Mitzi rolled and picked herself up just in time to see that Skye had followed her—and was falling off the edge of the walkway. Mitzi threw out a hand and grabbed Skye’s arm, pulling her forward, away from the edge of their precarious lifeboat. They were just in time to get out of the way; Mir and Eoin had come down together in a reckless tumble of limbs, and they slammed into the ground with a sickening crunch.

Hoping they weren’t hurt, Mitzi grabbed their suits, hauling them up. “Towards the centre! Move!”

Then they were running, leaping over the gaps between the chunks of concrete, darting and weaving to avoid the enraged black tendrils that were slipping through the cracks, and racing towards Adam and Ellen. The concrete was rising alarmingly quickly, and the force of the momentum made it difficult to move, even with the suits. Mitzi reached the final two members of her team just as the concrete blocks passed the jagged edges of the roof they had once belonged to. She gazed up and was shocked to see the sky, clear and bright, after so long underground. A black spot hovered not far above them, and Mitzi focussed on it, praying it was close enough. “Nic, we’re gonna need that pickup now.”

CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

They were shooting upwards so harshly that Mitzi nearly lost her footing. She stretched out her arm to Eoin, yelling, “Hold hands! Make a chain, and don’t let go!”

The concrete was crumbling under their feet as the Cymic rushed them up, pushing them towards the sky, trying to purge itself of the concrete lid, just as Mitzi had hoped it would. She focussed on the ship above them. The doors had been opened, and a rope ladder swung down.

The pressure was so severe that it was a struggle to stay upright. Eoin held her hand tightly enough for Mitzi to feel the pressure through the glove.

Then the momentum stopped, and Mitzi felt the horrible sensation of weightlessness. The Cymics had thrown their crumbling cover free. Mitzi spared a glance downwards, but the surface of the planet was so far away that the buildings looked like children’s toys.

Nic had cut the ship’s engines, letting it drop like a rock in a desperate attempt to meet them. The ladder swished close to Mitzi, and she grabbed for it, missed, grabbed again, and hooked her free arm through the lowest rung.

“Up, Nic!” she yelled, and the ship’s engines came back on. Suddenly, their plunge was broken as the rope went taut in the crook of Mitzi’s arms. Metal groaned, the ship keeled, and white-hot pain rushed through Mitzi’s chest as the fractured ribs were strained.

She clung on, eyes squinted closed as blackness swam at the edges of her vision. Don’t let go. Don’t let go… She fought to keep conscious, aware of the weight of Eoin’s hand in hers. Then the ship steadied, hovering, and Mitzi finally dared to open her eyes.