Thalia’s false accusation.
One problem at a time. Ian and I would be stuck on Mars together. Sooner or later I would get the truth out of him.
The air in the hallway freshened and the lighting grew brighter. “Jay, did something change?”
“We’re in a new part of the ship, I think.” He smoothed his palm along the wall. “The metal here is different. So shiny.”
“There are no doorways either.” God, I hoped we weren’t in a missile launch tube or garbage chute, about to be ejected into space.
“Wait here, don’t move. I want to mark our location.” Jay had been writing on the walls with a marker. So far, no one had caught on. Prior would stroke out, then scold us for defacing USI property. Not that I cared.
I watched Jay retreat. He blinked out of sight. Gone. Vanished.
“Jay!” I ran toward the area where he disappeared. A force wrenched me backwards. I turned fists up, ready to fight.
No one was there.
The bracelet flared to life. Colorful characters flashed across its gold surface. A dark space opened that, sure as heck, hadn’t been there two seconds earlier. A portal to who the hell knew where. My feet marched forward, my body no longer under my control.
“No!” The area was black as night. Everyone knows what happens to females who enter dark, scary rooms. So what if I was a vampire. I wasn’t stupid. I was alone and who knows where I might end up. Despite my efforts to stop my traitorous feet failed.
The opening grew, expanding towards me. Cold air rushed into my face, whipping back my hair. Oh God, not space!
The hole had better not lead to an outside airlock. Prior kept saying vampires were perfect space travelers, but I didn’t want to spend an eternity floating in space, eventually starving. A gaping maw, the portal enveloped me, swallowing me whole.
I’m not ashamed to admit it. I screamed. Loudly and with gusto.
The hard wind ceased. I blinked a few times. My fear was misplaced. Thank goodness. I was in an empty chamber. Dim lighting from an unseen source cast long shadows. As far as I could tell, there were no windows or doors. I was trapped.
I tapped the bracelet. “This is your fault. If I find a hammer, you’re coming off.” I momentarily contemplated sawing my hand off, then discarded the notion. Too painful and probably impossible to do to oneself unless in really dire circumstances. I wandered around testing the walls, finding no seams or crack.
“Great. There’s no way out of here. Where’s a hacksaw when you need one? I wonder if I could chew my hand off.” I gnashed my teeth.
The blasted bracelet buzzed, probably nervous. A faint humming emanated from somewhere in the room. The tune, tantalizingly familiar.
The music spiraled around the chamber. With each new note, a glowing rune appeared and floated in mid-air. Out of arms reach, they circled around me, appearing in various shapes and colors.
“Lovely,” I groused. “What’s the point? I don’t understand.”
The music grew louder. A rune flew toward my head. I dodged it. When I turned to evade a return strike, another one snuck up on me and landed on my neck. I slapped at my throat as if swatting a mosquito. A futile gesture. Instead of a sting, a comforting warmth filled my throat. The constant ache, the one that kept me from singing, eased and lifted.
I had always assumed I couldn’t sing anymore because I wouldn’t allow myself too. Now, a new possibility existed. The guilt and despair had physically hurt my body. A century is a long time to carry one’s sins. A new lightness filled my spirit. I hummed along with the tune, the vibration in my throat pleasant.
After another moment, I recognized the song— “Daisy Bell” otherwise known as “A bicycle built for two.” An oldie, even to my ears. The lyrics popped into my mind. With new found confidence, I sang.
The runes danced to my timing. The acoustics in the room amplified my voice, giving it the haunting quality Jonathan had loved
One problem at a time. Ian and I would be stuck on Mars together. Sooner or later I would get the truth out of him.
The air in the hallway freshened and the lighting grew brighter. “Jay, did something change?”
“We’re in a new part of the ship, I think.” He smoothed his palm along the wall. “The metal here is different. So shiny.”
“There are no doorways either.” God, I hoped we weren’t in a missile launch tube or garbage chute, about to be ejected into space.
“Wait here, don’t move. I want to mark our location.” Jay had been writing on the walls with a marker. So far, no one had caught on. Prior would stroke out, then scold us for defacing USI property. Not that I cared.
I watched Jay retreat. He blinked out of sight. Gone. Vanished.
“Jay!” I ran toward the area where he disappeared. A force wrenched me backwards. I turned fists up, ready to fight.
No one was there.
The bracelet flared to life. Colorful characters flashed across its gold surface. A dark space opened that, sure as heck, hadn’t been there two seconds earlier. A portal to who the hell knew where. My feet marched forward, my body no longer under my control.
“No!” The area was black as night. Everyone knows what happens to females who enter dark, scary rooms. So what if I was a vampire. I wasn’t stupid. I was alone and who knows where I might end up. Despite my efforts to stop my traitorous feet failed.
The opening grew, expanding towards me. Cold air rushed into my face, whipping back my hair. Oh God, not space!
The hole had better not lead to an outside airlock. Prior kept saying vampires were perfect space travelers, but I didn’t want to spend an eternity floating in space, eventually starving. A gaping maw, the portal enveloped me, swallowing me whole.
I’m not ashamed to admit it. I screamed. Loudly and with gusto.
The hard wind ceased. I blinked a few times. My fear was misplaced. Thank goodness. I was in an empty chamber. Dim lighting from an unseen source cast long shadows. As far as I could tell, there were no windows or doors. I was trapped.
I tapped the bracelet. “This is your fault. If I find a hammer, you’re coming off.” I momentarily contemplated sawing my hand off, then discarded the notion. Too painful and probably impossible to do to oneself unless in really dire circumstances. I wandered around testing the walls, finding no seams or crack.
“Great. There’s no way out of here. Where’s a hacksaw when you need one? I wonder if I could chew my hand off.” I gnashed my teeth.
The blasted bracelet buzzed, probably nervous. A faint humming emanated from somewhere in the room. The tune, tantalizingly familiar.
The music spiraled around the chamber. With each new note, a glowing rune appeared and floated in mid-air. Out of arms reach, they circled around me, appearing in various shapes and colors.
“Lovely,” I groused. “What’s the point? I don’t understand.”
The music grew louder. A rune flew toward my head. I dodged it. When I turned to evade a return strike, another one snuck up on me and landed on my neck. I slapped at my throat as if swatting a mosquito. A futile gesture. Instead of a sting, a comforting warmth filled my throat. The constant ache, the one that kept me from singing, eased and lifted.
I had always assumed I couldn’t sing anymore because I wouldn’t allow myself too. Now, a new possibility existed. The guilt and despair had physically hurt my body. A century is a long time to carry one’s sins. A new lightness filled my spirit. I hummed along with the tune, the vibration in my throat pleasant.
After another moment, I recognized the song— “Daisy Bell” otherwise known as “A bicycle built for two.” An oldie, even to my ears. The lyrics popped into my mind. With new found confidence, I sang.
The runes danced to my timing. The acoustics in the room amplified my voice, giving it the haunting quality Jonathan had loved
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