Hourglass

by Pauline C. Harris

  It suddenly hits me that everyone from this mission—the colonists, are all dead. It smacks me in the face like a slap, because after the loss of Mom and Dad, and with Andrew telling me about our real parents...I’d thought for a minute that they were still out there. That they’d be waiting on Earth. And I feel like I’ve lost my family all over again.

  And then suddenly the sadness is swept away, or more like yanked away and stuffed in a corner for later, because anger sweeps over me like a giant wave, engulfing any rational thoughts, anything else I was feeling, and coating it in hot, furious, rage. I was angry with Prince before I knew about this. I was angry he’d kept the children away from their parents—our parents—that he’d had the audacity to keep them for a decade. But now everything’s changed because I’m realizing that Prince truly has no thoughts of ever letting them go. Because if he’s held onto them for five hundred years, why would he ever let them leave?

  And the thought sends fire burning through my mind, through my chest, and heart, and limbs, turning my thoughts to liquid fury. I grip the records tighter in my hand before spinning around and practically racing back through the trees and down the path I’d come.

  It takes me half the time to get back to Prince’s camp, and when I do I spot him sitting by the campfire with Bella, poking the charred and fireless remains of last night. I storm through the clearing, the children nearby scenting the conflict in the air and scattering. Prince turns just in time for me to reach out my mechanical hand and shove him off the log.

  Bella’s eyes widen at the same moment that Prince’s narrows. I see his jaw set, his eyes turn to slits, his muscles tighten, but before he has time to get up and before I have time to think about what I’m doing—how dangerous this is—I reach out and slip my black, metal, fingers around his neck, shoving him away from the fire and pinning him against the woodshed beside it. His eyes widen in surprise at my actions, and then in shock that he can’t scramble out of my grasp. Because the hand he took was replaced with a better one. A stronger one. An indestructible one.

  “You’re lying to them,” I spit. “To all of them. And you’ve kept them here for far too long.”

  Prince’s eyes are wider than I’d ever thought they’d go, and he’s scrambling at my hands, not because I’m choking him, not because he can’t breathe, but because he has no control and that’s what’s killing him.

  “Give me my crew,” I order.

  But suddenly I see Prince’s expression soften. Not in understanding, or remorse, like I’d thought at first, but into a soft smile. Smug and delirious right before Prince’s face changes so suddenly, I almost lose my grip.

  And staring back at me is Winifred.

  I shriek, letting go and stumbling backwards, before Andrew’s words resurface in my mind, reminding me what Prince is capable of, that he can become anyone he’s ever touched. Practically anyone on this planet.

  Prince laughs for a few seconds before his expression turns dark, his eyes going black, his lip curling in disgust. My heart hammers in my chest, demanding to know what I’ve done. Why I attacked him, insulted him, embarrassed him, when I know what he’s capable of. I know too well. I nearly trip as I stumble backwards, away from him, but he only advances. And in seconds he’s standing right before me, inches from my face, his eyes killing me enough as it is, a million horrible thoughts running through my head. But before he has a chance to do whatever it is he’d wanted to, someone steps in front of me, long blonde hair swinging past her shoulders.

  Bella rests her hands on his shoulders, gently pushing him back and I see his eyes really soften this time. He looks at her for a long moment and although he’s still tense and furious and glaring, I see the insanity leave his eyes—the maddening urge to act in the spur of the moment.

  I force myself to relax and straighten my shoulders, staring defiantly back at him over Bella’s shoulder. His glower remains as he leans past Bella to spit at me, “You’ll see your crew when I allow it.” Bella keeps a firm grip on his arm. “And that’s not going to be any time soon.” His eyes burn as he spins around and stalks off in the opposite direction, somewhere into the trees. Bella’s arm sag to her sides and she watches him until he’s gone before twisting around to face me. Her eyes are sad. She looks at me for so long that I’m about to turn away, assuming she’s never going to speak.

  “Your crew is safe,” she eventually says. She looks back to where Prince had vanished and then walks off to her tent, silently folding her hands together against her chest. I watch her go, suddenly feeling exhausted. My body practically sags. With fear and anger and worry and relief. I’m not sure what I was doing. Obviously, not thinking. What did I think provoking him would accomplish?

  I collapse onto the log nearest me, facing the dead fire. I put my head in my hands and breathe. All I need is my crew. Then I can get out of here. If I only knew where they were. For some reason, Bella’s words comfort me. Like I can actually trust her. I’d trust her more than I would Prince. At least I know they’re alive. But that’s all. I just want to see them.

  I sit this way until dusk eventually stumbles in, surrounding the camp in a dark haze. The fire is started and soon more and more people come closer and closer, taking seats around the fire, or playing games. Win comes out of the darkness to sit beside me and although we don’t talk, I can feel she’s glad to have me around. I’m sure I’m nothing like she remembered me, but we’re happy to have each other.

  I stay there until dusk turns to night, the stars twinkling above me, reminding me of the world I left behind—the world I’ll fight to get back to, or die trying.

  Chapter Eleven

  I decide to take my chances. I decide that Prince might not be following me when I venture into the woods. That maybe since he’s got most of my crew, he’s only guarding wherever they are. What would I be doing wandering around the forest that could possibly harm him?

  Today, I’m going back to Hourglass. I know Prince knows that two of my crewmembers never left the ship, but he also knows I’m not leaving without the ones he took, and along with the fact that the countless times I’ve left the camp I’ve never seen or heard a single soul, makes me feel somewhat confident that this is a safe shot. That I can pull this off and be okay.

  Either way, I’m dying to know how Sylvia, Angelica, and Andrew are doing. Part of me is a little uncertain they would ever trust Andrew in the first place, so I’m half expecting to find him sitting outside the sealed metal ramp still waiting to be let in.

  It takes me about half an hour to wander through the forest and back to where Hourglass landed, stopping, zigzagging, and checking the whole way to be sure no one is following me. When I stumble across the large, gray, metal hull it’s almost startling. It feels like ages since I’ve seen it. I’ve been gone for far too long.

  I smile as I approach, beaming up at the ship like it’s a person—my home. I hurry up to the keypad by the ramp, type in the passcode and it slowly creaks open. I step up onto the hard metal flooring and into the hallway of the ship, the familiarity of sights, smells, and feelings slowly enveloping me and calming every nerve in my body. I close my eyes and take a deep breath.

  But then I hear a shout and the hammer of footsteps and my eyes fly open to see Sylvia standing at the end of the hallway, a gun in her hands. But then her expression falls, her hand dropping to her side. “Jude?” she nearly shrieks. I smile as Sylvia wastes no time in sprinting down the hallway and colliding full force into me with a hug. I laugh, hugging her back, because all the time I hadn’t been truly sure she was still here—that she hadn’t been captured along with the others.

  “Angelica?” I ask and Sylvia nods, stepping back.

  “She’s here too. Along with some guy who claims you sent him.” Her eyes question mine and I nod while pushing the button to pull the ramp up.

  “Yeah, Andrew,” I tell her. “He’s...” I trail off. My mind scrambles for some way to explain him to her—some simple sentence to show our connecti
on. But I remain silent as I realize how much I have to explain to her. How much I’ve only just learned. “A friend.” I wave my hand. “I’ll explain later. Where are Angelica and Andrew?”

  “Eating. We were just having lunch.” I follow Sylvia back down the hallway and to the diner, noticing a million questions in her eyes. Questions I’m sure she’s saving for when we get to the others, knowing I won’t want to repeat them three times.

  We enter the room and Angelica nearly jumps when she sees me, probably not expecting another person to enter the room. “Captain?” she says, a smile spreading across her face. I smile back, glancing at Andrew who seems equally as surprised.

  “Captain?” he echoes in disbelief.

  “It’s my ship,” I tell him a little smugly, gesturing to the room around us.

  “So what happened?” Sylvia asks as I’m sitting down. “Andrew said you turned yourself in to...” She glances around, a puzzled expression on her face.

  “Prince,” I inform her.

  “A bit pretentious of a name...”

  I shrug. “Yeah. Anyway, that’s basically what happened. I turned myself in and that’s where I’ve been.”

  “But...you’re here,” Andrew states.

  “He’s not being very...” I shrug. “Controlling.” I decide not to tell them about the little spat last night. I’d rather they not know.

  “How are the guys?” Angelica pipes up.

  I purse my lips together. “I haven’t seen them,” I admit. “I think that’s the reason he isn’t treating me...well, like a prisoner. He knows I’m stuck here without my crew, so withholding them from me is his form of custody.” Everyone is silent for a long time. “But I know they’re okay,” I add.

  We sit in silence for a moment while everyone pokes around at their food, not eating much. “So how’s the engine?” I chance the subject. “Any progress?”

  Sylvia, Angelica, and Andrew’s faces look like mine must have when they’d asked about the guys. Angelica shakes her head. “We’re trying,” she tells me. “We just aren’t sure what’s wrong yet.”

  I nod, staring down at the table. I can’t help but notice the suffocating feeling slowly enveloping my insides. Without my crew, without my ship...I’m nothing.

  “Jude, can I talk to you?” Andrew asks and I look up.

  “Uh, sure.”

  He gestures to the hallway so I get up and follow him out, aware of Sylvia and Angelica’s gazes on our backs as we exit the room. As soon as we’re a ways down the hallway I catch his arm and turn him around.

  “What is it?” I ask.

  “Have you told them?” he asks right back. Once again, I’m startled by the blackness of his eyes.

  I narrow my eyes. “Told them what?”

  “You know what—that you used to live here.”

  I shake my head. “Obviously not. I’ve only been here a few minutes.” And then something else dawns on me, prickling at my insides a little. “And you know what, I can’t believe you didn’t tell me,” I say. Andrew’s gaze looks lost and I glance around, feeling silly for mentioning it. “That we’re hundreds of years old,” I spit out the words because I’m still angry, shocked, or humiliated by saying them.

  Andrew smiles a little. “So you remembered.”

  I shake my head. “I found an old record book. It had years in it—the years we were all born.”

  Andrew nods. “Now you understand why Prince isn’t just a teeny tiny problem, something you can fix overnight. He’s had these kids for centuries and there’s no way he’s letting any of them go just because you say so.”

  I’m silent, unsure of what to say to that. Sure I’d come to that conclusion, but I wasn’t ready to hear it said out loud. It adds to the feeling of suffocation. What would I spend my life doing stuck on this planet? The thought practically pushes all the air from my lungs, leaving me hyperventilating. Suddenly I feel the wall against my back and it takes me a second or two to realize I’d actually stumbled. My breathing is doing something weird and so is my heart. It’s like they’re conspiring against me to try to overthrow my rationally thinking mind. I feel something brush against my arm and see that it’s Andrew’s hand, the dark vines snaking down to his fingers where they touch my skin.

  “Are you okay?” he’s asking, and his grip tightens a little, straightening me up.

  I stand, trying hard to ignore how wobbly my legs are feeling. “I’m fine,” I mutter. “I just can’t stay here. I can’t.” My teeth are clenched so tightly together that my mouth starts to hurt, so I forcefully remove them from each other.

  “You know...” Andrew says after a pause. His voice is softer, a little less superior or haughty. He shuffles his feet, staring down at the ground, and then looking back up to me. “I know what I’ve said about your chances of leaving here...but if anyone can get off this planet, it’s you,” he tells me, and for some reason his saying it means more to me than all the plans I’ve concocted over the last few days, even seeing Sylvia and Angelica.

  “Why?” I ask, and for a moment Andrew seems lost for words.

  “Because you escaped. And I...I spent a lifetime staring up at the stars, remembering the girl you were here on this planet and then the girl you became in order to leave, that brave girl who risked her life just for freedom...” He seems to be rambling now, almost talking more to himself than to me, but I’m soaking up every word he’s saying, torn between wanting to love them, and shocked that he ever paid so much attention. “I spent years looking up at the stars and thinking about you. And how you escaped.” Andrew’s gaze flits to the floor and he bites his lip. “If anyone can do anything on this planet, it’s you Jude. You’ve done it before and you can do it again.”

  I’m shocked to silence. My mouth is open as if I’m ready for a reply, but nothing is coming out. All I’m thinking about are the words he said, how he said them...and the fact that his hand is still resting on my arm.

  And suddenly I’m shoved back to the memory of him and me lying in the grass as children and staring up at the stars. It makes me sad that that’s my only memory of him. Because surely there must have been more.

  I notice that neither of us has said anything for the span of a few seconds—a few heartbeats. And I’m not sure whether this is awkward or...okay. I’m suddenly hyper aware of Andrew’s fingers against my arm and then before I can say anything, step away, or create a new subject of conversation, Andrew leans in and kisses me. And my mind roars with the speed of a hurricane, too many thoughts flitting around with nowhere to go.

  It’s unexpected yet anticipated at the same time. I realize that I truly have no idea who he is—I barely know him—and that practically everything leading up to this moment has been antagonizing at best, and yet I want this to happen, I can’t think of anything better.

  But suddenly I hear footsteps and Andrew practically leaps away from me as Sylvia rounds the corner. Her eyebrows furrow as she surveys our startled expressions and I only hope that my hair isn’t messy, or Andrew isn’t showing some weird expression or anything else as stupidly obvious. But Sylvia merely smiles, albeit a little awkwardly, and asks, “So what’s going on?”

  I clear my throat at the same time Andrew clears his, and I send him a look. “We were just talking about...” I trail off, suddenly realizing that everything Andrew told me in our conversation—devoid of the actual kissing—was true. “I have something to tell you,” I confess.

  An hour later after everyone is seated in the dining room and I’ve spilled basically everything I know about this planet and my complicated past with it, silence screams throughout the room like radio static. And yet, I have nothing to say that will make any of it better. In my mind I pan through the normal phrases that you say in awkward situations—the apology, a random laugh, some weird excuse, and none of them seem fitting for this. What do you say after you’ve admitted you’re about five hundred years old? Ha-ha, weird, I know...

  I glare at the tabletop, wishing all this tension a
nd discomfort to evaporate into the air.

  “What she’s saying is true,” Andrew pipes in for me, although I’m not quite sure whether it’s helping. “That’s how I know her. We knew each other from before.”

  Sylvia just stares at him like she can’t believe a word he’s saying. She almost looks angry at him, like he’s stolen the one thing that Sylvia and I had always had—the longest and most enduring friendship.

  I shake my head, trying to break the silence and strain. “But the important thing now, is to get Holden, Jackson, and Gregory back and get off this planet,” I state for what feels like the hundredth time. It’s all I’ve thought about lately.

  “And how are we supposed to do that?” Sylvia jumps in. “You said yourself that you haven’t even seen them yet.”

  I nod. “I know, but I’m going back and hopefully can find out more about where they are. And any other information we might find useful.” Sylvia and Angelica seem to relax a bit at the mention of my plan. Like anything’s better than hundred-year-old children and a planet who’s sucked back one of its inhabitants. “Speaking of which, I should get back,” I tell them. “Prince will wonder where I’ve been and I can’t let him know I’ve seen you.” I stand up, wasting no time in lengthy goodbyes before heading for the door.

  Andrew catches up to me once I’ve reached the ramp, jogging to a stop beside me. “Be careful,” is all he says, staring me in the eye for a few seconds as if to emphasize that he means it, before stepping back and letting me push the button and exit the ship.

  Oddly enough, although nothing about my situation has really changed, I feel better as I walk through the woods back to Prince’s camp. And I’m not sure what did it. Maybe I feel more hopeful about our plans of escape, maybe it was seeing Sylvia and Angelica alive and safe.

  And maybe it was the kiss with Andrew. Which I’m trying not to think about. Because every time it enters my brain it fogs my mind and forces me to reanalyze a million situations, searching for answers I most likely won’t find. It’s exhausting my head when I need it to think about more important things. Like getting off this planet.