Precipice: The Beginning (6 page)

10

T
wo days in solitary was hard enough, but knowing there were twelve more days made him ill. Travis moved into a sitting position and rested against the wall. After a few hours of sitting in pure darkness you began to wonder if your eyes were open or closed. Either way there wasn’t a difference. Two weeks for a brief brawl may seem extreme to many, especially when compared to the penal systems back on Earth where prisoners were allowed to tear off limbs before intervention, but this was off-world. There were two forms of punishment for a direct violation of the rules. The first was a two to three week run in solitary. The second, for either being a repeat offender or by breaking the core rules such as rape and murder, was death. Not a simple injection like back home. Here they tossed you into the airlock and opened the outer door. Such a painful death they’d only had to administer once. A miner he’d never met before, some hothead little shit from New Jersey, got into an argument with a smaller man over something stupid. To end the argument, the moron had taken a food tray and slammed it into the other man’s face, sending bone fragments into his brain and killing him instantly. He swore up and down it had been an accident, and it probably was, but in an environment as dangerous as this they couldn’t afford any further incidents.

Travis subconsciously brought a hand to his neck as he remembered the look on the man’s face as they had opened the door. It took one minute for the man’s lungs to explode, but it had felt like an hour to Travis. Andrews had insisted that every man watch the punishment, to see how serious they took such matters. Travis wondered about Andrews’ real intent. Maybe a display of power over men more than twice his size, to make him feared amongst the workers. Travis didn’t really care what his motives were as long as he didn’t pull any further demonstrations. Travis shook the image from his mind, not wanting to replay the grotesque footage like a horror flick. There had to be a better memory to maul over, something when times had been slightly brighter than they were now.

Travis closed his eyes and leaned his head back, running through his life with Annie, the earlier memories, finding one that made him smile. Seeing her with long hair trailing out behind her as the wind ran through it, catching the sun every so often turning it golden. She’d been four months pregnant with their first child, Ethan. At least that would have been his name if he hadn’t been stillborn, but that was months away. This memory, with Travis driving the white convertible they’d rented and Annie with her round stomach in the passenger seat, was a good one. Something that even at this moment made him laugh out loud.

They’d been in their early twenties and were only married a few months. The original plan had been to marry in August, but the discovery of Ethan had moved the date up to April. Annie had been quite upset when she thought the wedding dress, the perfect wedding dress, wasn’t going to fit. But everything had worked out for the best. It was a beautiful day in April and they were on holiday, driving down the Virginia coast with their futures bright ahead of them.

“Honey?” Annie placed a hand to her mouth, looking shocked.

“What is it?”

“Pull over!”

Travis pulled onto the gravel shoulder and ran around the front of the car, opening the door for his wife. She took hold of his hand and scurried into the nearby brush, bending over the wildflowers to vomit. Travis thought absently that if they weren’t covered in puke, he would have loved to pick them for her. Too late for that now, but it still brought a cute idea to mind. He hurried over to his wife and knelt down behind her, rubbing her back in slow, circular motions.

“Oh that pizza kills,” Annie moaned as she took a seat in a patch of grass.

“Sure it wasn’t the whole bag of sunflower seeds? Or the popcorn…”

Annie pinched his stomach playfully. “When you have cravings then you can talk.”

Travis delicately maneuvered his hand through the damp wildflowers, hovering over them like a fickle bumblebee in search of that perfect flower. He found a dry one and plucked it, putting it behind her ear with a smile.

“There, now you look fantastic.” Travis held out his hands and connected his thumb and index fingers, looking through the square at his wife. “Aw, picture perfect. But I must say, next time you want some flowers you can simply point to them.”

“Maybe, but pregnant women mark things, like ravenous beasts!” Annie extended her arms while shaking her hands. “Now help me up, my butt’s asleep.”

Travis took hold of his wife’s hands and stood, pulling her to her feet. She dusted off her pants and was a bit caught off guard as he leaned in for a kiss. They held each other for a moment, locked in a long kiss with the sun shining down on them. Standing on the side of the road, their clothes lightly coated with dust and pollen, vomit on Annie’s shoes. This was a perfect moment. He’d give anything for another vomit tasting kiss.

Now Travis sat in a dark cell millions of miles from that road, from his Annie. He gave into the darkness slumbering within his heart and let the tears roll down his face. No shame is showing weakness when you’re locked inside a black room, cut off from everyone like a carrier of some deadly virus. He let himself go limp and slid down the wall, lying on his side with an absent sigh. Travis wondered if he was approaching day three and felt heartache as a horrible thought seeped into his mind. What if this was still day one? No way of knowing for sure. Not till they open that door to tell him he’s no longer in time out. He’d been given four meals, so that had to be two breakfasts and two dinners.

“Please be the second day,” Travis spoke, taking comfort in the sound of his own voice. Something other than just the dark silence, confirming that yes, he was still there.

11

“W
hat did he just say?” Andrews asked, leaning back in his office chair while aiming a dart.

“I don’t know. Couldn’t catch it,” Alvin lied. Alvin didn’t want to pass along the sad words Travis had muttered in despair. There was no enjoyment watching a proud man weeping on the floor of a dark cell, not for Alvin anyway.

“Problem is they treat this place like a fucking health spa.” Bowers took a seat on the table beside Alvin, leaning in to see Travis on the monitor. “Especially those military fucks.”

“Home office has no clue how dangerous it really is out here.” Andrews threw the dart and smiled with satisfaction as it hit the picture of Jesus square in the nose. “This place is hell.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Bowers laughed, cutting it off quickly as the expression on his superiors face showed annoyance.

“They give these men psychological evaluations every month. They can play pool and drink their little frozen drinks. Classical music on the overheads and pictures on the walls to remind us of summer days and springtime picnics. But it’s all a crock of shit.” Andrews stood from his chair and walked over to the dartboard, pulling the five darts delicately from the picture so as not to tear it. “All it takes is for one miner to go ape shit crazy. Just one.” Andrews held out his finger, waving it between them. “One son of a bitch goes insane up here and we’re all fucked. Mark my words gentlemen. We are all that stands between civilized conduct and complete anarchy.” Andrews took a seat, aiming his first dart.

“I think it’s more stable than that, sir.” Alvin turned from the monitor, crossing his arms about his chest.

“These men outnumber us thirty to one.” Andrews threw the dart, hitting Jesus in the wrist. “That’ll keep him on the cross!” Andrews let out a chuckle.

“I’m not worried. These men are here to work, plain and simple.”

“It’s a prison…plain and simple. Call it an “Off-world facility” or fucking Disneyland. A prison is a prison. Only we’re in general population with these common thugs.”

“These men aren’t inmates,” Alvin snapped.

“Are you deliberately trying to chap my ass today?” Andrews lowered the second dart and gave Alvin his full attention. “Three hundred of these bastards are here from the company to work, I’ll give you that. But what about your little buddy there and his men? These men are trained soldiers sent here on some deal with the company. They’re trained to kill. One of them decides to take us out and we’re all screwed.”

“There’s no point, sir,” Alvin explained. “There’s nothing to take over. Nowhere for them to go.”

Andrews threw his second dart and stood from the chair, standing beside Alvin to look down at the green video footage of Travis in his cell.

“You go ahead and trust them if you wish. But if it were up to me I’d have every man and woman on this red rock locked up for all hours of the day. Let out in a ten unit rotating squad for work detail, keeping them in the minority while we keep them in line.” Andrews’ eyes went glossy. “Watch them closely boys. Men can be like dogs if put in the right situation. Obedient, loyal. But when the chips are down and they feel threatened, you bet your balls they’ll turn on you. That’s why the company has issued such strict punishments. To keep these rabid beasts at bay. It’s our jobs to let them know that there is a presence here to watch over them, to judge them.” Andrews tapped his chest. “Out here, we’re God.”

“You bet your ass we are,” Bowers smiled, ear to ear with a dopey expression.

“Yes, sir.” Alvin spoke the words but didn’t agree. Andrews could carry on for hours with his little God trips and sense of superiority, but Alvin knew a good person when he saw one. Travis and his men were not cold-blooded killers. They were just in the wrong place at the wrong time and are now forced to suffer the consequences.

“Give him another week in there to think things over.” Andrews tapped the screen with a cruel smile. “That should make him think twice.”

“Yes, sir.” Alvin watched Andrews as he took a seat, tossing his darts at the picture of Jesus on the cross as if to show them that God didn’t exist out here. Andrews disagreed, strongly even, but he wasn’t about to open his mouth.

“Break their spirits.” Andrews aimed his fourth dart. “Before they revolt and break our faces.”

12

A
nnie sat up and pressed a startled hand to her chest, breathing hard. Her flesh damp from a warm sweat. Annie recognized her room through the darkness and settled a bit. It had been just another nightmare. She exhaled with annoyance and fell back onto the wet sheets. The moist fabric felt uncomfortable against the bare skin of her arms and neck, sticking like well-cooked spaghetti to a kitchen wall. Annie closed her eyes and took some controlling breaths. In and out, slowing the rate her chest rose.

Annie opened her heavy eyelids and looked to the clock mounted across the room—four fifteen in the morning. She shook her head with agitation and closed her eyes, trying desperately to fall back into the black abyss of sleep, but she couldn’t. There was no going back once she’d hit the three-hour mark. So once again, as was her morning routine since Travis had departed, she sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Exhaustion weighed heavy on her, dangling from her eyes and muscles like mountaineers desperately clinging for life. Not even after her fourth cup of coffee would she be able to shake them. Annie stood and shuffled toward the bathroom, stepping over piles of laundry she’d been meaning to get to, stacks of photo albums she’d put on her list to finish. Nothing seemed to get done anymore. Erica from next door often told her not to let the small things bother her. That little messes and junk filled drawers can be a good thing, creating little projects for her here and there to take her mind off things. Annie would have agreed if her house fluxed in between clean and dirty, but lately it had been a stalemate.

Annie let out a yelp as she stepped on the hairspray cap. She kicked the lid away and entered the bathroom, turning on the shower. Annie stayed for a moment, leaning into the shower to let the warming water drop to her hand. The warmth was such a comfort from the cold morning air. When so much of her life had gone cold, she learned to enjoy the few warm moments. That first moment when she would step outside and the sun’s rays rolled across her face, or the smell of the brewing coffee. Simple pleasures were hers. No court could take those away. Annie shook the daydreams from her head and closed the shower curtain, cursing softly at the damp carpet. Now she’d have to clean that before it began to mold. One more project added onto Annie’s distraction list. Not really wanting to, Annie undressed and faced the mirror, standing naked with a slight slouch. Tilting her head from side to side offered no comfort.

“You look like shit.” Annie frowned at the words she spoke, hating the tone. It was the voice of a beaten woman, not of the strong woman Travis had married.

Annie ran a hand down her smooth stomach, sucked in and held a breath as she turned to the side. There was a good three-pound weight gain since her last mirror assessment two weeks ago. Not a huge weight gain to most fat Americans, but Annie was a petite woman that showed every pound. A heavy sigh escaped her lips. This is what depression does. Whether she wanted to believe it or not, the signs had become quite clear. Gained weight, messy house, her usually high-maintained wardrobe replaced with the comfy robe and worn slippers; all pointed to depression. It took her from the high peak of happy normality and pushed her down, causing the tumble. And like a snowball, she had picked up weight, dark thoughts and clutter while racing uncontrollably, faster and faster. She knew that if she hit the bottom, it’d be too late.

Erica from next door likes to pep it up by saying her house kept her busy, but she was on the same mountain, falling just as fast if not faster from the weight of her denial. She and Erica were both military wives, only Erica’s husband had been killed in action two years ago. The thought sparked a deep sadness. Thinking of Travis six feet beneath the ground. Annie shook the negativity from her mind and stepped into the shower.

Twenty minutes later Annie had exited the shower, dressed in her comfy sweatshirt and black pajama bottoms and went downstairs to start the daily routine. She went into the kitchen and flipped on the small television, fumbling with panicked fingers to lower the volume as it burst into life. Her immediate reaction was to look up the stairs with her ear cocked toward Logie’s room, waiting for the inevitable thump as he hopped out of bed. There was no thump, just the sound of her breath and the morning anchorman on the channel five news. Annie opened the fridge and got the coffee beans, the expensive coffee beans. Probably the only luxury she afforded herself, but well worth the little extra. If it kept her going, how could she deny it? Annie ground the beans and allowed the television a slightly louder voice, turning the volume from level fourteen to a whopping eighteen.

“Very compelling.” Gregory Cunningham gave the camera his award-winning stare, shuffling papers as he prepared to move forward. Eyes sparkling as if they were filled with glitter. “Here are some clips from the last political rally in Washington D.C. with the third party candidate Manuel Marques of the Green Nation Alliance. Who as of this moment is the frontrunner in the polls.”

The image switched to a very handsome man, his face honest and caring. He wore a black suite with a green tie. “This country can no longer afford to pretend that our planet is not in need of assistance. Assistance from every man, woman and child. Earth doesn’t care if you’re black or white, rich or poor. This planet provides for us simply because that’s what it’s here to do. Mother us. Shelter us. Keep us breathing with the air given to us from its trees. But things have changed.” Manuel hit his hand on the podium, adding passion to his words. “Our latest environmental tests confirm that our ozone layer is all but gone, depleted by decades of harmful chemicals and pollutants. Our oceans have high levels of acidity never before seen in our lifetimes, making it toxic to the poor creatures that have no other home. The very soil we stand on is quaking beneath our feet from the mounds of trash and chemicals we bury every day.” Manuel took a brief pause, closing his eyes to let the emotion simmer within him. “A time for change is coming. A change that every American, no matter their lot in life, has the ability to get behind. We are a nation of thinkers and dreamers and it is time to become united, to put an end to the pollution today, so that our children will have a brighter future.” Manuel’s closing statement was barely audible over the explosion of applause.

Gregory Cunningham came back on the screen, his head slightly tilted to say, “yes, I understand and agree.” “We move to our top story. Massive earthquakes devastate Vienna and Hong Kong. Vienna experienced an eight point seven yesterday afternoon while three hours later Hong Kong was hit by an eight point four. Seismologists are baffled and offer no immediate explanation as no active faults run beneath either city. We’re going live to our European correspondent, Simon Chester, who is standing in the devastating aftermath of Vienna.”

“Yes, thank you Gregory.” Simon wore a thick coat and squinted against the heavy rain. “I’m standing in the heart of Vienna, across the street from the remains of the Vienna Opera House. Much of this ancient city is now shattered and broken in the wake of such an awful act of nature.”

The image changed to an overhead shot from a helicopter, giving the home audience the overall destruction of the once great city. Annie was taken aback by the damage. To see such a beautiful city known for music and romance reduced to rubble made her teary-eyed. The image changed to the classic news, jumbled footage of men and women running from a collapsing structure, people on the ground as they sheltered an injury. No one did human misery better than the news. But then the scene changed, showing something quite different, a four-mile crack in the earth on the outskirts of the city. The camera zoomed in on the opening and the screen went black, nothing visible within the long trench.

“A similar trench has formed two miles outside Hong Kong,” Simon said loudly, trying to be heard over a screaming woman in the background.

There was a loud thump above her, the unmistakable sound of little feet as they ran to the bathroom. Annie looked at the clock and couldn’t believe two hours had passed since her rude awakening. Logie would want his morning regiment of syrup with a hint of pancake. Annie grabbed the pancake mix from the pantry and began stirring, smiling at the typical morning sounds as Logan came down the stairs. Yawning, his hair sticking up in the most random way.

“Making pancakes,” Annie announced, speaking over her shoulder with a smile.

“Can I have a piece of cake?” Logan smiled, rubbing his fingers together greedily.

“Not for breakfast, pook.” Annie couldn’t keep the smile from her lips.

Logan gave her the usual dish of sass, looking down to the white tiles with a hangdog expression. “Cake!” Logan stomped.

“Why don’t you go in the other room and play with your toys?”

“Fine,” Logan moaned, suffering defeat as he turned away and headed off into the living room.

Annie set about making the pancakes, stirring the batter as she listened to her son playing on the floor behind her. Logan’s imagination was something she bragged about to Erica. Her son could come up with the most elaborate scenarios for his little toys, soldiers fighting on distant planets. Annie listened intently to the words her son spoke as he took on each individual character, one of them always being his father. It was such a relief to hear Logan always placing daddy as the heroin rather than the monster society saw him as. The last thing in the world she would ever want was for her son to believe the things those snooty bitches at his preschool said while pointing at them from across the lot. It was common knowledge why he was up there, but as always the truth had been widely edited and reworded before going to the papers. Travis needed them to believe in him, to love him.

“You need to come drink your milk.” Annie flipped the banana filled pancakes on a plate and carried it to the table. “Come on, we can’t be late this morning. Or did you forget that Buckaroo Bill is coming to your class today?” Annie’s eyes widened with childlike excitement to get her son into the spirit.

“He’s bringing a ton of ponies with him.” Logan took a seat, eagerly digging into his pancakes. “He has like two ponies.” Logan took a bite, smiling while bouncing his head from side to side. “And I get to ride them!”

Annie smiled, her depression temporarily overshadowed with the love of her child. Seeing his excitement over such a small thing reminded her of exactly why she needed to stay strong. Logan was her medication and she needed him every day.