SF Drabble #433 “Decompression”

There was an odd noise, like a hailstone cracking a window, and then an odd hiss that became a whistle. It was only when Carlos’ ears popped that he understood. “We’ve been holed!” He pushed off, sailed across the compartment towards the intercom panel, tried to triangulate the noise as he went. Where is it?

He mashed the broadcast button. “Meteor strike. Lab two. Somebody get down here with a couple patches.” There wasn’t a response, but he didn’t expect one. They’d be scrambling.

Carlos pushed off again, listened: the whistle was intensifying, deepening. He was starting to feel lightheaded…