As the cart rolled to a slow stop, Amalia slid off of the cool metal, stepping slowly towards the object in the middle of the room. She reached up, running her hands across the smooth surface, catching a glimpse of her reflection in the shiny exterior plating. She breathed a sigh of pure awe.
"Who puts a spaceship..."
"A hundred feet underground?" Noa finished, placing his hand beside hers. "Where did they get this?"
"Who's 'they'?" Chris quipped from the cavern's entrance.
"The American government, apparently,” Amalia retorted hotly.
Chris nodded. "Fair enough."
Dillon came up to Amalia and Noa, putting his hand on the cool exterior of the ship as well. "Let's see if we can get in."
"Are you crazy?" Chris exclaimed. "We can't just break into a spaceship owned by the government, especially not on restricted government property!"
Amalia lowered her hands, placing one on her forehead as she turned and leaned against the spaceship. "Chris, I'm going to let you think about what you just said."
Chris paused and began mumbling to himself. "We can't just break into a spaceship owned by the... Oh yeah, I see what you're saying. Let's get the heck into the thing!"
Amalia began banging her fist against the ship. When she pulled her fist away, a small indent was left in the metal.
"Doesn't seem too thick. Maybe we could cut into it?"
"Or," Mia interjected, her voice coming from somewhere above the group, "you could walk around the ship and realize the door was open the whole time."
Everyone jerked and snapped their attention upwards. Mia was hanging halfway out of one of the spaceships windows, a self-satisfied smirk settled on her lips. "Come on guys. They have beds in this thing!"
A cheer rose up from below, and the six teens rushed around to the back of the ship, where Mia was waiting for them. "You guys are hilarious," she laughed, slipping her hand into Christopher's. He pulled her closer and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Mia blushed.
Amalia stood in the mouth of the ship, hands on her hips, a confused expression contorting her features.
Noa noticed her absence and trotted back to her side. "What's up?"
"I hear something," she responded.
"Something other than Mia and Chris making out in the galley? Honestly, I have never heard anything more disgusting."
Amalia smacked him. "No, you moron. It's more like running water."
Noa shrugged. "Underground milk river, so what?"
"The heck... No, listen!"
Noa did, cupping his hand around his ear in an exaggerated listening pose. His features rearranged into an expression of horror. "Ewww! Someone flushed a toilet!"
"See! I told you! Who do you think-"
A scream came from the other end of the spacecraft.
"AMALIA!"
Noa and M exchanged a glance, the began sprinting towards the source of the noise.
"Don't call me-!" A sharp bang cut her off. "That did not sound good," she winced.
As the duo dashed down the corridor, Chris stumbled out of a doorway, jaw dripping blood, shortly followed by Dillon, whose mouth was also bleeding.
Christopher pressed his fingers to the source of the blood, forehead scrunched in pain. "Second time in two weeks..." He stopped mumbling to himself and addressed Amalia. "Some black-haired chick came out of the bathroom and started throwing hands in there."
"WHAT?"
Noa clapped his hands over his ears. "What's wrong with that?"
M spun to face him. "If I remember correctly, ten minutes ago, we were the last people ON EARTH. And now this moron is telling me there's someone ELSE?"
"Oh, dang. Fair point."
M huffed and slammed the door open.
The room was in chaos. What seemed to be a living room was in total disarray. Couches flipped, chairs ripped, everything covered in a thin spray of blood. Elena was crumpled in a corner, Mia at her side, while Emily was still attacking the stranger. Amalia sighed and cupped her hands around her mouth. "EVERYONE. Shut the heck up and sit the heck down!"
The black-haired girl spun around. When she saw Amalia, she screamed.
***
"Dillon, did you kill her?"
"Why does everyone always assume it's me who does the bad stuff? M is the one with psychopathic tendencies! You should be asking her!"
"Well, Amalia isn't the one who punched New Girl in the face."
"Noa, stop making valid points."
Amalia smacked Dillon, then Noa. "New Girl is not dead, she is CLEARLY still breathing, you bunch of morons. Dillon did not kill her, but I will kill you both if you don't stop overreacting."
Chris grunted from his perch on the chair in the corner. "Look who's talking about overreactions."
"Who asked you, pretty boy?"
"Aw, she called me pretty!"
"SHUT UP."
"Who the heck are you people?!"
Dillon slid off the couch. "Hey, New Girl's awake."
The black-haired girl on the floor sat up, head swiveling back and forth, eyes raking over everyone in the room.
"Who are you?"
Amalia crouched down in front of the girl, who flinched as she made eye contact, utter bewilderment plaguing her features. "What?"
"Who. Are. You?"
The girl narrowed her eyes. "Who's asking?"
"None of your business. Are you gonna answer my question the easy way?"
The girl on the floor crossed her arms. "What's the hard way?"
Amalia held her hand out, and Noa handed her the backpack. She stuck her hand in, moving her backup hoodie out of the way, finally pulling out the object at the very bottom of the bag.
M leveled the Hellcat at New Girl's head, her sights locked onto the center of her forehead.
"Or I shoot your brains out and we don't have to deal with you."
The girl's dark eyes widened and she frowned, leaning away from the barrel of the gun. "Isabelle. My name is Isabelle. Please, don't shoot me."
Amalia dropped her arm, a chuckle escaping her parched lips. "The safety wasn't even off, Isabelle. New Girl has no chill," she laughed.
Mia rolled her eyes. "You know, threatening to blow people's brains out is not a good thing to be laughing about," she reprimanded. "Right guys?" she asked, turning to Dillon for backup.
Unfortunately, Dillon was sitting beside Noa, the both of them rolling on the floor in a fit of silent laughter.
"Oh, my word," Mia moaned, swiveling her attention to Christopher. "Please, tell me you're more mature than these morons?" All Chris did was attempt to stifle the laughter by clapping a hand over his mouth. "You are all children."
"Oh my word oh my word," M gasped. "Did you see the look on her face? Oh my word." Mia shook her head.
"M, can we please focus?"
"Sure, sure, Mia," she answered, wiping tears from her eyes. "Oh, that was hilarious.
"Anyways, Isabelle, you said it was? Isabelle, we need to know why you're here."
"Why should I tell you?" the girl on the floor answered stubbornly.
Amalia threw her hands in the air. "Which one of us is holding a 9 millimeter?!"
"Nah, I'm out of here," Isabelle asserted, jumping to her feet.
"Hold on, there," Amalia roared, standing just as quickly. "You aren't going anywhere. You knocked out Elena, split Chris and Dillon's lips, and nearly took out Emily. I'd say you have some serious explaining to do, and you are going to do it now."
"I'm not going to tell you anything! It's not my fault you're stupid friends don't know how to fight!"
Amalia balled her fists, chest heaving with rage. "The heck did you say about my friends?"
"What, are you deaf as well as an idiot?"
Tension crackled around the two girls, their mutual hatred nearly tangible.
It was Isabelle who struck first.
ns 15.158.61.8da2
