Tuesday, August 29, 2017

Story #2

So, *coughs* I do NOT guarantee that any of this is accurate. I honestly shouldn't write sci-fi, I don't know anything about science. But hey. It's for fun.


Veronica gasped as the grip on her arm melted. Her knees trembled as she sawed at the strap, willing it to snap. At last, she felt it give and nearly fell forward. She caught herself on the arm of the chair, and stopped to get her breath back. She stared down at the boy in front of her. He couldn’t be very much older than she, he looked to be about eighteen. He had short clipped black hair, and a cut on his temple had dried blood around and under it. It appeared to have bled quite some time, it ran all the way back behind his ear and down his neck, his unusual black shirt was stiff with it. He had pale skin, and a spray of freckles over his nose, even unconscious, he looked intense and ready. She cut through the last belt, and he was free. She stopped to think, but her thoughts wouldn’t stay in order. How could an ordinary ride have turned into something so strange and drastic? How was she going to lower an unconscious grown male fifteen feet without rope, into a river? She looked around her, searching for something to help her. Behind the chair and the controls, there was a door, that when she put weight on it, slid open. She entered what appeared to be sleeping quarters. There was a bunk on one side, a mirror with a sink on the other, it was like nothing she’d seen before. The farmhouse had running water, but nothing like this, and where did it come from? She glanced around the tiny room once more, the only thing she found was a satchel sitting on the bed. She snatched it up and fumbled with the clasp. The whole wreck smelled strange, but not unpleasant. She couldn’t quite place what the scent was, but it was everywhere, from the moment she’d stepped onboard. Veronica dumped the contents of the satchel onto the bed and stared down, it was nothing useful, and she felt guilty about going through the boy’s things, but the strap of the satchel might help in getting him down. She was about to turn away, but hesitated a moment, then put the things back in the bag. If she was going to take him, she might as well take some of his things too. Even though she had no idea what they were or what they did, they just looked like hunks of shiny metal to her. Some of them had engravings like that on the outside of the pod. She pulled the blankets off the bunk, and hurried back into the cockpit. She walked to where the door had been, and looked down at the water. It wasn’t deep at all, just a creek, if either one of them fell, they’d hit their head hard. She took a deep breath, and walked back the boy. She felt his arm experimentally, testing his weight and making sure it wasn’t broken. It felt fine, but he was exactly like the metal she’d found. Extremely heavy for his size. She tried lifting him into a fireman’s carry, but couldn’t even lift him out of the chair. She took a step back, her finely arched eyebrows scrunched with thought. She took a wrap around him with the blanket, just seeing how it would work. It was hugely bulky and didn’t leave enough material to grip or tie things to on either side. She took it back and held it in her hands. She looked down at her clothing. She might have to cut her jeans off at the knee or higher to get all the material she needed. She began to plan. She’d need to make a kind of harness around his chest and legs with something, probably the blanket. The severed safety straps might come in handy for that, but since they were already firmly attached to the chair that was bolted to the floor, she decided to use them for part of the main rope. She took out her knife and attempted to poke a hole in the blanket. It wasn’t wool, or any kind of material she’d felt before, it was extremely strong, just like the seat straps. It took a lot of poking and pressure to get the tip of her knife through, which was a good sign. It might take her awhile, but if she could get it cut into strips, it would work well for rope. She sat down cross legged on the hard floor and got to work, she discovered that if she could get the seam torn, the rest would tear fairly easily. It took her about half an hour, but she got the whole thing torn into strips. It was swelteringly hot in the pod, the sun had shifted to shine directly down the canyon, and it was like a greenhouse. With the blanket in her lap, which was as warm as it was hard to cut, she was drenched with sweat. Her mouth was parched, and she wondered how Shad was doing. Veronica thought and mumbled to herself as she worked. How long had the pod been there? It couldn’t have been more than a day, but she was worrying about the boy. How long had it been since he’d had water? Food? What if he was injured in a way she couldn’t see and moving him made it worse? It was such a risk, but she didn’t know what else to do. She could go back to the farm, but it would take her an hour to get back there, and it was ten miles from there to the nearest town, five to a neighbor with a phone. This was her only option. Get him down, get him home. Maybe by then Grandfather would be back and he could help. She couldn’t leave him here, it would be well after nightfall before she could get back with help. Get him down, get to a phone. She began tying the stips into a single long strip. She looked up and around, and found exactly what she was hoping for. There was a handle to assist you in getting into the pod about the doorway, it would be perfect to use as a fulcrum for lowering him down. With all of the strips of blanket tied securely together, it made a length of rope about twenty feet long. She approached him again, praying he’d stay unconscious throughout the whole thing, it would be terrible if he woke up right as she was lowering him and began to flail. Taking a deep breath, she reached under his back and passed the end of the rope around him. She didn’t know what she was doing, she just knew she needed it to support his huge weight and not let either end of him tip towards the rocks. She experimented a little bit, and eventually found something she guessed would work. It wasn’t too far, but she knew he’d wake up with marks from the narrow rope. She felt his forehead, he was burning hot with a fever, and completely soaked in sweat. He was breathing quickly and unevenly, and tossing. A few times she heard him mutter the strange words he’d said before he passed out.

“Jume, kernay, yala.” And a few others. She didn’t know what they meant, her exhausted mind hurt from thinking, and she was severely dehydrated. She’d been here for about an hour now, and it was getting on towards late afternoon. She needed to move more quickly. If they were caught out here after dark with no food and no weapon, with two people to carry on one animal, things would be bad. She looped the end of the rope through the fulcrum, and pulled a little, watching the boy to see how he moved. His head lolled on his chest, but with a lot of force, she’d be able to get him to the edge. He looked like he’d only weigh a hundred and sixty at most, but he was at least three hundred. It didn’t seem right, but her poor brain hurt too much to try to figure it out. She held the rope in one hand and tried picking him up under the armpits, and managed to get him out of the chair, she laid him on his back, head very near the door. She desperately hoped she’d tied all the knots well enough. Veronica gave a mighty heave on the rope, and he was dangling fifteen feet over the river. She braced her feet, and let her breath out slowly. Her heart was beating wildly, and her hands begged her to drop the cursed thing. Her hair got in her face, but she held onto the rope with both hands. She let it out inches at a time, it was going alright so far. He hung face up, his arms and legs dangled, and head rolled back, she needed to be careful not to let him swing and hit the rock wall. She let it out slowly, another foot, he was only about ten feet above now. Inch by inch, he neared the water. Suddenly, her hands slipped, he fell, and went crashing into the water. She was thrown forward, and onto her hands and knees, very nearly out of the pod. She flipped her hair out of her face, and frantically peered over the edge, he lay on the rocks below, with his face underwater.
.....

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