The Star Thief (Star Thief Chronicles #1)(3)
Author: Jamie Grey

They’d called for reinforcements.

Beside her, the boy gasped, and Renna slowed her pace a little, remembering he’d been locked up for gods knew how long. She scanned each crate, each row of goods as they ran, looking for something to help them escape.

“Over here!” A man’s voice echoed through the warehouse. “The boy’s gone!”

Her heart skipped. Dammit. They were faster than she’d thought. Behind them, footsteps pounded against the concrete as the guards pursued. Myka gasped for breath beside her, his breath ragged and harsh. They had to find someplace to hide. And fast.

She frantically searched the schematics of the warehouse. There!

A maintenance bay was better than nothing. They could hide there until she figured out another route. Going on the offensive wasn’t even an option. Her laser pistol would run out of charge long before she was done fighting her way out of here.

If she made it.

Stop that, Carrizal. There was always a way out; she just had to find it.

They slammed through the maintenance door, and she sealed it shut behind them with her nanospanner. That should keep the Cordoza thugs busy for a little while.

Renna quickly scanned the space, barely paying attention to the kid doubled over and gasping for breath. The maintenance bay was a rectangular box with cement walls and a solid steel garage door. A workbench lined one wall, the tools spread out with surgical precision. She counted three nanospanners like her own, a laser torch, a sonic screwdriver, and a set of electrowrenches of varying sizes.

And then there was the shiny Radiowing hovering in the middle of the garage. The chrome body and supple leather seat were pristine. By gods, it was gorgeous. She hadn’t seen one in such good shape since she was a kid, and this was obviously one of the first gens. It looked a bit like the old motorcycles they’d had back in the twenty-first century, but instead of wheels, airlift wings jutted from the sides of the machine.

The perfect escape.

Renna grinned at Myka. “Ever ride one of those before?”

He shook his head.

“You’re about to.” She moved to the keypad on the garage door and began to hack it. Her fingers flew over the controls, trying to reset it to spec. It beeped, and the pad turned red. She tried again, a different hack this time. Nothing. Renna growled. She did not have time for this. A bead of sweat trickled down her forehead, and she swiped it away before trying a third time. This was unacceptable. She could hack locks like this in her sleep.

“Hey, lady?” The boy cleared his throat, and Renna spun around. He jerked his head toward the metal door. “I think they’re here.”

“Status check,” she ordered. Her implant returned three heat signatures outside.

There was a hiss from behind the door as a torch kicked on. Blue flame licked through the metal, and her heart fell to her toes. They were going to cut their way in.

“Damn.” She tried the keypad once more, but she knew it wouldn’t do any good. She was going to have to do this the old-fashioned way.

“Get on the bike, Myka.” Renna flipped open her holster as the torch cut through the door in a glowing line.

She swung her leg over the seat of the bike. Now if she could only remember how to start these things. They’d used something archaic like a trigger or key or…there! She spotted the switch near the base of the handles. She flipped it on, but nothing happened.

Myka glanced between her and the door but didn’t move. “They’re starting the second line,” he said. Instead of getting on the bike like she’d ordered, he stood solidly, shoulders square and arms tensed at his side. Like he’d fight them all himself before getting back in that cage.

She might actually like this kid.

Renna tapped her finger on the chrome body. When she was a kid, Big George had owned one of the first Radiowing models in the city. He’d paid her to look after it one afternoon when he’d come to collect his earnings from the prostitutes in the tenements. She’d played lovingly with all the gears and switches while he was gone and threatened the other children who’d come around with her stolen blaster. Most of them knew better than to mess with her anyway.

“Right. Got it!” She placed her feet carefully on each wing and pressed her toes down. The machine rumbled deep in its belly. She pressed harder, throwing her weight into it and turning the grip on the handle. It roared to life, the vibrations tingling the insides of Renna’s thighs. “Get on, Myka; we’re getting out of here.”

“Good. They’re almost through.” He swung a skinny leg over the seat behind her and grabbed her waist with a surprisingly strong grip.

Renna glanced behind them. The boy was right. She pulled her pistol from the holster and aimed at the keypad on the bay door. The explosion thundered through the space, the sound an almost-visible thing. Slowly, the mech bay door began to rise. Renna gunned the Wing’s engine, ready to kick off as soon as there was room.

“Miss!”

She turned just as one of the guards kicked at the metal insert. But the bay door was still only wide enough for a child to sneak through.

“Screw this,” she said, pointing her gun at the men. She fired off two shots, one hitting the first man in the arm, the other striking the man behind him. They both went down, immediately replaced by two more. And behind them, another dozen men waited in the wings. Her arm trembled. She’d never be able to stop them.

Instead, she directed her fire at the bay door. Her laser gun screamed as the beam passed through the door and weakened the metal. It would have to be enough.

Gunning the Radiowing, Renna leaned forward. “Hang on!”

The machine jerked and started forward, tipping and sliding drunkenly. She fought with the controls to right it. Then with a kick of her foot, the machine shot forward, directly into the bay door.

It crumpled with a screech. Renna ducked behind the windshield, letting the Wing bear the brunt of the damage. Flakes of shiny black paint sprayed over her as the fresh tint job disintegrated on impact. The bug screen shattered, glass flying in every direction. But the Wing was out of the bay and off the ground, soaring above the dozen men who ran screaming into the warehouse yard below.

It tried to roll beneath her as it climbed, and Renna tensed her muscles. They were still climbing too slowly for her to control it. Arms burning with the effort, Renna wrenched the Wing back in line. Below them, blasters shot at them from every direction. Her feet jammed into the accelerator, her hands twisting the handles to weave back and forth. Just needed to make it out of the compound. Once they were free, she could be back at her safe house in minutes.