Sidney's Escape

by Nirina Stone

  For hours, they sit in this contraption. Feels even longer, what with the smell and the loud breathing, and their lack of movement. Sidney’s managed to fall asleep again—he seriously wonders how she does that so easily.

  Finally, the wind outside seems to dissipate some and something on Gideon’s console has him move again, pressing buttons, testing out whatever he needs to test. Henry’s shifted to his side but his left leg is asleep. The discomfort makes him edgy again but he looks at Sidney, peaceful in her slumber, and reminds himself if she can handle this, surely he can too. Maybe not for much longer, but he’ll try, dang it.

  Chapter Thirty Six

  Sidney

  SHE TAKES A SMALL SIP of water, though Henry insists that she drink heaps more. She trusts him when he says there is far more water than they’ll need in the container behind the car, but since none of them know how long they’ll still be in the vehicle, she decides rationing is best. She remembers the time when she and Nayne had hidden in a hole for days while raiders had taken over their spot. They couldn’t move, couldn’t make a sound, sometimes had to hold their breaths if any of the raiders came too close.

  But the worst part of all, she remembers, is how thirsty they got while they waited. They’d had just a little bit of water left and were traveling towards one of the lakes but had to hide before they got there. She remembers thirst—if anything, it was worse than hunger. Thirst made her lips crack and bleed, made her head hurt and slowed her limbs. She couldn’t think properly, everything was unfocused and slow and fuzzy up until the moment they could drink again. It wasn’t something she ever wants to experience again. So she takes one more tiny sip and ignores Henry when he nags her to have more.

  Gideon’s still pushing and twisting buttons, doing whatever he’s doing, but the vehicle’s stopped responding for several minutes now. Gideon bangs his palms against the console and swears out loud again, confirming Sidney’s suspicions that something important broke during the storm.

  The glass roof of the car is on her left, her leg partly on it, and when she peers through the gap in the top, she can see sky. Not much of it, but it’s there. She realizes they’re probably buried to some degree in the sand.

  When the car lilts slightly to the right, she thinks something’s kicked in again but then the ground moves unnaturally below them and when she hears Henry’s loud gasp, she stares at the spot he’s watching. The red earth is moving past them like a stream, she thinks. She hasn’t been around this sand that long but it still seems like an unnatural thing. Then, a large eye, the same size as their car opens up and peers at them through the glass, and she screams.

  Chapter Thirty Seven

  Petra

  CATS EVERYWHERE, SOME unmoving, some sitting still and watching as she walks by. They’ve pretty much taken over the dome and her scanner tells her that, other than the occasional bird or water lizard, there is hardly any other wildlife left in the Blue Dome. She’s at the southern edge of the dome, scanning and analyzing metal railings that make up its support. She knows that the original entryway has long been welded shut, given the highways and roads to the other domes no longer exist, however she makes her way to the metal doors where engineers were able to travel to an even smaller dome on the outside edge.

  She tests her fingernails, heating them up as high as she can, then applies them to the edge of the metal and allows them to grow, melting the inferior metal as they go. She does the same thing over and over again until, finally, with one quick shove of her hand, the door pushes out and she steps onto the platform—the final platform before the vast red desert in front of her. She shuts the door closed behind her again, remembering it’s best to keep the place secure in case they do manage to fix whatever is broken in order for the re-emergence to happen.

  She experiences a surge of energy, of strength, given that the planet is made from the base metals that she is a part of. Some of it seeps into her, and helps her scan even further out than she would have been able to within the constraints of the Blue Dome.

  Then she turns south, the direction which Sidney and her companions would have taken.

  Petra breaks into a run.

  It must be seven hours later when she slows to a walk, approaching a group of red four-legged beings. Three of them raise their heads to watch her and her scans tell her, with the night nearing its end, it’s time for her to recharge. So she stops, shuts down most processes.

  Some of the animals move in closer and a calf licks her arm. They move towards a bright crimson bush to her right and, as some graze, the rest sit around her as if in protection.

  As she prepares her systems to recharge, they run through an automated defrag—she hasn’t had one in years and allows her systems to take care of themselves. Whatever it was that limited her in the dome is no longer a constraint. As she falls asleep in the way a robot does, she commits Sidney’s face to memory; Henry’s as well. When she wakes, she knows it won’t take her hours to remember them again.

  Chapter Thirty Eight

  Henry

  SIDNEY’S SCREAM CUTS off his yell and he finally sees Gideon scrambling into action, pushing himself out of his seat and facing them in a low crouch.

  “Okay,” Gideon says. “That’s a Red Snake. It looks like an adult. They don’t get much bigger than that. They’re normally in hibernation this time of year. The good news is, that means it will be slower than usual, confused, and tired. It won’t be at a hundred percent physical capacity.”

  “And the bad news?” Henry says as he lowers into an uncomfortable crouch in front of him. Gideon has three small containers in his hand, with straps hanging off them. Henry had seen him pack them, assumed they were just more reserves for the trip. Gideon ensures Sidney has hers securely placed over her back, covering her own trusty knapsack which she refuses to leave behind. Then he hands another one to Henry as he secures his.

  “The bad news is—it hasn’t eaten in months. When it realizes it’s hungry, it’ll be pissed that we woke it from its slumber under the ground. It’ll be snappy.”

  Oh good, Henry thinks. Just what we need right now. An angry, starving snake. Still, he secures the bag behind him as Gideon gives them both quick instructions on what they need to do next.

  “Why can’t we just wait it out in here?” Sidney asks. “Aren’t we safer in here?”

  “We’re probably on top of a nest,” Gideon explains. “I can’t be certain but I think it’s best not to wait to be eaten, frankly. The littler snakes would be able to get in here and when they do, it will be far too late for us to react. We’ll be eaten alive.”

  Henry’s eyes are on Sidney—so tiny and wispy, he thinks, and yet, she has a certain determination in her eye he’s noticed before but couldn’t quite place until now. She doesn’t look even remotely scared, he thinks as Gideon moves back to the console and grabs his disc.

  “Get ready,” Gideon says. “Eyes on me soon as we’re out of here, and run like you’ve never run before.”

  Don’t have to tell me twice, Henry thinks, just as Gideon looks around, sees the way is clear—or as clear as he can tell since they’re still half covered in red sand—and manually retracts the glass top, and runs.

  Henry doesn’t hesitate—the moment that Sidney’s out of the compartment on Gideon’s heels, he jumps up and runs as fast as his legs can carry him. His left one is still asleep, to the point that the impact on the tight red ground shoots up his leg, his back, hurting like razor blades with every step—but he runs, they all run without looking back. The wind hasn’t completely died, but at least its impact is lessened with their goggles on. As Gideon and Sidney run even farther ahead, Henry’s leg finally gives in underneath him and he drops with a grunt. He nearly calls out but bites his lip to silence himself. He knows better than to bring them down with him. If he’s about to be swallowed by a snake right now, so be it he decides. At least they’ll be fine. At least she’ll be fine. He can think of worse ways to die, than to sacrifice himself for that
kid.

  When he hasn’t been eaten yet, he fights to get back on his feet, then remembers Gideon’s instructions when it came to the pack. He looks behind him, doesn’t see anything but red air, though there’s a slight hissing sound—he can’t tell if it’s still the wind or possible snakes coming his way. Still, when he turns back around, he can’t see Sidney or Gideon any more. If this isn’t the moment Gideon mentioned, he thinks, I don’t know when is. So he depresses the button to the right of the strap around his shoulder and drops back down to the ground as his backpack shoots out into a large form that quickly encases him thoroughly, so thoroughly he knows he’ll likely pass out from panic in it. Still, I’d rather this than a snake’s stomach, he reckons, the same moment he hears a voice speaking to him from within the small bubble.

  Chapter Thirty Nine

  Sidney

  SHE RUNS HARD BEHIND Gideon, confident that Henry’s right behind her, so when they get to some sort of structure, Gideon pushes through the door and pulls her in, she hesitates only when he pulls the glass door shut behind her.

  “Wait!” she says, slamming a palm on the closing door.

  “He’s too far behind,” Gideon says. “Don’t worry, we’ll still help him, but look!” He points down and what she sees makes her heart stop as she reels backwards. Hundreds of red snakes of various sizes converge at the bottom of the glass, trying to get in, trying to get to them.

  “How—How can we help him?” she yells. “He’s getting eaten alive by these—these things.” She remembers a snake in the Blue Dome, before she met Gideon’s strange granddaughters. Or rather what she thought was a snake. It turned out the twins had used some sort of virtual reality scene to trick her into walking into a compartment much like all the cabins that were strewn all over the dome. She thought an infant was in trouble in the enclosure, saw a snake like one of these ones, and was bitten before she could take the baby away to safety, but it was all merely a setup by the twins, and they’d brought her to their home.

  Now, she can see these snakes are all real, all very real, and some of them are probably eating Henry out there in the desert as she and Gideon stand impotent in here.

  But Gideon pulls out a small rectangle and speaks into it. “Henry,” he says, “can you hear me?”

  A small muffled sound emits from the machine, then Henry’s voice patches through. “I’m sorry,” he says as if he’s right there in the small room with them. “I fell. My leg couldn’t hold up any more and....”

  “Henry,” Gideon interrupts. “Are you safe? Did you deploy your bag in time?”

  “Yes.” A sigh of relief from Gideon as he looks out the glass enclosure.

  “Can you see it, Sidney?” he asks her.

  She stands on her tiptoes, but all she sees is red dust, swirling all over the air, so thick, she’d believe they were encased in a jar of liquid if she didn’t know any better. She shakes her head. Can’t see a thing.

  “Okay,” Gideon says into the machine. “Henry. There’s a small white panel in your suit. Should be about three inches long, on your right. Do you see it?”

  Another ruffle from Henry as he looks for the panel. “Yes.”

  “I want you to first press the yellow button on that panel, Henry. We’ll be able to see you then.”

  “Done.”

  Sidney keeps her eyes peeled on the outside and finally sees a pulsing blue dot, not twenty feet from where they stand. “I see it!” she says, “Right there!” She points at the spot to Gideon.

  “Good, good,” he says, with a wide smile. “Now Henry, press on the arrow pointing up. It should have you roll forward. It won’t be the most comfortable, but you should get to us in less than a minute. We’ll help you.”

  The lights start to move away when Gideon says, “Henry stop. Press the arrow pointing right.”

  As the flashing blue dot starts towards them, Sidney jumps on the spot, wanting to open the door but of course Gideon stops her and points down to the snakes waiting outside. Some of them slither over the others. Ten or so throw themselves at the glass as if to get at Sidney’s face, and she jumps back, her breath held.

  “We have to get rid of these things first,” Gideon says. “The only way is fire.” Speaking into his little machine again, he waits until Henry’s rolling compartment is ten feet away. Then he says, “Stop for a moment, Henry, we need to get rid of some uninvited guests first.”

  Gideon pulls out another creation—a thin piece of metal he holds up in the air as he instructs Sidney to move behind him. He stands between her and the door, swiftly opens it and presses a button, making the thing shoot out a thin stream of blue fire straight at the snakes in the dirt. Sidney’s sure that it’s just the wind she hears, surely not hundreds of little screams from the now burnt snakes. A handful of them manage to avoid the flame and slither faster than she expects straight into their compartment, and Sidney instinctively jumps on them, not looking too closely at the damage she’s causing, telling herself that if she doesn’t kill them, they will kill her, telling herself they’re poisonous snakes, not babies.

  Finally, Gideon says, “Done.” Then he speaks into his machine again, instructing Henry to roll even closer until they pull his form into the room, finally safe. Or so they hope.

  Chapter Forty

  Henry

  THEY SIT IN THE ENCLOSURE for several hours, chewing on dried protein bars and sipping water from their packs.

  Sidney’s ankle is sore again, he can tell as he watches her limp slightly, trying to stretch out her limbs after all that sitting in the wrecked car.

  He finally looks around him for the first time. The enclosure is made of glass on three sides, where they watch as the storm abates completely and finally stops. It can’t be more than twenty feet on either side The enclosure’s fourth wall is some kind of maroon brick. Why not solid glass like the other walls?

  They all keep an eye out for the adult Red Snake, the one that’s likely now out for revenge since they burnt hundreds of its children.

  “What is this place?” Henry asks.

  Gideon looks up from his protein bar and looks around them as if suddenly noticing where they are. “It was an old resting place,” he says. “Mid-domes, I guess. So weary travelers could rest, replenish their oxygen, use the facilities.”

  Doesn’t look like much for all that, Henry thinks—then he realizes this must just be an outer portion of it. He wonders why they’d bricked up the rest. Still, it’s good enough for what they need to do now, just to rest up in a safe-enough spot before deciding what they’d need to do to get the car working again.

  “Reckon I’d just need to have it back on its wheels,” Gideon says. “Unfortunately, that means we’d have to head out there again and I’m afraid the batteries on your pack were only good for that one roll here. Which means I’d need you to help me maneuver my way back to the car in my pack.”

  Sounds risky, Henry thinks. “And then what, once you get there?” he says. “It’s not like you’ll be able to work on the car while still in the pack. You’d have to come out of it.”

  “Well I’d have to rely on you to tell me when it’s safe to come out, won’t I?” Gideon says. “You’ll have to keep an eye out for the snake.”

  Not five minutes later, Henry heads out the glass enclosure with Gideon’s rolling form on his heels.

  Henry holds Gideon’s silver lighter-tool in his hand, reminding himself, “Switch to the middle for the mid-flame. Switch to the top to turn it off. Only switch to the bottom if the momma reptile shows up.” For that part can only be used once then the lighter is out of commission, per Gideon’s instructions.

  He has it off for now, only turning it to the lowest setting every time he sees a tiny snake move in closer. They’re almost exactly the same color of the earth, it’s difficult to catch them all. Still, all he needs is the path towards the car.

  Then Henry turns a corner and stills as he speaks into the mike in his mask. “I see her Gideon,” he whispers.
“She’s ten feet away, but I can’t see her head.”

  Gideon instructs him to go around the car where he can easily sneak into the car and close up the glass.

  The moment Henry does, he hears a warbling hiss behind him and turns just in time to see her head rise up above him. He drops the lighter as his heart attempts to jump out of his body. His hands shake so much but he has to look down and bend as he reaches for the lighter, switching it on as fast as his shaking fingers can handle.

  At the same moment, he hears a loud bang and a rip behind him but he doesn’t dare to take his eyes off the raising head of the serpent as she rises high above him again. He knows Gideon is somewhere behind him, probably struggling to get into the car.

  He has the lighter set on max now, and the blue flame shoots from it in a high arc, barely reaching her now striking head. He jumps back automatically though he knows he needs to be closer in order to reach her. So, as she brings her head down again, he jumps in closer, fighting the urge to close his eyes as she strikes. He knows he’s hit her though, the moment a plume of smoke hisses out of her left side, and a black-red liquid sputters and lands in the sand as her head sways to the left, the right, then left again. She lands, snout first to Henry’s left, and stills.

  He hears a gurgling behind him but doesn’t dare to look yet, in case it’s Gideon’s form dying in the sand. Also, he can’t convince himself that the serpent’s actually dead. He moves in closer, avoiding the pool of blood gushing out of her side and looks at her eyes, still open, staring into the sky. No movement, no life, he decides.

  Then he turns and groans as he watches the last of the water from the car seep into the ground. The snake’s arm-length fangs left a gaping hole in the container, ripped it across the side, and the dry Allendian red earth absorbs it like a sponge.