The Jump

Chapter 1: Atmosphere

Layla had never seen anything so terribly beautiful in all her 25 years. Absolutely nothing. Granted, no one could have predicted the entire atmosphere collapsing in on itself, but here it was. Front and center. The sky rippling under the effects of the time loop created about 5 million miles to the north of Jupiter. Scientists had tried to calm down everyone, saying it was much too far to really affect Earth. Hell, it really hadn't even touched Jupiter either. But it was nearly impossible for us to predict a twin loop opening just outside of the moon. A hole that was twice the size of the moon itself. A real passageway through time. Infinite space, serious dimensions. And one breaking through at that very moment to suck the life right out of our little planet Earth. 

No hope was on that horizon but utter chaos and unbreathable air. That is, there was no hope on the horizon, but one hope resting in the hands of a socially awkward, depressed, and chronically anxious adult. One key. One mynute little piece of science. I had just under 10 minutes, and my solar-powered skates were flying with what sunlight was left streaking through the diminishing ozone. I flew on top of the metal framework of the track, which was vibrating so intensely that I had to clench my jaws like they were made out of steel. My legs were seriously complaining as I stayed utterly locked in a crouched position. The jump was coming, and I knew it by the curving of the rails climbing higher and higher. My helmet was providing some oxygen through a breathing tube, and my visor projected laylines into my vision for where I needed to aim my jump. This was it. All my practices with the team felt so inept. How could I seriously make this? The key wasn't even a set solution, but it was all we had. I could feel the magnets on the rails loosening their grip and the winds from outside the tubular enclosure started to shake my stance. 

Just as I was about to lose my focus, it appeared like an apparition. The arch was modeled after the Arc de Triomphe in France and rose as a beacon on my scope, the laylines converging in its center. On queue, static rumbled up into my ears.

"You ready Star?" Mack's sure voice asked almost reverently. "You already know, but we have this one shot and you have to make sure you're going at the angle of 73 degrees. Don't shoot over or under." 

"Of course, we went over this more times than I like." I responded, trying to contain my annoyance. Now wasn't the time, and Mack was all I had left. Regardless of our past, I still felt the tug on my heart. This may be the last time for us. "Mack..." My whisper died off as the smooth voice of the operator counted down from 30 and I braced for the full release of the magnets. 

"Star, you've always been my number one. Always. Let's leave it there." The static roared loudly and Mack's remaining sentence cut out. 

"18, 16, 15, 14, 13..." 

"Kk Siri, I gotcha. Brace for release" I muttered. I tapped my knuckles together twice and my gravity bracelets lit up, my safety vest responding in a comforting embrace. 

"6, 5, 4, 3..." Here I go. A literal cliche of the last hope for humanity. Sort of a dumbass cliche that I'd rather not go out as but, oh well. It happens.