The Bridge: A Science Fiction Survival Story

Chapter 62

The wall bent inwards under Airomem's wrists like a blade of grass dipping under a wind, the suit stiffening from her fingertips to her ankles to apply the load. Her breath fogged on the metal in front of her as she pushed again, the end of her nose brushing against a shelf protruding from the wall, causing her neck to pull away backwards away from the surface at an odd angle. It was an uncomfortable motion, but a necessary one. The cut had to be made here.

The incision itself was like the others she had made, but this time, she had left the bottom of the cutaway intact, such that she could fold the metal upon itself. And as it yielded, the edges grated together like gnashing teeth, releasing a shriek that sent shivers up Airomem's spine and a flinch to flutter across her face.

"Tom thought you wanted quiet," came a voice from behind her, and she grimaced.

"I did," she said and shuffled to her left. "New plan. Help me push!"

Tom's hands appeared alongside her own and the shriek doubled in volume, his grunting doing little to drown it out until a two-foot-wide gap appeared and a head emerged from within.

"Ruth!?" shouted Hannah, reaching a hand through to grasp Airomem's forearm. "Ruth and Elliott, are they safe?"

"They are," Airomem reassured, the words tumbling out of her mouth as fast as possible, "but you are not. Hurry, come through; we're getting you out of here."

"It seems every time I turn around," I mumbled from within, my head shaking as my eyes traced along the incision, "that another impossibility becomes reality. Airomem, how did you do this?"

"Details later, details later," she said, waving her arms forward as Hannah started to step through the hole, her movements slowed due to the constricted space. "Move!"

Airomem's head was turned sideways, her ear cocked through the hole, listening as she held her breath. And there, muted but approaching, was Nean, just as Hannah tumbled into the room.

Then it was my turn to jump through the hole, and our turn to flee.