“Mayan!” I said, shaking her awake and shining the light over her face to get her up. She stirred, clearly a bit woozy from the low oxygen nap, but she came to. She lifted a hand to shield her eyes from the light and squinted at me.

“Is it safe?” she asked.

My eyes widened at the incredible statement I was about to make. “No!”

I bounced in agitation and pointed stupidly at the cockpit. “Can you get the shuttle started? Can we fly out of here?” I asked hurriedly. I was pulling her backpack from behind me and pushing it at her.

Her eyes narrowed in confusion.

I looked back towards the door, but it was still secure.

“What is happening?” she pushed, but I just kept tugging on her hand. When she was off her ass, I shoved her toward the controls

“You said it had enough power, so? Can it go?” I urged her.

She turned towards the instrument panel. “Yeah, I think so,” she replied, but instead of getting to it, turned again to look at me in question.

For my part, I still stood bouncing in one spot like a kid that had to pee. “Go, we have to go. Now.”

“Cheetah!” she complained in frustration.

I shut my eyes. “’Kay, I went to the door after not hearing anything for a while, right? Opened it to look out into the warehouse. Saw the drone. It didn’t see me, but it was in limp mode,” I explained. My hands rubbed together in nervous tension, but she turned and crossed her arms to listen. “It was waiting for backup. It’s stuck.”

She shrugged. “So?”

“We can’t get past it, it’s at the door,” I qualified. “And it sent out a distress signal, but not the automated one. I know that one. This one’s pinging off the one machines use when under human attack.”

Mayan’s arms slowly fell, her face was already wide with shock. “Why?”

“Dunno, Mayan,” I said, “But that call means a death squad, man. If we try to run out the back, we’ll be spotted for miles from anywhere without protection from the infra-red scanners. We can’t be here. Now I bet they won’t be in a rush. It’s late and they’re probably used to false alarms out here, but Mayan,” I stretched her name for emphasis.

Suddenly convinced, she nodded. “Right.”

With relief, I watched her turn and sit in the captain’s chair, her fingers flying over the panels and switches. “Take off checklist should take about ten minutes. The engines will need at least that long. They’ll make noise when they get hot enough, Cheetah,” she warned.

I nodded. “I’ll open the paint booth’s main doors. They lead outside. I’ll unbolt them and let them swing a bit, so when we fly out they won’t hurt too bad.”

I dashed out to complete my task and glanced back to see her face lit blue and green and red in the console lights above the nose.

Moving slowly to not scrape metal on metal, I considered this plan. What would I leave behind? A shitty dorm room, barely big enough for a child, let alone a grown man. I didn’t even have a table. But Mayan, she had prospects and a family. I made up my mind that if we survived and got free, I’d drop her back off somewhere close enough she could get back without harm. She might know where I could go to hide, but there was no way I was ruining her life, too.

I looked back when the doors swung on their hinges, not open, but free. Star Hunter faced me nose on, and she looked great. If Mayan could get her to fly, I could die a happy man, having at least experienced the sensation of flight, and to have felt it in something my dad and I cared about together.

Mayan waved frantically, snapping me back into the moment.

“I have to seal the doors to do a pressure check,” she said when I arrived back inside.

I turned back and palmed the door closed again, witnessing the light glow green before turning back to the front to take the co-pilot’s seat to watch and be ready.

“Air lock is good,” she confirmed, her voice clinical. “Fuel systems, coming online. Pressure looks good. Power, low but stable, good enough for initial thrusters.”

“If we get out of here, we have to go fast and far,” I said, not wanting to interrupt, but chanced it in case it might be included in her tasks.

She nodded, her mouth moving fast in memorized checklists. “Already covered.”

“So, what are we looking at? Can we outrun them? Do we have a chance?” I couldn’t help the chattiness. I was freaking out and doing my best, but I had nothing else to do but wait.

Mayan flicked ten more things, sat back, and scanned the console again. She calculated something on her fingers, looked up and switched something else, then took a deep breath.

“Well,” she said, but paused. “The security drones are fast,” she admitted. “But they’re drones, under electric power and it’s dark, so they're drawing more than they’re charging. That will affect their efficiency.” A light flashed on the console and she reached to flip it on. I immediately heard a low whir from the back of the shuttle. “The manned hovercraft, though, they’re clunky. Not meant for speed. I think the only thing that will give us a run for our money is the security choppers that will deploy when they get us on radar. Or jets.”

“Holy shit,” I huffed in near full panic. “We have to stop. They’ll just shoot us down.”

She flipped another switch, and a vibration rumbled through the floor. “Too late for that, and no, we can’t. I know those bastards and they shoot to kill, Cheet.” She looked me square in the eye.

Junkers. She meant they shot junkers on site and she knew it for a fact.

I shook my head and turned away from her. “I’m sorry, Mayan,” I said, totally defeated that my secret hideaway could cause her to lose her life. If it were just me, I’d be totally for it.

“Hey,” she called, and I felt her hand on my shoulder. She pulled to turn me enough to see her. “I’m not,” she said seriously. “This is no life for anyone. If we can find a better way, even a better place, to live it, I’m all in.”

“But your parents!” I exclaimed.

Her lips pursed, and I saw the regret cross her eyes, but she stowed it. “I told my parents when I came here, I would change something about this place. They know I’m a pain in the ass, something like this will not surprise them. But my parents don’t like it either, Cheetah. If they could change it, they would too. I’ve gotta go my own way and I’m not a kid anymore. They’ll understand.”

“Fuck.”

Mayan only laughed. “Yah, it’s not exactly how I expected to be changing things, but it beats another shift on the piles, doesn’t it?”

At that moment, a bank of lights lit up. She leaned over and started pulling seat belts over her shoulders, but her eyes never left the console. I followed, watching her the whole time.

“You’re sure you can handle her?” I asked finally, but she only laughed at me.

“Bug squat on those steel doors or bat out of hell. You’re in my hands now, baby!”

“Fuck.”

With a last tug on her belts, she took a deep breath and looked at me. “Don’t touch anything.”

I swallowed hard.

“Going for lift, hover for trajectory course correct, then full propulsion. It should be a big kick, so bite down so you don’t bite your tongue off.”

“Fuck!”

My mind seemed unable to process it all. I watched as if it all now moved in slow motion. Her body leaned forward, tapped a screen, then her fingers lifted the five switches all at once. Instantly, Star Hunter responded and lifted us off the ground in a wobbly hover. It blew my patio chairs back and the loose tarps and other detritus tumbled around in the cramped room. Mayan’s fingers stretched and then gently wrapped around the joystick. She guided it to the left, and the nose lined up with the doors and inched forward. A clang of the shuttle's nose tapped them open and as luck would have it, there was no one waiting for us in the wide open vacant lot. I saw her grin and look ahead, but just as I was about to share in her enthusiasm, six red lights bobbed into view of the front windows.

“Fuck!” I swore.

Mayan didn’t hesitate. “Take that filthy fucker!” she shouted and shoved the joystick aft.