Renegade Runner Nicole Conway (christmas read aloud txt) 📖

talking. “I wouldn’t worry too much. Her species is considered borderline intelligent, so they get a little more respect out here than people like us. In all likelihood, she’s someone’s secretary or errand-runner now. Not a free life, but a better one than most.”

I forced a smile back at him. I wanted to believe that. I needed to. But I couldn’t shake that sinking feeling whenever I pictured her face—that look of terror and total hopelessness in her eyes as she talked about being sent to work in the mines.

She deserved better than that.

“So how’s the head?” I had to change the subject. So far, Phox seemed pretty much back to his usual, sarcastic self. Then again, maybe he was just doing a good job of hiding if he was still in any pain.

“Sore. But nothing I can’t stand.” He eased back in his seat, making a few final adjustments before letting out a deep, unsteady breath. His chin dipped a bit, watching as the holographs flickered to life before him to present the all-too-familiar topographic map of Thermax.

I leaned in to get a better look. Not that I was any kind of expert when it came to alien meteorology or weather of any kind, but it seemed like we were still stuck right smack in the middle of that massive storm. It’d barely moved at all. Dammit.

My heart sank. How long were we going to be stuck here? What if we ran out of water? Or food? Or air, for crying out loud?

“Want the good news or the bad news?” Phox murmured as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

“Bad,” I replied. Best to get it over with quick.

“It’s gonna get worse out there before it gets better. We could be trapped for a while. I’d bet good money the public’s freaking out right now. We’ve only got five days to finish the race before we’re disqualified and the best racers the Renegade Run has ever seen—Faulbender’s Furies—are stuck here right along with us. The spec-cams can’t even get in to see what’s going on, so everyone is at a standstill.” He cast me a meaningful glance. “That means when the storm does lift enough that we can get underway again, Sienne is going to have a big, hard reason to take us out fast and get to that finish line as soon as possible.”

“O-Oh.”

“It gets better,” he continued. “Her ship is parked about two hundred yards away from us right this second. Now, she can’t actually get to us. Storms this size toss boulders around like its nothing. Not to mention, one lucky lightning strike would turn you into a heap of smoking ash like that.” He snapped his fingers with a dark, ironic smile playing over his features. “It’d be beyond stupid to leave the ship. So she’s not going anywhere.”

I could sense a “but” coming.

“But when she does come for us, we aren’t going to last long. I’ll have to purge the engines before we can get underway again to get the grit out of the thrusters. That’s going to take at least five minutes. The rifle’s gone, so we only have one set of weapons. That’s one short-range plasma pistol for each of us to use against Sienne and her partner for five minutes. Not good.”

Sinking down lower in my seat, I wondered when the good news might start because this was beginning to get seriously depressing. “Soooo … basically, we’re screwed?”

Phox shrugged slightly. “Maybe. Maybe not. Depends on if you’re up for one of my insane plans for a change.” He swiveled the map, zooming in closer to where our ship was marked next to a slowly approaching break in the middle of the storm. My heartbeat skipped. It looked just like the eye of a hurricane. “When the storm’s epicenter passes by us, we might be able to leave the ship. It won’t last long, and it’s only skimming us, so I’d say thirty minutes, tops. And even then, it’ll be risky as hell. The winds will die down some, enough we might be able to see a short distance and even maneuver the ship without risking more damage to the engines, but the lightning strikes are still an issue.”

I panned my gaze from the map to his face, studying the hard lines of his sharp features as he scrunched his mouth and went on rubbing at his jaw and chin. “Leave the ship and do what? There’s nowhere to go, right?”

“Wrong.” He zoomed in closer, pointing to a small wrinkle in the topography off to the right of our ship, right against the canyon wall. “This is a cave entrance. There’s a network of tunnels and caves all through this area, leftovers from reefs when this was ocean. They go on for hundreds of miles. This one might be big enough for us to squeeze the ship through. Maybe. I’ll have to check it out in person; the storm’s still messing with the instruments, so I can’t get a precise readout.”

Oh, no. I could see where this was going. “You want to clear the engines and try to drive through the caverns instead? Can we … actually do that?”

Phox dropped his hands into his lap with another heavy sigh. “Potentially. There’s always the risk of getting stuck, lost, or crushed by a cave-in. But when the storm’s center passes over, we should have just enough time to get the ship prepped, clear the engines, and make a dash for it. The only catch is we’ll have to wait until the very last second to do it; otherwise, we run the risk of Sienne trying to follow. If we do it right, then I think by the time the storm passes and she sees we aren’t there, she won’t piss around here looking for us—she’ll head straight for the finish line and we’ll be in the clear. You know, providing we find a way back out of the tunnels.”

Yikes. He was right. His plan sounded