Dead Space: A Short Story (6 page)

Slowly, Avery started donning the Sokol, all along while taking his oxygen mask on and off. 

“Houston, I think the fire is spreading and if I don’t move quickly, the Soyuz will be compromised.”

He waited for a response that he knew wasn’t coming.

“I will commence the procedures for landing,” then he took a long pause and said, “Houston, I sure hope the whole freaking cavalry is awaiting my arrival.” 

Avery was hoping that the search and rescue helicopters, members of the Kazakhstan armed forces, NASA staff, and even Bill Ingals, NASA’s photographer, would all be there to greet him and tell him what was going on.

“Be there,” he whispered.

He looked at the computer data, but since Houston was out of commission, the only Optimal Return Trajectory he had was that of a simulation they had done a week ago.

“Houston in the blind, I don’t have any updated data, so I’m going to pray and hope last week’s simulation would be enough. If all goes according to plan, I will be landing somewhere in Karaganda. Over.”

Avery detached the Soyuz hooks, which now pushed away from the doomed International Space Station. He looked at the station through the computer, thinking of Willmore and Samantha, thinking about the station itself, once the greatest achievement of humankind, now lost forever. All of his life he dreamt of being in space, and now, he couldn’t wait to get back to Earth, to Veronica.

“Houston in the blind, I’m doing my best to hang in there. If Veronica were here, she would tell me to keep going. She would tell me that I can do this.”

After a few minutes, Avery performed an engine burn, to renter the atmosphere.

“I can’t think straight, Veronica. I want to make it, but I don’t know what I’m doing. I think I might have decompression sickness.”

Avery kept coming in and out of consciousness. He didn’t feel the hammering sensation of the Soyuz separating into three parts, the orbital and instrument modules all waiting to be disintegrated along with the ISS in the nothingness of space. He didn’t feel gravity tugging at him, making his hands and head feel suddenly heavy. He didn’t feel the pull of the main parachute, or the expulsion of the frontal heat shield and the external window glass.

When he finally came to, Avery was only a few meters from touching the ground. He put his hands close to his body and buried himself in his seat as much as possible. It was easier now that gravity was part of his reality once more. Then, a loud bang. Avery felt like he had crashed into a huge semi-truck. Everything was shaking. Everything that was not securely fastened fell around him—helmets, space suits, water and food pouches—all fell. After a minute, there was complete silence.

He sat there for a couple of minutes, half awake, half delirious.

“I’m alive,” he whispered to himself. Then he began yelling, “I’m alive! I’m alive! My God, I’m alive!” He laughed, tears of joy and of terror.

He unfastened his seat belt and tried getting up, but his feet failed him. They felt heavy, foreign, as if they belonged to someone else’s body. He tried once again, and this time, he was able to regain some balance. He looked out the window, hoping to see the cavalry, but there was no one. Not a single soul.

“Houston?” he said, to no one, to everyone.

Exhausted, he sat in his chair looking at the window and then he saw them.

“Yes! Yes!” he yelled.

He got up once again and got closer to the window, his heart filled with joy. He was finally going home. Houston had probably retaken control of the Mission Command Center. He would have to give a full report to his superiors, but he would do nothing until he knew for sure that Veronica was safe. But then, Avery took a good look at the crowd he saw from afar. There were no helicopters, no hummers and no cameras. The people running toward him were running fast, too fast. They didn’t look natural. They were zombies.

The End

To be continued…

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NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR

Thank you so much for purchasing and reading this short story. I love telling stories and there’s so much more I want to do with Ryder Avery, but I need your help. I’m a father of two who works and goes to school full time. For now, writing is a hobby, but I’ve always dreamed of making it a profession.

So how can you help? If you love this story and want to see more of my work, please tell your friends to purchase
Dead Space
and also leave a review on Amazon. The more reviews this story gets, the more likely the Amazon algorithm will list me in its suggestion to readers who purchase similar books. Oh, and unless you put SPOILER ALERT on your review, try to refrain from mentioning the word “zombie.” Let’s not spoil the twist for the rest!

Thank you!