SpaceMan: A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller (The SpaceMan Chronicles Book 1) Page 15

  Still, he was short of breath. His vision was better, but not clearly focused.

  He blinked rapidly. It didn’t help.

  Then he felt it.

  The pressure. It was building again in his ears and beneath his eyes.

  He looked at the monitor, nosing closer to the display. It was stalled at eleven minutes. The pressure indicator wasn’t moving.

  He popped his ears. Immediately the thickness returned. He hadn’t fixed it. The leak was in the Russian module.

  He was running out of time to find it and fix it.

  He took a bungee strap from the wall and looped it through the case’s handle. Then he found the patch kit next to the spot on the wall where he’d found the ultrasonic case.

  He pulled the strap through the handle of the patch kit and then wound the bungee around his waist like a belt. He pulled it taut and ushered himself back to the airlock.

  Clayton didn’t know how much time he had. He needed to get his crewmates into the Soyuz.

  He pulled Boris first, clumsily dragging him through the module until he carefully maneuvered the Russian’s body through the orbital capsule and into the crew capsule. The cases strapped at his waist kept Clayton from fully entering the crew capsule. He left Boris in there floating; he’d strap him in later.

  His heart beat against his chest, hard and fast enough that Clayton thought he could hear it behind the expanding wall of pressure in his ears. He tried breathing evenly, but it was nearly impossible. He quickly floated back to the airlock to retrieve Ben’s body.

  He pulled his friend from the airlock and then spun to move the short distance to the Soyuz. He was pushing Ben from behind, moving his body closer to the Soyuz and a trip home. As he neared the hatch, he stopped moving. There was something tugging at him and drawing him backward.

  Clayton looked over his shoulder and saw the patch case was caught against a module wall. He popped his ears and tried focusing on the bungee. He didn’t have time to go back and free the case. He made the snap, not altogether clearheaded decision to lose the bungee. He fumbled with the strap around his waist, confused by the way he’d wrapped it around himself. The more he untied it, the more tangled it seemed to become. There was a tingle in his head, behind his eyes. His deep breaths were becoming ragged.

  He coughed and then wheezed as he tried to fill his lungs with air. Clayton floated in the module like a man tied to weights in the deep end of a pool. He struggled to free himself from the simple belt he’d constructed moments earlier.

  For a split second, he found some clarity among the static and realized what was happening. That eleven minutes might have only been three or four. That pressure he thought was well above the fifteen percent threshold might be on the verge of dipping below it. Clayton considered he might have only seconds to live. The Soyuz, which he knew was safe, was his only option.

  He sucked in another noxious breath and changed his mind about the bungee. Instead of undoing the mummy wrap, he slipped out of it. He tucked his thumbs inside the cords at each hip and tugged downward, pushing the cords down his legs as he would a wet swimsuit.

  He drew his knees up and pulled down until he freed himself of the cords, kicking them loose into the module. He spun around to find Ben. The dead astronaut’s body was stuck against the module wall above the hatch.

  Clayton reached up for Ben and pulled him downward. Despite the microgravity of low Earth orbit, Clayton’s body felt heavy. His head throbbed.

  Somehow, he managed to direct Ben’s body past the narrow hatch opening and then wormed himself into the capsule behind Ben. Once he was completely through the opening, he grabbed the hatch and pressed it closed with what little strength he could muster. Even the minor task of pushing a virtually weightless hatch forced him to grunt as he shut and locked it.

  Clayton was winded. Nausea crept into his gut and throat. He coughed again and nearly puked. He floated in the cramped capsule, his hands flat against the hatch as they’d been when he pushed it closed. He needed a minute.

  As he regained his wits, his mind searched for the humor. He wanted to laugh. He couldn’t find anything funny about it.

  Then he thought of David Bowie. Of “Major Tom.”

  His circuits were dead. He was feeling still. He hoped his spaceship knew which way to go.

  He’d listened to Bowie’s “Space Oddity” countless times. He’d never really thought about the lyrics until that very moment.

  “I really am an idiot,” he said. “I need to get home.”

  CHAPTER 11

  SATURDAY, JANUARY 25, 2020, 1:37 PM CST

  CLEAR LAKE, TEXAS

  The car wouldn’t start. Not that Jackie thought it would. Neighbors had complained about dead batteries or fried engines in all of the vehicles. Still, she had hope. The hope died when the push-button start wouldn’t even click.

  “Great,” she said. “Absolutely great.”

  Her worry shifted to Chris. Was he stuck hours north of home? Would Rick be able to bring him home safely, or was his Jeep dead too?

  “Mom?”

  Jackie turned to her daughter, who was sitting in the passenger seat.

  “I was talking to you,” Marie said.

  Jackie smiled weakly. “Sorry.”

  “So we’re walking?”

  “I’m riding my bike. You’re staying here.”

  “You’re not going alone, Mom.”

  “I’m not leaving my house in the control of strangers.”

  “But you’d leave your teenage daughter with strangers while you bike to Johnson Space Center?”

  Jackie rolled her eyes. “That’s not what I meant.”

  Marie unbuckled her seatbelt. She’d been hopeful too. “Our neighbors aren’t strangers, except for Candace. She seems nice enough, even though she keeps crying every few minutes.”

  “Her boyfriend died in her arms,” Jackie said. “She’s allowed to cry.”

  “I wasn’t judging…”

  Jackie lifted her right hand from the wheel and brushed it against her daughter’s cheek. “I know.”

  “So leaving me at home,” said Marie, “what’s that going to do?”

  Jackie pursed her lips. “Really,” she said, “I just don’t want you going with me.”

  “Why?”

  Jackie sighed. “I don’t know what I’m going to find when I get there.”

  Marie shifted in her seat, turning toward her mother. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  She felt her daughter measuring her. Her daughter was intuitive. Jackie had always had trouble hiding her emotions from her firstborn. Even the way she’d greet her on the phone would elicit concern if she didn’t strike the right tone.

  “Mom,” Marie pressed, “what are you not telling me?”

  “Our neighbor Rebecca stopped by the house.”

  Marie’s chin quivered and her eyes welled. “Mom…” she whimpered.

  “Oh, honey.” Jackie knew she’d hesitated too long. “Your dad’s okay.”

  Marie’s shoulders sagged with relief. She let go of the breath she’d been holding in her lungs.

  Jackie corrected herself. “Actually, I shouldn’t say that. I don’t know how he is. I don’t know exactly where he is. That’s the reason I’m heading over to JSC. I want to know what they know.”

  “What exactly did Rebecca say?”

  “She said the ground lost contact with the ISS,” Jackie replied. “They’re working to reestablish communication with the crew,” she said, barreling through the explanation. “They’re doing the best they can. The good news is that they don’t have any indication anything is wrong up there. As far as we know, they’re floating around as they usually do, playing with experiments and taking pictures of the pyramids.”

  Tears leaked from the corner of Marie’s eyes. “But if we lost power down here, they probably lost power up there. They can’t live without power, Mom.”

  Jackie leaned into her daughter and took one hand with both of her
s. “NASA is smart. They’ve never lost an astronaut in space. They have backups for their backups.”

  Marie frowned and pulled away. She shouldered the door open. “Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”

  Jackie shuddered against the slam of the passenger’s side door and watched her sulking, worried teen huff into the house. Under normal circumstances she’d have shouted Marie’s full name and ordered her back to the car, delivering a lecture on manners and respect.

  These weren’t normal circumstances.

  Jackie shoved open her door and went into the house. She was met with the smell of cooking sausage.

  Candace was in the kitchen at the island. Her eyes were red and puffy. Reggie was cooking on the gas stove top, working a large pan skillet, and had it covered in sausage links. Lana was standing next to her husband, leaning on him as he worked a spatula. She seemed mesmerized by the sizzle.

  “Where’s everyone else?” Jackie asked.

  Lana looked up from the skillet. “Betty and Brian are out back, sitting by the pool,” she answered. “Marie went into your room and slammed the door. Everything okay?”

  Reggie glared at his wife. “That’s personal,” he said. “Plus, you could guess everything is not okay, what with Chris and Clayton not here.”

  “It’s okay,” said Jackie. “I know you’re being thoughtful.”

  Lana smiled. She rubbed her husband on the back. “We’re a little stressed.”

  “I’m riding my bike up to JSC,” Jackie told them. “I want to know what they know. I can’t keep looking up at the sky blindly, wondering what’s going on with Clay. And there’s nothing I can do about Chris. So…”

  “I get it,” said Candace. “You want to feel like you’re doing something.”

  Jackie nodded. “Yes.”

  “Let me go with you,” offered Candace. “If you have a second bike.”

  Jackie glanced over at her closed bedroom door before answering Candace. “I think I need to go alone.”

  Candace frowned. “Please don’t make me beg. I need something to distract me. I can’t keep sitting here crying.”

  “I’ve got another bike,” Jackie said. “You can go with me.”

  Candace’s face lit up like a child. “Really?”

  Jackie shrugged. “Sure.”

  Candace pushed herself from the island. “Thank you, Jackie. I need this.”

  Jackie told Candace where to find the bike in the garage and told her she’d be there in a minute. She crossed the great room to her bedroom door and started to turn the handle. She hesitated. Instead of opening the door, she knocked.

  Marie barked, “What?”

  “Can I come in?”

  “It’s your house. You can do what you want.”

  Jackie opened the door and found Marie sitting on her bed, her legs crossed. She was picking at her manicured nails. She’d only had them painted at the salon three days earlier. Jackie eyed the chipped blue polish on Marie’s fingers and wondered if she’d ever again have a day at the salon with her daughter.

  “I’m taking Candace with me.”

  “Of course you are.”

  “I need you here.”

  “Why?”

  “A lot of reasons.”

  “Like?”

  “This is our house. You know where things are. You have privacy in my room. You’re safe.”

  Marie chewed on her index finger at the cuticle, knowing it was one of Jackie’s pet peeves. Jackie ignored it.

  “Also, I don’t know what’s out there beyond our neighborhood. Until I do, I don’t want you leaving our street.”

  Marie rolled her eyes. “I drive into downtown Houston all of the time, Mom. I can handle myself.”

  “That’s different,” Jackie said. “You know it’s different.”

  “Whatever.”

  Jackie curled her hands into fists and sat on the edge of the bed. She stared at Marie until her daughter looked back her.

  “Listen,” she said, “I’ll cut you a lot of slack. The world sucks at the moment. I get it. But enough with the teenage angst. Enough with the disrespect. I am your mother. You’ll do what I tell you to do. If I tell you to stay here and guard the fort, that’s what you do. Got it?”

  Marie’s jaw tensed and she opened her mouth to say something but must have thought better of it. Instead she nodded. “Got it.”

  Jackie reached over and rubbed Marie’s knee. “I love you, Marie. I’ll be back before you know it. Just don’t let Betty take over the house while I’m gone.”

  Marie smirked. “I’ll try.”

  Jackie slid off the bed and blew her daughter a kiss. She shut the door behind her and strode to the garage.

  Candace already had the garage door open and two bikes in the driveway. She was bent over at her waist, pumping air into a front tire.

  “You didn’t have to do that,” Jackie said, grabbing two bottled waters from the slightly below air temperature refrigerator. “But I appreciate it.”

  Candace kept pushing and pulling on the pump. “It needed air. Figured I’d go ahead and do it so we could get a move on.”

  “Sounds good,” Jackie said. “I got some water. It’s less than a five-mile ride, but it’s better to stay hydrated.”

  Candace pushed the tire with her thumb and disconnected the pump. She recapped the valve and took the bottle. “Thanks. I didn’t see any helmets.”

  “Chris has one somewhere,” Jackie said. “I don’t know where he keeps it.”

  “No biggie,” said Candace. “We’ll be okay.”

  Jackie pulled the garage door shut. “Ready?”

  “Ready.”

  They hopped on the bicycles and rolled down the driveway, gathering speed as they pedaled along Jackie’s street before turning left to leave the neighborhood. Neighbors watched them as they sped past. Some of them waved. Most of them stared with blank looks.

  Everyone was still in shock. Jackie figured they were processing the plane crash, the death, the loss of power, the lack of certainty about what might come next. Instead of being proactive, they were passive. They were sitting around waiting for Godot.

  Jackie pedaled harder to escape the loop that encircled her neighborhood and then sped from the development closer to Saturn Lane. The chilly breeze was liberating.

  She sucked in a breath of the air less rank with smoke and decay than on her street. The muscles in her calves and thighs worked to push her forward.

  Candace kept pace with her, drafting on her right side. They were moving at a surprisingly good clip. Then they turned onto the boulevard.

  It reminded Jackie of what the town looked like after a hurricane or flood. Cars were stopped in the middle of the road, perched on the edge of curbs. Some were smashed together from collisions.

  Jackie dropped her feet from the pedals and skidded to a stop. Candace braked alongside her.

  “It’s like a moment frozen in time,” said Candace. “Like when the Earth stood still.”

  Jackie scanned the bifurcated street. She was glad the car hadn’t started. There’d have been no way for her to navigate the obstacles.

  What struck her most of all was the relative quiet. There was no whoosh of passing cars or the low rumble of air traffic. The only noise she could hear was the distant hum of gasoline generators.

  People who lived in Southeast Texas were used to losing power in predictable storms. They had generators strong enough to run refrigerators or a few fans. Some of the wealthier people had built-in natural gas generators that would power entire houses.

  Jackie had neither. She cursed Clayton under her breath for leaving her unprepared and immediately sought forgiveness by looking up at the cloudless sky.

  “Hey, look at that.” Candace pointed across the street.

  There was a group of teenagers, maybe a half dozen of them, huddled together on the opposite side of the road and fifty yards or so in the direction they were planning to travel.

  They were stopped at a
pair of dead cars. One of them, with a thick mop of brown hair and hands stuffed deep into his loose-fitting pants, stood as a lookout. The others were trying the doors. None of them had noticed she and Candace were watching them.

  When none of the doors opened, one of the boys, whose head was nearly bald, pulled off his long-sleeved T-shirt and wrapped it around his arm. He motioned for the others to step away, reared back, and punched his elbow through the glass of the passenger’s side door.

  He moved to the next vehicle while another boy reached inside the car and opened the door. A couple of them disappeared into the front seat, no doubt rifling through the owner’s belongings.

  The shirtless thug repeated the glass break on the other car. He shook out his shirt and slipped it over his head while another pair of his friends broke into the second vehicle. Jackie was mesmerized by the looting.

  Candace thumped her on the arm. “He sees us,” she said. “We need to go.”

  Jackie’s eyes darted to the lookout. He’d pulled his hands from his pants pockets and was pointing directly at her. The others were too busy thieving to notice at first. But the bald one who’d taken off his shirt, the one Jackie thought might be the leader, followed the lookout’s finger across the street until he apparently saw Jackie and Candace watching them.

  The boy yelled something to the others. Jackie couldn’t make out what it was. But it was aggressive and angry. The others pulled themselves from inside the cars, and like a pack of lemmings, they all snapped their attention in unison.

  “Should we go back?” Candace asked.

  “No,” Jackie said emphatically. “That would lead them into our neighborhood. We don’t need that.”

  “You think they’d come into the neighborhood?”

  “Candace, they’re breaking into cars in the middle of the day on a major street. They’ll loot neighborhoods next. Ours doesn’t need to be the first.”

  “So what, then?”

  Jackie put one foot on a pedal, stood tall to push it forward, and propelled herself forward. “We’re on bikes. They’re on foot. We speed right by them.”

  Candace followed Jackie’s lead and started pedaling to keep pace. “I don’t know, Jackie,” she said.