Beacon 23: Part 3: Bounty (Kindle Single) by Hugh Howey Read Free Book Online

unwhisperable, or they’ll lock you away. I key open the airlock to O’Shea’s ship. “Come and get me!” I shout. The remains of the warthen’s owner are ten paces away. I stumble through the airlock, toward the ship, hoping to be eaten. The animal turns the corner, and I brace for a world of searing pain, of claw and tooth, of white-hot mercy, but I just feel it brush against me. I open my eyes, didn’t realize I’d closed them, and turn to see a tail whisk around the corner. I stumble back into the module, confused. The warthen has a food pack in its mouth. It goes to my walk suit, which is back to a heap on the floor, turns twice in a circle on it, and lies down, chewing on the pack, protein paste going everywhere.
    All of this is sensed at a distance. I’m too focused on my dark secret. My new conviction. I hobble toward the other airlock, where Scarlett disappeared. I key open the outer door, step inside the lock, and shut the door behind me. In the tight confines, I think I can smell her. She just passed through here. Was alive moments ago. Now is dead and gone. Her hope has been wiped from the universe.
    I wanted to tell her my dark secret. I was so close. More time together, and I would’ve confessed. I would’ve told her how I come here every night before I go to sleep, how I stand in one of these airlocks, how I close the door behind me, and how I think about the vacuum of space on the other side.
    Every night, I do this.
    Without fail.
    There’s an emergency override code that’ll open this door even if there’s no atmo on the other side. It’s for going on space walks. We’re supposed to do one every day. I never have. I only come in here with my suit off. To breathe my last. To end the nightmare.
    Leaning against the wall, I enter the first three digits of the override code.
    My finger hovers over the fourth.
    I’ve done this every day I’ve been here. Every single day. But this time I want it. I can’t go on.
    Three numbers sit on the little screen, waiting.
    I touch the fourth.
    I touch it, but I can’t press it.
    I never can.
    I sag to the ground, sobbing and broken, hugging my knees.
    Bad things come in threes—but then they stop.
    And start all over again.