“Almost...there...” She called to Martin and Derek.
She was panting, and if they called back to her, she couldn’t tell. Her blood pumped through her ears and echoed in her head. She came up on the console quickly. It sparked and she was once again charged with hope. The captain’s room was open.
Amanda slowed her run as she arrived and turned to the left, yanked the console keyboard down, and smashed the little red button with her palm, crying out in triumph. She looked up, expecting Martin and Derek by the door prepared to run ahead of her towards the storage bay, but they weren’t there. She spun around, searching the room in case they had scooted in behind her. They weren’t there, but the room was far from empty. She gasped and covered her mouth with her hands.
The room had a built in bunk, a dresser with two drawers, a small refrigerator, and a console. Every inch of the room and the floor was covered in strange black writing.. Strange letters in a language she had never seen before. Amanda stepped back, confused, and turned her palms over. There was writing on the keyboard too, and she had missed it. Now the ink from the keyboard was on her hands.
She looked again. Not ink. Blood.
Amanda screamed and ran out of the room, not caring if she was pursued or where Martin or Derek were. They knew where to go. She was nearly there.
“Amanda!”
“Amanda! Help!”
Amanda froze. It was Derek and Martin. She scanned looked down the hall, straining to hear.
“Here, we’re here!” Derek called. This time Amanda was ready and could pinpoint them a door down on the right. The airlock.
She peered through the porthole. It was dark, but on the next set of emergency lights she’d be able to see them.
The room lit up.
The creature was waiting. The captain, tentacles and horrible skinned body, was on the other side of the door. It walked towards her and she flipped the switch on the panel to her left, uncovering the button to release the airlock.
I got you now, fucker.
The emergency lighting flipped on. The room was lit in red, and the creature was there at the porthole, She could see what was left of its face. Its eyes were black, like the deepest void of space; its skin peeled away from around its mouth. Hundreds of tentacles clogged its mouth and nose.
“Amanda, no!”
She pressed the airlock button. The emergency lighting faded to the ship’s usual fluorescent glow just in time for her to see Derek and Martin run for the airlock door, but a rotating amber light above the door told her it was too late. The airlock was engaged. It hissed as Derek’s and Martin’s faces were locked in horror, their bodies forever frozen as the temperature dropped in the room. The door opened fully, launching them into deep space.
She screamed. Tears cascaded down her face. What have I done? That wasn’t them. It was the creature. I saw it!
Amanda ran on fear and mania, her mouth agape, yet unable to scream anymore. Wild-eyed and heaving, she continued on to the storage bay, rounded the last corner, and dumped out into the widest part of the ship. Off to her left was a suit and three white Velo-Paks mounted to the wall. She hopped the railing, landing on top of a plastic bin, and hopped down to the floor.
Terminal limits in t-minus four minutes.
“Almost there. Almost there.” She panted, donning the suit. She fitted the pants first, threw the coat overtop, and attached the gloves and helmet. A heads-up display asked her if she wanted to confirm seal.
“Yes, confirm seal, damn it!”
A whirring sound told her the suit had connected at its seams, and a gush of clean, cool oxygen-rich air filled her nose. She breathed deep and turned to the bay door. From the suit’s belt, she yanked on a steel tether, pulling out as much as she could, and clipped the line on an anchor point above her head.
She looked at the Velo-Paks again, then at the bay door as the nose of The Helix came into view. It was close. Way closer than she thought it would be.
Blessed ship, how good it is to see you!
She wouldn’t need the Velo-Pak after all. She could close the distance. She just needed to time the roll of the ship. Once she was on, she could activate the mag boots and space walk to the port on the top of The Helix. This could work. It had to.
Terminal limits in t-minus two minutes.
“Fuck it,” she said and backed into a harness next to the door and secured herself in before slamming the depressurization button. An alarm drowned out the klaxon as the room lit with florescent light and the bay door opened, launching its cargo into space. Boxes, a small lander, and other supplies rocketed silently out and she held on tight until the ship’s bulkhead doors shut. Once they did and the pressure outside matched the bay, she unstrapped herself, waddled to the edge of the bay, and looked out at The Helix.
Her ship was small but quick, and its roll was slow. She gave thanks to it again. It knew what she needed. Somehow it knew.
Terminal limits in t-minus one minute.
Without a look back, Amanda pressed a button on the small panel on her wrist and deactivated the magnetization on her boots, bent her knees, and leapt into open space. The tether untangled behind her.
She floated in the vast emptiness of space, enveloped by the feeling of being insignificant; a mere speck of dust. She closed her eyes for a moment, breathed deep, and allowed hope and relief to wash over her. She was done. She had made it.
Amanda was jerked awake by something pulling hard at her midsection, almost giving her whiplash. She was instantly yanked from her moment of bliss. Her tether had run its full length. No problem; her suit had its own
