climbed in after her.
    “Have a seat,” he said, gesturing to the center chair. He squeezed by to tap a few keys on the front console. Three screens flicked on: the center displayed a video feed of Buck and Jo loitering around the hangar, their weapons highlighted and magnified onto the left-most screen; the right-most screen was completely filled with text.
    A soft hiss distracted her. She looked back in time to see the door close, the edges glowing briefly orange as it cut off the outside light.
    Great.
    She slid around the chair, leaning heavily on the armrests as she sank into it. The light felt warm.
    Right. Scanning. What was that like? She thought