Revive

-Three-

"This is Anastasia Orlova, requesting permission for the take-off of pod#12." "Comms in check, then. Permission granted." Came the remorseful reply of Sharon through the in-built microphone of my space suit. The pod dived into the atmosphere, there was a low humming noise in it as it burned its way to re-entry. On reaching a steady altitude I looked at the crumpled paper, smoothed and cello-taped to the glass pane. It read, "55.7558'N and 37.6173'E". "Russia," I muttered. I punched in the coordinates to the navigation system and in a matter of minutes, the aircraft hovered to a stop. I climbed out and floated about for a few moments before my feet finally landed on the ground. Looking around, I noticed that the ruins of demolished buildings were everywhere. Corpses littered the streets as the aftermath of a disaster. I gagged at the sight but proceeded to venture, searching for anything similar-looking to a laboratory. Hours ticked by, and the sun peeked from the horizon. When an alert notification pinged to show that there was only 20% oxygen left in my tank, I started to panic. At long last, I noticed a building surprisingly in top form, which stood out from the debris surrounding it. I trudged towards it. The gate was locked with a keypad attached to it. "A six-digit code, what could it be?" I wondered. After numerous failed attempts of random combinations, I realised that I had the password. Engraved on my skin, 151815. It was an alphanumeric code for 'ORO'. "Childish," I muttered, my lightheadedness getting to me. The door clicked open and I walked in. The sensory lights turned on and I walked unsteadily inside. Locating the main lab on a map on the floor, I rushed over, tripping on my feet multiple times while doing so. Everything started to blur in and out of focus. Memories started to sway dreamily in my eyes, clouding my vision. As I staggered and rummaged through the drawers of the various desks, I saw the blur of a little red-headed boy crying and hugging me, while I held him tight as he clutched his bleeding knee. He looked up to meet my eyes, swollen from crying but shining an unmistakable bright cobalt. I shook the memory away with a violent jerk of my head. "Warning, O2 levels extremely low. 5% remaining. Return to pod immediately. Warning." A mechanic voice echoed in my ears. I stumbled through various bottles. There had to be a solution. There had to. As I crawled and dragged my heavy body towards the next drawer, my vision lurched and his last words to me rang in my ears, "Promise me you'll come back. I can't lose you too." "Don't worry, the thought of you taking my place as captain if I don't come back is enough reason for me to come running back." I grinned and ruffled his hair as he scowled at me. I flung open the last cabinet and saw it. A test tube, corked shut, with a luminous cyan liquid, labelled, "Test subject No.21D, successful". I fumbled at the screen on the sleeve of my suit. "Sending current location to ship 625C," the same robotic voice rang.

I fumbled with the hatch of my helmet. My mind was foggy, but my thoughts, clear. If I had been truly successful, I would survive. The helmet clicked open. My insides ached and my lungs burned, every cell in my body was on fire. I choked and coughed as my ribcage constricted. But slowly, everything steadied and I breathed deeply. For the first time in my life, I could truly breathe. Even the direct sunlight entering through the open window felt like a warm hug to my bare face. So there I lay, on the cluttered floor, with the test tube tightly held in my gloved hand. I had no clue what the future would hold, but I have done my part. The only things that mattered were that I kept my promise and there was hope. There is hope.