Chapter 6

“Genny!” Kaylee screamed.

Mal grabbed the girl under the shoulders and pulled out of the chair, away from the flames. Tucking her against his body, he turned and crouched, forming a protective cave around her. Melted bits of paneling sprayed through the air, grating across his back, slicing through his shirt. The first second extended an eternity, and the next second, Inara doused the flames with the fire extinguisher which sprinkled a cool mist against Mal’s bleeding skin. He was keenly aware of Genny, breathing heavily against his chest, not daring to move until he moved first.

Mal glanced up, untucking enough to set Genny on the ground.

“Genny?” Kaylee said again, rushing to them. Mal allowed them a brief moment.

“Oww,” Genny said, annoyance coating the complaint more than pain. Her hands and face were red, but nothing life threatening.

“Kaylee, fix the ship,” Mal ordered.

“Simon, we need a Genny kit on the bridge. Minor burns,” Inara called over the comm. Being allergic to needles, Genny had her own special med kits, but most were on the lower deck.

Inara rushed to Mal next, fussing over the cuts on his back. He shrugged her off, but she stood firm, pulling the larger splinters. Mal inhaled sharply as his vision went spotted, feeling like he’d been lashed. He focused on Genny, because it hurt too much to fight with Inara. Genny trembled from the shock and adrenaline rush, and still clutched the new computer board in her hand.

“I’m okay,” she insisted, trying to sit up. “Let’s try it in the second console.”

“No,” Mal said softly, ghosting his hand over the burns on her face. She closed her eyes and pulled back. “You sit tight. Wait for help.”

Mal took the board from her and handed it to Inara, hoping she knew more of what needed to be done. Inara wiped her bloody hands on his sleeve and stood.

“We still have power,” Mal said, surveying the bridge, confused. Kaylee had pulled half her cables out and was checking the power source frantically.

“The engine output is completely stable,” she reported. “That surge was external.”

External? They were under attack!

Again.

-----

The lights flickered through the entire lower deck, but the emergency back-ups kicked in. Simon was in the middle of mixing a fresh batch of meds for Michael. The way River had described it to him, there were always waves of energy through the psychic plane. Sometimes a surge of energy would wash over her like a tsunami, and she couldn’t find her physical self any more. Those were the times when her heart rate would spike for no reason, her lungs would spasm, and her kidneys would shut down. Essentially, her body forgot how to work. He’d only seen it a few times before in River, and had developed this treatment in response. He never suspected Michael would be susceptible. It meant that this wasn’t related to what the Alliance did with her brain. This was something every reader was at risk for – which probably explained why so few were alive.

Quickly, he secured the batch of medicine, so he could come back to his work when power was restored. The emergency back-up lights flickered. Michael’s heart-rate quickened, and Simon closed his eyes. He hadn’t finished prepping any of the doses. Praying fervently, he listened to the steady pulse of the monitor. Michael’s heart-rate was higher than it should be, but not spiking out of control like before.

Simon nearly breathed a sigh of relief, but then the power surged and the monitor next to Michael sparked and smoked. Rushing over, he disconnected the machine and shoved it across the room, away from Michael. It rolled, hit the wall, and sparked again. Could he use a fire extinguisher on that thing without damaging it beyond repair? The question was moot, since all the fire extinguishers had been depleted earlier, putting out wall fires. He could clear out the sensitive equipment and set the overhead fire suppression.

Another machine sparked and Simon swerved desperately, seeking the source. He needed to get Michael out of there! Running to the wall, he hit the comm, but before he could call for help, Inara’s voice came through.

“Simon, we need a Genny kit on the bridge. Minor burns.”

Simon groaned fearfully for his little girl. Running to the hall, he hollered up the stairs for his son, praying the boy was still sleeping in the galley. Something else was sparking.

Grabbing the trash bin, Simon ripped out the lining and tossed the contents aside. Was there time –

Another light zapped.

Simon yanked open the cabinet and shoveled all the meds into the empty bin. He went quickly but methodically around the Infirmary, gathering anything that would be ruined by the chemical sprinklers, leaving the Genny-kit on the counter.

“Daddy, I’m here” Jamie called, waiting patiently by the door, flinching every time something sparked. Simon sighed a silent thank you and handed over the bin full of medical supplies.

“Take this, set it in the hall, tie it down to something,” Simon ordered. Then he ran to Michael’s side and started unstrapping all the harnesses holding the boy in place. Michael’s eyes opened, half-focused, then closed again. His head lolled, and then he went through the sequence again. How could Simon lift the boy? Michael was so broken!

Wiping clammy palms on his pants, Simon turned desperately, and grabbed the Genny kit.

“Jamie!” Simon opened the kit, pulled out a needleless injector, and set the device with the drug his daughter needed.

“Do you remember how to use this?” he asked Jamie.

Jamie inhaled fearfully. “No.”

Simon nodded. It was a long shot anyway. “Genny knows,” he said gently. “She’ll help.”

“Daddy, why is this happening?” Jamie asked, his voice trembling.

Simon handed over the injector, then gave Jamie the rest of the blue kit just in case. He looked back to Michael.

“Ask me again later,” Simon said, then pushed Jamie out of the room.

The monitor sparked again, igniting the blankets folded on the side bed and Simon cursed, noticing the portable oxygen tank left there from earlier. He looked from Michael to the spreading flame. If he didn’t move the tank, the whole lower deck would be blown to smitherines! Gritting his teeth, Simon took off his vest and swung frantically, using it to beat a path through the flames. The tank was on wheels, and he shoved it desperately toward the door, groaning in frustration as it snagged on debris and he tripped over it.

The fire leapt onto Simon, burning through the right leg of his pants, and he screamed in pain. Rolling frantically, he tried to put out the flame, but there was no clear space around him and he rolled over broken glass. Biting his lip, he hefted the oxygen tank and shoved it out the door. His leg buckled as he tried to walk and his whole body started to shake. Gasping through the pain, he scooped Michael gently in his arms, ran to the hall, and set the boy on the couch. The fire spread to the trash left on the floor of the Infirmary. Simon sealed the door to cut off the airflow in the room and pressed the button to activate fire suppression.

Nothing happened.

Then the power died, and the entire lower deck went black, except for the bitter glow through the glass as his Infirmary was engulfed in flame.

-----

“Kaylee, get the vid operational,” Mal ordered, strapping on his gun belt, accepting the radio Inara handed to him as he strode in the hall. Inara followed him down the stairs, detouring into their quarters just long enough to find her own gun and check the load. Little Jamie dashed past, blue kit in hand, and Mal swallowed any questions as to Simon’s motives. He glanced behind where Genny was already on her feet, shaking like a leaf, helping her mother get the second console up and running. Cole looked on curiously from the galley, knowing well enough to stay out of everyone’s way.

“Ghost ships again?” Sky goaded accusingly, climbing out of her bunk, holding Emily in one hand and an M4 in the other. She had metal strapped so many places, it was a wonder she could walk. Emily had a bright green, plastic toy gun, which Mal sharply disapproved of, on the principle that guns should not be construed as toys, especially in an environment where they were so accessible. Mal wasn’t gonna tell Sky how to raise her own kid, though. Sky was zhen de shi scary, even without guns.

“Safety, baby,” Sky chided sharply as Emily laid her head and the toy tiredly on Sky’s shoulder. Emily turned the toy gun in her hand so the muzzle was pointed safely at the floor. She’d learned to treat anything gun-shaped like it was loaded.

“Jamie!” Sky hollered, glancing down the hall toward the galley.

“Gorram, I’m a twin, not a triplet!” Jamie hollered, and Sky looked in confusion toward the bridge. Jamie sprinted into the hall, gave an exasperated head-shake, took Emily, and ran back to the bridge. Sky looked to Mal.

“Someone’s come knockin’,” Mal acknowledged, surveying his resources, wishing like hell that Jayne and Zoë were here with them.

“Sky, take the back. Inara, you’re my eyes up front. Cole, with me.”

The order given, Mal started moving again. No one questioned him calling Cole to the front line, but he’d get an earful from Inara later, he was sure.

Cole hurried to keep up with him as he hustled to the hatch that opened topside. It was the best place to look out and get a sense of things, until Kaylee got that vid working. It was faster lifting Cole out than hauling himself through that hatch, and plus he’d wrenched his shoulder yanking Genny away from the fire.

“What’s the job?” Cole asked, cradling his broken arm as he ran. Simon had strapped Cole’s arm pretty firmly to his torso, so his hand rested over his heart and he couldn’t do more than wiggle his fingers. Mal wondered if it was hurting him again, but the boy knew better than to complain at a time like this. He’d balance fine on Mal’s shoulders with just the one arm.

“I need to borrow your eyes.” On that thought, Mal detoured by the supply locker and grabbed some night-vision goggles.

“Can the rest of me come too?”

Mal looked at his son and they shared an adventurous smile. “Comedian, eh?”

“You said I couldn’t be a Shepherd,” Cole teased. “I’m weighing my options.”

Mal kept walking, ignoring the pin-prickly sting of the burns and cuts on his back. He wondered if it was painful to look at and if that was why Cole was keeping pace instead of lagging a step behind. Mal didn’t remember telling Cole that he couldn’t be a shepherd, but it sounded like something he’d say offhand. However his boy turned out, Mal was first in line to take the blame. He hadn’t seen anything he wasn’t proud of yet. Good humor in the face of danger – definitely his father’s son.

“If you come up with an act, your Mama and I’ll take you on tour.”

“Really?”

“No.”

Cole laughed.

When they got to the hatch, Mal hesitated. He wasn’t ready for this – wasn’t ready to send his son into this. He leaned down until he was eye-level with Cole.

“This is just like a game,” Mal explained. “Look fast. You find the danger - what is it and how close is it. Are you ready?”

Cole nodded, his confidence sourced entirely from Mal’s confidence in him. Mal handed him the night-vision goggles and turned to open the hatch.

“Baba,” Cole whispered, tapping Mal’s shoulders with the goggles. Mal looked down, then froze when he heard a pounding on the hull overhead. How close was right here!

-----

Inara crossed the bridge, then went down the stairs in front of the con to the nose of the ship, and pressed her face against the window, trying to see out. She could see the tracking lights on at least two vehicles, parked just to port.

“You did it, Genny. You did it!” she heard Jamie exclaim and Inara looked up toward the bridge.

“We have vid!” Genny confirmed.

Then she heard Kaylee’s horrified voice saying, “Oh my God.”

Inara ran upstairs and pressed in between the others to see the screen. The first vehicle was just that – a transport. The second one was significantly larger and towed the energy weapon that had no doubt caused the power surge. She caught the movement of someone walking outside. How many?! No time to count.

Scrambling to find her radio, she broadcast urgently, “Mal, Sky, seal the ship!”

“Now you tell me!” Sky retorted, but Mal did not answer. She didn’t expect him to.

“There’s more coming!” Jamie cried, pointing to the monitor again. Four more vehicles, just veering away from town, were coming for Serenity. They had an hour at best.

“Kaylee, can we run?” Inara asked.

“Can’t break atmo,” Kaylee said, her voice calm despite the frantic movements of her fingers. “Probably can’t even break the sound barrier.”

“Just give me something,” Inara said. “All we have to do is run faster than them.”

“Looks like they just have ground vehicles, Mom,” Genny volunteered helpfully.

Kaylee circled the bridge once more, then snatched up her scattered tools. “In the future, I’d appreciate written notice at least one week prior to gorram surprise attacks!”

“Just keep us from exploding,” Inara called after her as Kaylee dashed toward the engine room.

Inara turned back to the mess of the bridge. The only working console was at the Captain’s chair, and she always found it disorienting to drive from that side of the cockpit. Taking a deep breath, she sat in the chair, and started testing what systems were actually available for her to use.

“Okay, kids, strap in.”

Jamie groaned wearily. “Again.”

-----

The fire spread through the Infirmary, flames licking up every burnable surface, bursting suddenly as they spread to the cabinet storing the gauze and alcohol. He’d gotten the portable oxygen tank out, but he had no idea if Serenity was still circulating fresh air to the room, or if those systems had died along with the fire suppression. He considered moving again, but Michael was frail as it was and there was only darkness beyond what the fire illuminated.

The quiet coolness out here made him shiver and sweat, and the air filled with the stench of his own scorched flesh. He’d severely burned his leg and his vision was too blurry to find where Jamie had put the trash can full of supplies, let alone find the drugs he needed. He couldn’t see, he couldn’t call for help, and every moment, it became harder to breathe. Weariness weighed on his bones, and consciousness came and went as it pleased.

He heard shouts from upstairs, and then a tentative light cut through the hall, from the cargo bay. Squinting through the shadows, he tried to determine the nature of the intruder – he knew something was wrong because no one called his name. Simon’s breath quickened, worried that he’d sent his son into danger, crossing the ship alone.

Adrenaline surged through his body as the intruder approached. Simon felt through the darkness for a weapon and sliced his hand on something sharp – a scrap of metal left behind from one of Kaylee’s quick fixes to the lower deck. Adjusting the sharp edge between his fingers, Simon crouched in the flickering shadows, prepared to fight.

-----

Mal placed Cole behind him as they backed away from the hatch.

“A little help down here,” Sky said over the radio. Mal tensed, knowing by the low hush in her voice that the cargo bay had been breached. He pulled the radio off his belt.

“Inara, there’s a plan to fly, right?”

“Get out and push,” she answered smartly.

“Five minutes, Cap,” Kaylee cut in, her voice twittery, but calm.

Mal nodded, and turned, placing one hand on Cole’s shoulder. He needed to send his son somewhere safe while he went to the cargo bay to back Sky. Suddenly, the hatch overhead crumbled and an intruder dropped though the ceiling. Mal pushed Cole behind the bulkhead, out of sight. The intruder was dressed like a laborer, with worn dusty clothes, and a support belt saying he meant to do heavy lifting. He was young, short, not more than 110 pounds soaking wet, and clearly not expecting Mal to charge him the way he did.

With a yelp, the intruder took off running, fast like an Olympian. The man slowed as he rounded the bend, fumbling for a weapon, and the distraction cost him. Mal just barely caught up in time to knock the weapon away, sending a wild energy discharge, punching a hole in the wall. Mal rolled quickly, bowling over his opponent. Gaining the upper hand, Mal swung back for a knock-out blow, but the intruder parried deftly, and twisted free using some kind of martial arts move. Mal landed hard on his back, and his vision went red with the protests of lashed skin. From the corner of his eye, he could see Cole charging toward them.

“Not with the goggles!” Mal cried out as Cole swung hard, knocking the guy cold.

“I know,” Cole said breathlessly, holding up a wrench he’d found. “The goggles costs too gorram much.”

Taking a moment to catch his breath, Mal chuckled approvingly and took the wrench from Cole. Cole was trembling with the rush of adrenaline, having never been in a fight with anyone other than Genny before. Gaining his feet quickly, Mal started toward the cargo bay, motioning Cole to follow, and pressed the radio to his lips.

“’Nara, we have an unsecured hole up top, so let’s not break atmo.”

“It was never an option, dear.”

The endearment was her way of saying stay calm, keep your head clear, and kick some ass. Mal loved his wife.

“Cole, your gun is downstairs?” he asked.

Cole nodded, his eyes wide with the implications.

“You get it, and you go to the Infirmary.”

“Baba –” Cole interrupted, then choked. His arm was broken and he couldn’t shoot left-handed, but didn’t want to say.

“Find Simon,” Mal said calmly. “He’ll take the gun. No matter what, you stay there and protect your brother.”

Cole swallowed any protest, but his eyes were screaming fearfully, so Mal took his hand as they walked. He was still a boy. He wasn’t ready for this.

When they got to the cargo bay it was completely black, aside from the faint glow from the hall they’d just emerged from. Mal pulled Cole sideways against the wall and pressed his finger to his lips, hoping no one had noticed their silhouettes. He wanted surprise on his side.

Mal could distinguish at least three voices, arguing over the lack of light in the room. They seemed disorganized; like the first, they weren’t expecting company here. Still, the intruder on the upper deck had been armed with some Alliance-special energy weapon, so Mal wasn’t taking any chances. Quietly, he scooted sideways, hoping the flashlights were still on the shelf and hadn’t been displaced or commandeered in the day’s series of crises. He found two and handed one to Cole.

“There’s five of them,” Cole whispered. Mal squinted into the darkness, then realized Cole was using the night-vision goggles. Mal tapped his shoulder and held out his hand. With a guiding hand on Cole’s shoulder, he kept the boy behind him and they slowly made their way downstairs.

Using the goggles, Mal watched the movements of the enemy. Of five men, three had weapons, but none were drawn. One stood with his arms crossed, two others fiddled with some three-foot tall apparatus, while the two more dominated the argument. Mal noticed Sky, crouched near the grouping, her ear turned toward the intruders.

They got to the bottom of the stairs and Cole took off toward the Infirmary. For a moment, Sky turned sharply toward Mal, looking almost directly at him. She’d heard the shoes scuffling. That woman was truly impossible to sneak up on! He couldn’t read her expression, but he figured she recognized him as friend, not foe, because she held up a hand and started moving. She stood slowly, stealthily inching toward the quiet man with his arms crossed. Then she jumped him and knocked him cold before he could make a sound.

Mal charged the next, and that one screamed, alerting the other three. Sky kicked the weapon out of the one’s hand, and the other two dropped their defunct lantern to the floor, begging for mercy, not knowing what was going on. Flipping on his flashlight, Mal shone it directly in their eyes. The first held up his hands, crying out in surrender. His friend swatted him irritably, but held up his hands as well when he saw Sky training the M4 on him.

-----

Simon pulled the cuff of his sleeve over his hand, in part to staunch the blood, in part to get a better hold on the metal scrap he was using for a weapon. The intruder slowed as he rounded the bend, swearing at the sight of the smoldering Infirmary. Surely, he’d notice Michael lying on the couch. Surely he’d hear Simon gasping for breath, stumbling through the darkness.

“Doc?”

Simon cringed as he heard Cole’s hushed whisper in the hall, accompanied by the slow bobbing glow of a new flashlight. Cole had noticed the strange flickering of light in the Infirmary and started running. With a string of curses, the intruder turned toward the sound, shining his beam directly at Cole and Cole froze like a deer in the headlights. Slowly, with quivering hands, the boy raised a gun and pointed it toward the light.

“Who are you?” Cole demanded, his voice trembling, his finger tightening on the trigger. In the flickering light from the Infirmary, Simon saw the man’s hand close on a weapon tucked into his waistband, at the small of his back.

“Run, Cole!” Simon shouted, and the man swung both his light and weapon toward Simon. Simon launched out of his hiding place, swinging across his body, bringing the metal scrap in full force, connecting with the intruder’s jugular.

The man fell to his knees, eyes wide with shock, then dropped face down on the ground. Cole closed his eyes, feet glued to the floor as blood spattered on his clothes and face and then pooled around his feet. Simon stood breathlessly over the body, dropping the scrap of metal, wondering if his knees might buckle, but there was so much adrenaline pumping through his system, he felt he was floating at the same time.

“Cole,” Simon said softly, coming between the boy and the corpse, using his sleeve to wipe the blood away from Cole’s face. He knew Cole had never seen anyone killed up close before, and a slashed throat was not the cleanest of deaths to witness.

Cole’s face was ghostly white, even with the orange hue from the flames. He pushed Simon away, walked resolutely to the couch, and sat in the middle, near Michael’s hip. Michael whimpered in pain – the sedative was wearing off. Cole looked at his brother, adjusted the brace on his arm, then stared fervently at the gun in his lap, shoulders slumped with weariness and resignation.

Simon limped toward the two boys, but the pain in his leg escalated to the point of overwhelming as the adrenaline rush faded. He felt the soft rock of the ship as Serenity took off, and nearly toppled over. Carefully, he laid himself on the floor, hoping the black spots would dissipate on their own, and he waited for help to arrive.

-----

Chapter 7