I am a space traveler. I am an excellent space traveler. So why the fuck is my craft spiraling out of control and I am desperately searching for a place to crash land on a planet I don’t even know? After many annoying gear shifts and jolts of jaw clenching turbulence, I successfully total my ship on a large containment crate and tumble from the cockpit like a crazy drunk driver stumbling from the wreckage of the 20 car pile-up she caused. Upon standing to survey my precarious situation, I am immediately annoyed. The land is dry and bleak; tumbleweeds roll across the open plains, propelled by the hot and suffocating air, brittle pine trees are clearly losing the struggle for nourishment as seen by the bed of dead needles under their empty branches, and every few moments the silence is broken by the sounds of tumbling rocks knocking against their neighbors as they careen off the embankments. I stand, fuming at the crappy region, when a cold chill slowly starts to creep over me, making my whole being shudder at its intensity. I am in grave danger. Despite its desolation, this planet should not be stumbled upon, for Big Brother is watching and outsiders are unwelcome; those found will be destroyed. SHIT!
So what the hell am I supposed to do!? I need to find a way off this god-forsaken planet before I am discovered. Too late. Advancing quickly through the ashen trees to the west is a squadron of government soldiers and their agenda is crystal clear – to decimate anyone and anything that does not belong. The big, burly, no-nonsense men lack any kind of emotion or individual thought, for they are powered by their masters’ will and can never stop or stray from their directive. I am fucked for I am no exception. I will be hunted to the ends of the world and I will be destroyed.
My reaction is instantaneous and instinctual. Propelled by the adrenalin pulsing through my veins, I leap from the crate and crash face first onto the hard-packed earth. Oblivious to the pain, I stagger to my feet and fight my way down the East embankment, catching my toes on rock edges and twisting my ankles on small pebbles blanketing the steep slope. Hoping I fled in time to escape detection I steal a quick glimpse over my shoulder and am immediately overwhelmed by a new wave of fear, for emerging through the trees is the government’s ultimate weapon of destruction, a sleek fighter jet. Aerodynamic, fast, and armed to the teeth with fire power, the machine becomes my new stalker; I have been spotted. I continue my stumbling sprint down the embankment and land on the bottom battered and bruised with my whole body scratched and torn from the hundreds of sharp rocks. As the adrenalin quickly fades I am faced with an unbearable sense of helplessness and despair. Fucking flight-or-fight instinct doesn’t provide any options when the initial reaction has run its course; I have nothing to fight with and nowhere to flee or hide. I am done for.
Thankfully, I am wrong and it appears fate has other plans for me. The moment I stagger to my feet they are pulled from under me and my body crashes violently to the ground and is callously dragged into a tiny underground drain. I feel as if I have been buried alive; the air is thick and heavily laced with dust and my limbs are pinned against the crude and course dirt walls. I breathe in sharp sporadic gasps; the force of the released air sends dust clouds spiraling in front of my face, blurring my vision; I am safe but still overcome with terror because I’m still being hunted.
How long my sanctuary will last is unknown; who or what brought me here is yet a greater mystery but, at the very least, I’m out of the open and somewhat hidden. As my breathing slows and my racing heart returns to its normal rhythm, I attempt to formulate my next plan of action because, clearly, I must keep moving to evade my pursuers. In my forced bondage of solitude I struggle to devise my escape route, but panic begins to set in; I have no fucking clue where I’ve been taken! Adding insult to injury, a giant black scorpion appears, like a dark omen predicting my death. The silent killer is intent on sharing my space with its impregnable evil and easily by-passes the wall of sand I made in hopes of blocking its entry. Scurrying to the end of the small enclosure, the venomous creature settles in as I struggle to find a way out.
Overwhelmed with fear I ignore every instinct telling me to stay put and stupidly peer out from the safety of the near invisible drainage opening. My detection is instantaneous. The moment my bright blonde hair catches the sunlight the reflecting gleam is spotted by the search party. I am such a fool! I desperately try to slink further back into my hole but am stopped by the presence of the scorpion – I am invading his home and will be punished if I infringe too far. Debating if I should make a run-for-it, I look up and am met by three sets of empty, glaring eyes.
Standing less than four feet away are three of the governments machine-like minions, each with a flame-thrower aimed at my panic stricken face. Goodbye universe.
NO! This is wrong! Deep within my being and scratching its way to the surface is an understanding that I am meant to do something great, something heroic even, that crashing on this planet wasn’t an accident but an act of fate. My fear is gone and is replaced by the overwhelming weight of guilt and tragic remorse. I have failed. The people of this severely repressed society will never be free. I feel empty, it’s as if my heart has been ripped out and my stomach punched in. At this point I welcome death so I close my eyes in surrender and await my painful, burning end.
But the end doesn’t come…
TO BE CONTINUED...
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