*
An hour later, Barsch had almost made it to the Station’s location. A massive set of cliffs, with a narrow opening between them was the landmark he had been searching for. Since leaving the pool his coughing had only gotten worse, and now his vision had begun to darken.
He held Kingston’s knife loosely at his side, still wary of any more dangers that might be lurking about. The path through the cliffs was small and snaked its way into the cliffside. Barsch could still remember how nervous he had been when he had first walked along it, clutching to his father’s coat to prevent being separated by the throng of people behind them. Even now, with no one to push him from behind or shout obscenities at his slowness, he still felt uneasy.
Following the path, he made his way towards the Station’s hidden entrance. It had been constructed here for several reasons, but the most obvious was the natural protection the cliffs offered from the ever-encroaching pollution. More than once he had to stop and grab the cliff-face to stop himself from falling, coughing as he did so.
Even without being told, he knew that his body was shutting down. The polluted air filled his lungs with fire, and sent his system into chaos. If he did not reach the Station soon, if he did not pass through the decontamination chamber and reach the protected hallways, he might fall here, and never arise again.
And then, without warning, his journey ended.
The path suddenly widened, ending in a rocky cul-de-sac with an out of place set of steel doors at the apex. They were as massive as Barsch remembered, dwarfing him with their enormity. They had been built into the cliffside, taking full advantage of the natural harbour. Above them, inscribed on a rust-proof metal plaque, were the words, “WELCOME TO GENESIS STATION 13. SAFETY LIES WITHIN” Another bout of coughing told him to stop admiring the structure and move on, so he did so. He approached the doors, knowing that he would have to find the door switch if he wanted to enter.
He thought back to what he had seen that day, as they had walked through the then open doors. He remembered one of the scientists standing beside the entrance, speaking into a small indentation. There, where the scientist had once stood, was a rather strangely shaped piece of stone. Barsch laid his hand on it, as he had seen the man do so all those years ago, and to his delight, it moved. The stone slid back into a recessed groove, revealing a small, dark screen, roughly the size of his hand. A moment later, green text filled the screen, which read, “Please place palm on screen.”
Shrugging, he did so, and waited for something to happen. Almost immediately, a computerized voice rang out from a small speaker below the screen. “Human handprint confirmed. Access Denied.”
“What? Why?” cried Barsch in shock.
“Genesis Station 13 has been placed in emergency lockdown, all exits have been sealed until further notice.”
“No! You have to let me in! I’m one of the residents, HUM-7728, remember?”
“Checking… checking… check complete. HUM-7728 has been logged as deceased, therefore, you cannot be who you say you are. If you do not leave the premises immediately, you will be logged as a threat.”
“I don’t care what you say, I’m coming in!” Barsch screamed, growing increasingly frustrated with the emotionless voice. Stepping back, he brought his fist down on the steel doors, which did little except make Barsch’s hand hurt.
“Very well. Activating intrusion prevention mechanisms. Automated defences coming online. Arming anti-personnel lasers and GAMP proximity mines one through twenty in ten, nine-
Cursing loudly, Barsch stepped back, anger and frustration blinding him as to how much danger he was in. There was nothing more he could do but run, as the cold voice from the screen continued its malicious countdown. He ran from the doors without looking back, crashing into the cliffside in his haste to escape the danger. And as he ran, the pain in his chest grew, seemingly with every step. In mere minutes he was gasping for air, his constricted airways unable to deal with the sudden increase in demand.
Even with everything that was happening, some part of him remained aware of the other, hidden danger he faced. His body was already entering the first stages of shutdown, and it would not be long before his strained heart gave out. He had read about cases where men and women had stayed out too long in the pollution, and when they returned to their towns, they would open their mouths and die on the spot.
In each case, the cause of death was the same: complete cardiovascular failure due to extreme levels of stress and over taxation of the respiratory system. In short, their hearts simply stopped beating, as their bodies were driven to exhaustion by the pollution.
However, even knowing this, there was little Barsch could do. The only hope he had lay in Kingston’s hut, and it had taken him hours to get to the Station from there. But something within Barsch refused to break. Something within him refused to just stop and die. It was the same thing that had saved him from the Bile Seeker, and the same thing which had forced him off that barren hill. It was hope, and it was stronger than anything the world could throw at him.
And so, lungs burning and vision blurring, Barsch ran. He ran past the pool where the Bile Seeker still lay. He ran past the glade where the girl had changed his world. He ran past tree after tree at an unbelievable speed. If he had been less preoccupied he would have marvelled at how his sickly body could move so fast, but at the time, he was just thankful it moved at all.
His heart was on fire by the time he entered the home stretch, where the trees began to finally look familiar. He was mere minutes from Kingston’s hut… from salvation. A few more minutes, a few more seconds, and he would be safe. Kingston would do something, Kingston would know how to save him…
As he cleared the last stand of trees and caught a glimpse of the out of place thatch roof, Barsch ran out of time. His heart, already pushed to its limit, gave one final thump. He stumbled forward, knowing in his blood-starved brain that he had failed, that he was going to die there, so close to salvation. Reaching towards the heavens, he cried out in a strangled voice, cursing the gods who had given him such false hope. And then he fell, arms still outstretched, towards the cold ground.
But, to his everlasting amazement, something stopped his fall. Looking down, he saw what had gotten in his way: Kingston’s electric fence, which had been turned on in his absence.
“Oh…” was all he could manage, before ten-thousand volts coursed through his limp body. The burning in his lungs was immediately replaced by the burning of everything else, as his mouth opened for a scream that never came. His last thoughts, before the great darkness took him, were, “Kingston… I’m sorry…”
Awakening Page 24