Tim's Arc

Chapter 8 of 11

Jake was gone again. He had slipped between the pallets to keep the crew guessing, and now Tim could not see him anywhere. The baby slept against Tim's chest. Riley and Max crouched beside him. Across the bay, the repair crew spread out, sweeping lights over the floor. If they cornered Jake, the group lost its only lookout. And Tim had no way to tell his brother where they were or when to run. "We need to wave him over," Riley whispered. "But if we stand up, they scan us." Tim scanned the crate stacks. He spotted a toppled supply unit near the changing station wall. Baby clothes spilled from its shelves, tiny shirts and bright socks scattered on the floor. His plan formed fast. A signal did not have to be a shout. It could be a thing his brother would know. He pulled a yellow baby shirt from the pile. Jake had packed clothes like it for his sister, weeks ago. Tim tied it to the end of a long handling pole. He raised it just above the crate, quick, then down. A small flash of color in the gray bay. Only someone looking for them would catch it. Nothing. Tim's heart sank. He lifted it again. Then a worker shouted. Boots pounded. A small figure darted across the open floor between the crew and the ship. A little girl, no older than three, in a shirt and a diaper, laughing as she chased a toy that spun through the air. She had wandered in from somewhere beyond the bay, free and loud and wrong for this place. "Runner!" a worker called. "Secured area!" The whole crew turned. They ran after the girl, arms wide, trying to herd her. She squealed and dodged, thinking it a game. Every light swung away from Tim's crates. In the chaos, Jake's head rose above a pallet two rows over. He had seen the shirt. His eyes found Tim's pole, then Tim's face. Tim waved him in, hard. Jake nodded and moved, low and fast, while the crew chased the wandering child the other way. He reached them, breathing hard. "Smart," he said, touching the yellow shirt. "I almost missed it." "Where were you?" Tim asked. "Drawing them off. But that little one just did my job better." Jake glanced back at the crew, still grabbing for the laughing girl. "They'll have her logged in a minute. Poor kid." Tim looked at the child. He could do nothing for her now, and he knew it. The crew closed around her. Her laugh cut off. But Jake was back. The group was whole, lookout and all. Tim pointed across the floor. The cargo ramp stood open, unguarded now, every worker turned the wrong way. "Go," Tim said. "While they're busy. We won't get this again."