OUT OF MIND² ━━ Bellamy Blake

𝐗𝐗𝐕𝐈𝐈: Distress

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DISTRESS

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THE HUMAN LIFE is made up of choices. Wrong or right, in or out, black or white, up or down. Easy choices.

And then there are the hard ones. The choices that matter. To love or hate. To be a hero or a monster. To fight or to give in.

To live or die.

     You can guess where Lyra's going with this.

      "Stage 2 reentry in 5, 4. . . "

      The entire rocket shudders. Lyra's chest inflated with great force and she is half-convinced that her skeleton is going to burst from her skin in fright. The cockpit of the rocket is small and carved from the same frigid white's of Becca's labs, but that does little to stop Lyra from feeling as if she is overheating. Beads of sweat gather across her forehead. A droplet rolls down the back of her neck; her hair gathered in its usual high ponytail. Her fingers pick at her nails as the flight recorder brings up a terrifying image of the rocket reentering through the atmosphere.

     Raven looks nauseas. "Oh, God."

     "3, 2. . . "

     Come on," Raven encourages the rocket. "You can do this."

     "Maybe the first 26 times were a warm-up," suggests Lyra in a strained voice. "Maybe we'll get lucky on the 27 time — "

     "Main booster engaged," continues the vaguely male AI voice coolly above the noise. "Fuel levels critical and dropping fast."

     So much for the 27nth time.

     Raven's face falls. "No, no, no. . . "

     The computer becomes more insistent and alarmed. A red light flares up and flashes erratically. "Warning! Warning!"

     "Come on!" Raven shouts above the chaos.

      "We'll make it!" Lyra yells at the top of her lungs, as if somehow making herself louder than the rocket means she'll win this time. "We're almost there! We can do it — !"

     "Brace for impact," warns the computer.

     "No!" Raven yells.

     "Fuck," mumbles Lyra. She squeezes her eyes shut.

     Red as blood, warning lights flash erratically. Alarms screech as the entire rocket shudders violently.

     Then, all at once, everything stills.

     The ship is dark for a fraction of a second. Lyra delicately opens one eye and sees her reflection in the black of the monitor. She is sprawling across her seat in an ungracefully heap, her entire body quivering from exertion. Sweat trickles down her face in a way that makes it almost look like tears. There is a distant ringing in her ears.