“Chief is back there, somewhere, I don’t know, just let me go, we’ve got to get out of here!”
Patrick snatched the respirator. The boy stumbled down the corridor the way Patrick had come. At least now, he had a respirator. He adjusted it in position, ensuring it covered his nose and mouth and sealed it.
His eyes would have to endure.
As he moved deeper into the engineering section, he could hear screams, shouting, and some whimpering. He tried to focus on particular voices. He needed to find the Chief. The heat burned his eyes and blurred his vision.
He squinted through the haze as he followed the sounds of arguing from a large group. He approached and saw Aaron with the Chief. He’s alive. Relief washed over him and he felt a pang of guilt, knowing others hadn’t been so fortunate.
“Aaron!”
“Dad!”
Another bear hug. Tighter this time. He turned to the Chief.
“What’s the situation?”
They were all shouting above the noise.
“Containment in the number two reactor must have developed a crack somehow. If it had really blown, we wouldn’t be standing here. The crack self-sealed with emergency systems, but not before some of the reaction got out and exploded across quarter of the section. Fire suppression systems couldn’t contain the plasma fires and were quickly neutralized themselves. Just before you got here, we had it contained to these sections. But another blast compromised the rest of that section and who you see in here is who is left!”
He looked around. Men were dragging bodies out of the section, some probably lifeless, others near there. There were still dozens of men scattered throughout trying to contain the blaze.
Patrick knew there was only one option now.
“Chief! Evacuate this entire section now! We will decompress the deck!”
“Pat, that might be a problem. With the structural integrity compromised here, we risk blowing off this entire section of the ship, you know—it’s attached to the engines!”
“It’s either that or we lose the entire ship, Chief! Evacuate now, get everyone out. Prepare to decompress the entire section. Aaron, help get these men out of here, then get as far away from this section as you can.”
“Dad, let me stay with you I can help—”
“Now, son! The Chief and I can handle what needs to be done. We need to get these wounded out of here as fast as possible or they’ll be left behind. Go now.”
It seemed Aaron was about to protest further. But he turned and went to help the others carry the wounded out of the section.
A few minutes later, he and the Chief had prepared to decompress the deck, and all those they could account for or see were hauled out of the section. He nodded to the Chief who sealed off the section with its normal bulkhead and an emergency blast door. They were ready.
As he was about to order everyone behind the other emergency blast door beyond the corridor, the comm panel next to the secondary blast door buzzed. It had a small screen on it. Someone appearing on the emergency comm panel could only mean one thing; they were on the other side.
He gasped when he saw the image.
Anna!
“Pat! What’s going on? Why have the blast doors been sealed?”
“Anna, why are you in there! We—”
“I responded to the first emergency. I was helping to treat the wounded. We’d just stabilized them and they were ready to move. I must have blacked out in the rear section.” Her voice was raspy, she was breathing hard, somehow she’d either lost her respirator or she never had one. Her face was a black mess of soot. She wheezed heavily with every breath.
“Anna . . . the emergency blast doors are down, they can’t be raised once triggered. How, why . . .” His voice trailed off as he fractured his wrist hammering the blast door. There was no pain. Only a hole in his chest.
“Patrick,” she coughed. “Aaron . . . is he safe?” Tears streamed down her cheeks, leaving black streaks.
Someone pushed him aside.
“Mom! It’s me! I—I’m here. I’m safe, mom.” No reply. “Mom!”
She coughed heavily, she was suffocating.
“Aaron,” she wheezed. “I love you, son. Take care of your father. You know how stubborn he can be. Oh how I love you both. Pat, I—”
“Anna, I’m here. I’m so sorry, Anna, all the known deit—”
He couldn’t leave her, but how could he watch. How could he watch as she slowly suffocated, and the thick smoke burned her lungs? The heat must be unbearable now. Slowly cooking her.
She held up a pressure injector. “It’ll induce a coma. I’m going to inject myself. I won’t suffer. I love you both.” She put two fingers to her lips and pressed them against the screen.
The screen dissolved to static. She was gone.
Forever.
Something shook him. Violently.
“Dad! We have to do something! Mom’s right there, right on the other side!”
Patrick’s mind was a cloud.
“Dad!” Aaron sagged to the deck whimpering.
Patrick gripped his son and dragged him to the others waiting beyond the secondary blast doors. The boy kicked and screamed all the way. “Hold him!” he shouted to the others. They did.
Patrick ran back to the emergency bulkhead. There was a way to raise the blast door once triggered. The designers created the almost forgotten procedure in case a malfunction triggered the blast door. Now he would use that to trigger the opening, playing with the lives of everyone aboard for selfish reasons.
He ripped the panel off the controls and tapped a few commands into the secondary interface convincing the door it was malfunctioning. He disabled the sensors which triggered the blast doors. The bulkhead started to rise and then stopped.
“Anna!”
There was no answer. The bulkhead groaned. It only opened about twenty inches. Then it began to drop again. He slid under the door with his hard suit legs and jammed it. He craned his neck over as he lay on his back, his face red and screamed. “Somebody help me!”
No one moved. Then Aaron broke free of the men holding him. He dashed forward and slid on the deck and under the bulkhead. A few seconds later Aaron crawled out. His son then reached under the bulkhead and dragged a pair of legs. Patrick groaned at the increasing pressure on his legs. He leaned forward and helped drag one of Anna’s legs. Aaron leaned over and pulled her clear of the bulkhead.
“Quickly, Aaron! Pull the override and kill the bulkhead’s power.”
The blast door had jammed and the mechanism held it in place. It wouldn’t budge. Releasing the override would release the door’s mechanism and let its weight fall. The armored suit leggings wouldn’t resist the weight of the bulkhead.
Aaron pleaded. “Dad . . .”
“Do it now, Aaron!”
Aaron reached up and with a deep breath yanked the red lever down. The bulkhead mechanism released and the blast doors severed Patrick’s legs above the knees. It was the weirdest sensation he ever felt. A brief moment of sharp pain and then nothing. Someone dragged him from behind leaving a trail of blood on the deck. He watched as Aaron held Anna under the arms and dragged her beyond the secondary blast door.
The Chief slapped the control and the secondary bulkhead lowered. Seconds later a steady vibration reverberated throughout the ship. A deep rumble came from the bulkheads and overhead. Secondary explosions.
The ship lurched and threw him hard against a bulkhead. The lash to his head formed stars in his vision.
Then only darkness.
Chapter 8 – Journey to Rigel