mother’s suit with her fingertips.
Daryl’s body was limp. His cheeks were swollen, bubbles escaping his pursed lips. Lucina pushed off from the wall again, trying to follow us. I saw the lamp that my mother had given her spinning from her hands.
Their shapes were becoming indistinct now. There was more water between us.
Another impact hit the tank, sent the water into agitated disarray.
My mother pushed off again. My lungs burnt like they were filled with nitrogen – and I resisted taking on another mouthful of water.
I’m going to drown in here! Get me out!
I looked back the way we had come – the entrance hatch now a dot of light at the roof of the tank. I was sure that I could see shapes down there, could see
things
in here with us.
Daryl and Lucina were dwindling.
You’re going the wrong way!
I wanted to scream.
Follow us!
But then I was swallowing water, and I wasn’t sure that I was going to make it either.
I’d broken Rule Five: never think about what put you in here.
The city lights flew past in a blur, becoming ribbons of colour.
“Brace for impact,” the car computer repeated. “Take immediate evasive manoeuvre.”
Words flashed on the inside of the car window. At this speed, they were a threat more than a warning.
“We’re going over the edge!” I shouted. My voice was slowed, drunk, tinged with a hint of amusement, simply because
this cannot really be happening to Kendra and me…
But it was.
The car plunged off the overpass. Moving faster and faster. Something hit the safety barrier, scraping hard against the underside of the car. That was enough to send the vehicle into a spin.
“Shit!” Kendra screamed.
Suddenly Kendra wasn’t drunk any more. Suddenly she was deathly sober, and what had started as a joyride in someone else’s car had become something much, much worse.
Nose-down, the air-car sailed off the highway. The gravitic motor whined like a hurt animal.
Air-cars are supposed to stay upright,
I told myself. The fleeting thought occurred to me that the anti-grav engine module should somehow keep us airborne.
Kendra was still screaming as the vehicle hit the water. It produced an enormous, percussive slap. Despite the safety belts, we were both thrown to the ceiling of the car. The collected detritus of someone else’s life hit the roof with us. Drinks bottles and empty cans bounced around inside the cabin, sailed past me. I hit my head hard enough that I had to fight off encroaching blackness.
Now, any sense of enjoyment was gone.
Now I knew that this was a life-changing moment. That unless Kendra and I acted, we were both dead.
“Get me out of here!” Kendra shouted. Shrill, piercing, achingly desperate. “Get me out!”
Inexplicably, she was speaking Standard. We never spoke Standard to each other. She was scrambling with her safety belt, jabbing a finger at the release button –
“
Brace for impact. Take immediate evasive manoeuvre.
”
The belts were supposed to be a safety measure – an automatic response by the car to an impending collision. Now they were a death sentence.
The car was a big, heavy vehicle: a Hyundai-Dashuti sedan model. As soon as it hit the water, it started to sink. The engine was roaring and our centre of gravity shifted as it tried to establish balance. Perhaps that made us go down faster or maybe it was just chance. The water outside was a filthy green – full of rotted plant matter and trash. I couldn’t see through it; couldn’t see how deep we were sinking.
No stars.
My ears were popping now, and with unresponsive fingers I too was grasping at my safety belt.
Why isn’t it opening?
The window next to Kendra began to noisily and dramatically crack. She was screaming so loudly that I could barely think.
Not Kendra. Not my little sister.
Water began to invade the car through the cracked glass – a fine spray, drenching the side of her face, plastering her short hair to her skull.
“Help me, Taniya! Get me out of
Daryl’s body was limp. His cheeks were swollen, bubbles escaping his pursed lips. Lucina pushed off from the wall again, trying to follow us. I saw the lamp that my mother had given her spinning from her hands.
Their shapes were becoming indistinct now. There was more water between us.
Another impact hit the tank, sent the water into agitated disarray.
My mother pushed off again. My lungs burnt like they were filled with nitrogen – and I resisted taking on another mouthful of water.
I’m going to drown in here! Get me out!
I looked back the way we had come – the entrance hatch now a dot of light at the roof of the tank. I was sure that I could see shapes down there, could see
things
in here with us.
Daryl and Lucina were dwindling.
You’re going the wrong way!
I wanted to scream.
Follow us!
But then I was swallowing water, and I wasn’t sure that I was going to make it either.
I’d broken Rule Five: never think about what put you in here.
The city lights flew past in a blur, becoming ribbons of colour.
“Brace for impact,” the car computer repeated. “Take immediate evasive manoeuvre.”
Words flashed on the inside of the car window. At this speed, they were a threat more than a warning.
“We’re going over the edge!” I shouted. My voice was slowed, drunk, tinged with a hint of amusement, simply because
this cannot really be happening to Kendra and me…
But it was.
The car plunged off the overpass. Moving faster and faster. Something hit the safety barrier, scraping hard against the underside of the car. That was enough to send the vehicle into a spin.
“Shit!” Kendra screamed.
Suddenly Kendra wasn’t drunk any more. Suddenly she was deathly sober, and what had started as a joyride in someone else’s car had become something much, much worse.
Nose-down, the air-car sailed off the highway. The gravitic motor whined like a hurt animal.
Air-cars are supposed to stay upright,
I told myself. The fleeting thought occurred to me that the anti-grav engine module should somehow keep us airborne.
Kendra was still screaming as the vehicle hit the water. It produced an enormous, percussive slap. Despite the safety belts, we were both thrown to the ceiling of the car. The collected detritus of someone else’s life hit the roof with us. Drinks bottles and empty cans bounced around inside the cabin, sailed past me. I hit my head hard enough that I had to fight off encroaching blackness.
Now, any sense of enjoyment was gone.
Now I knew that this was a life-changing moment. That unless Kendra and I acted, we were both dead.
“Get me out of here!” Kendra shouted. Shrill, piercing, achingly desperate. “Get me out!”
Inexplicably, she was speaking Standard. We never spoke Standard to each other. She was scrambling with her safety belt, jabbing a finger at the release button –
“
Brace for impact. Take immediate evasive manoeuvre.
”
The belts were supposed to be a safety measure – an automatic response by the car to an impending collision. Now they were a death sentence.
The car was a big, heavy vehicle: a Hyundai-Dashuti sedan model. As soon as it hit the water, it started to sink. The engine was roaring and our centre of gravity shifted as it tried to establish balance. Perhaps that made us go down faster or maybe it was just chance. The water outside was a filthy green – full of rotted plant matter and trash. I couldn’t see through it; couldn’t see how deep we were sinking.
No stars.
My ears were popping now, and with unresponsive fingers I too was grasping at my safety belt.
Why isn’t it opening?
The window next to Kendra began to noisily and dramatically crack. She was screaming so loudly that I could barely think.
Not Kendra. Not my little sister.
Water began to invade the car through the cracked glass – a fine spray, drenching the side of her face, plastering her short hair to her skull.
“Help me, Taniya! Get me out of
Similar Books
