In our absence, the ship descended even closer to Earth. I can now make out actual houses, apartment buildings, and a few high-rises. Fascinated, my eyes take in the landscape until they fall on a familiar structure.
"The Eiffel tower, are we in France?" I cry out excitedly.
Colin laughs quietly, shaking his head, "That's not the Eiffel tower." He looks at me, amused. "That's the Funkturm. We're in Berlin, Germany."
My mind races and it's not lost on me that Colin is laughing at me. I narrow my eyes at him. "Whatever."
"It's okay." He ruffles my hair. "Just another proud red-head moment."
I puff up and cross my arms over my chest. "There is no such thing as a red-head moment."
He laughs again, "There's now."
I roll my eyes, just once I wish I could have the last word, just once. The laughter dies down quickly, though, as we realize that these could be our final moments, as the spacecraft keeps descending.
Colin puts his arm back around me, pulls me close. "I love you." He whispers into my hair.
I lift my head. "I love you too, Colin Thornton."
His lips claim mine; this is how we want to die, clinging together with all our might, our eyes closed, kissing, while the craft imperceptibly slows down.
"Autopilot?" I ask, hopeful.
"If Vren told the truth," Colin replies tightly.
First, a large forest, then a large clearing come into view; before the craft slows even more, a gentle bang resonates through the spaceship, and I hold on to Colin for balance. We landed. His eyes sparkle as he gives me another kiss. "Let's get out of here."
We make our way back into the hallway, past the dead Vren, towards the end of the spacecraft. Whatever Ka's plan was, I don't think Vren was privy to it. He had her killed; I just don't know why. But I'll find out once we get back, I promise her prone figure silently.
The large entrance opens up automatically, and we walk down the metallic ramp. I notice the warm air, I didn't see any red plants near the city when we approached, but then again, I wasn't paying that close attention. Colin sniffs the air tentatively, his mind going the same way as mine, trying to ascertain if there is any scent of the deadly plant.
"Now what?" I wonder out loud.
Colin looks around. "I guess we'll hoof it."
"Hoof it to where? We're not even on the right continent." I huff.
He looks thoughtfully towards the east. "Ever been to Moscow?"
"What?" I ask incredulously, hoping he isn't suggesting what I worry he is.
His grin is devious. "How about we go find out how good a friend our new ally Vaugh Fedorov is; you think he'll give us a ride back to Alaska?"
The plan sounds terrible, so many things could go wrong, but thinking it over, what choice do we have? We're stranded in the heart of Europe. Neither one of us knows how to fly a plane, or do we?
"Know how to fly a plane, or helicopter?" I ask, hopeful.
He shakes his head. "Sorry, doll, no."
Well, I had to try, especially since he seems to pull all kinds of neat tricks out of his sleeve most of the time.
"Less talk, more walk." He suggests with a grin and starts to march due east.
With a sigh, I follow in step beside him. "Have you ever been to Germany?"
"Couple of times, actually." He admits. "Before all this...." He makes a sweeping gesture with his hand towards the dead landscape. .... happened."
We've walked about a mile when we come across the first houses. Sweat trickles down in streams on my back, forehead, and other unmentionable places. Colin doesn't seem to fare much better. It's not as bad as it is around the plantations, but with not a cloud in the sky, the sun is beating down on us in what is easily ninety-five-degree weather, if not more.
"Want to check some houses for water and stuff or keep going?" Colin asks, stopping and wiping the sweat away from his eyes. "We probably have another five hours of sunlight before it'll get dark."
"Let's search for supplies first," I choose, I rather play it safe.
The landscape is very different from what I'm used to. One minute we're in a forested area, and the next, we're standing in the middle of a street, flanked on both sides by houses and the quaintest gas lanterns. I turn to take in the view; this is the weirdest thing I've ever seen. Like somebody stopped building, halfway down the road and said, Nope, that's it.
The houses themselves are charming, mostly crisscrossed, wooden plank fences surround large yards, holding the houses, mainly in the center of the property. Each house looks different—one like a bungalow, another like what you would expect to see in Bavaria. One has two stories, another three, another just one. Everything appears overgrown—trees, bushes, grass. But thankfully, no trace of the cursed flower. Thank God for small favors.
It almost feels as if we stepped into an alternate universe. With no trace of destruction, or alien activity and birds chirping in trees, the atmosphere is surreal. It's so peaceful here, it makes my heart ache for home. The home I had before all this happened.
A bunny hops across the road. It stops and eyes us warily as if Colin and I are intruders, and to the bunny we probably are. This place is as if time stopped, the landscape forever frozen in a slightly overgrown Norman Rockwell painting.
The rabbit takes off to the right and a cat darts by, not even glancing at us. I smile; I don't remember the last time I saw a cat, or a dog for that matter. Otherwise, there's not a trace of life. Cars are parked in an orderly fashion by the side of the road, no corpses, no indication of death anywhere.
I don't know what happened here. I thought I heard reports of Berlin being rained on, but perhaps I was mistaken,
