Chapter Twenty-Eight
Bodies smashed into a thick paste all along the interior of a shuttle. Connor couldn't shake the image, no matter what he tried. Those had been Coil soldiers. They had been people like him.
The stench of it. The sight of it.
He shuddered. Even knowing that something like that had happened made complaining about the relative comfort and safety of the Lucky Sevens feel pathetic.
Sure, things broke down—were breaking down all the time—but they hadn't been pulped. The air was a little stuffy, but once he and Drew replaced the scrubbers and cleaned the shafts, that would clear up. The sections of the ship where the air circulation system didn't quite balance out? That could be fixed, too.
He was in one of those places, standing outside Selen's cabin. Everything sounded
