Cyber Witch

Chapter 8.2 - Worst Landing Ever

An orangish-yellow sun hung over the cliffs, providing some warmth to our wet bodies. I didn't know how much daylight we had left.

I stood and helped Avia up to wobbly legs. "We overshot the settlement area. It's going to be a long walk." Fortunately, the shoreline would guide us.

"Not like we can call for help," she said with a sigh. "Might as well get started."

Only the shuttle stern and one thruster cone remained above the waves, then with a bubbling burble, it disappeared. Having no incentive to remain, we ventured off, hand-in-hand.

We walked for hours with few words, the only sounds supplied by gusty winds and crashing surf. It was not an easy hike, sometimes requiring us to scramble over huge boulders or wade through the waves where the shoreline cliffs closed in.

Our lack of food or drinking water took its toll, especially on Avia, whose cybernetic implants sucked energy from her body. She became woozy and unsteady on her feet, requiring my help more and more. We came across a small stream that cascaded down from the cliff, at first lifting our hopes, then quickly dashed them as I found the water bitter and undrinkable.

Eventually, the sun dipped below the cliff, plunging us into shadow, and a small orange cast moon lifted from the sea. One by one, distant stars appeared in a blackening sky. The temperature swiftly dropped, made more intense by the chill of blustery winds.

Avia stopped, wrapping arms around herself as she trembled. "I'm so cold," she said in a weak voice.

As I wrapped her in my arms, my eyes scanned the cliff edge. A small hollow under fallen rock slabs would do for shelter. "It's getting dark. Let's get some rest and continue at first light."

We squeezed into the small dank space. It was still cool, and dampness still prevailed, but at least it blocked the wind. I gathered Avia into my arms and shielded her as best I could.

"The sky," Avia whispered as we entered. "It's so beautiful."

And so, it was. By now, countless points of light decorated the abyss, each like a tiny beacon of hope, or so I wished. Closing my eyes, I lifted a silent prayer of intervention to a Creator that I had thus far ignored in my life. Would God listen now?

Avia snuggled against me, accepting the meager warmth I offered. "I'm glad you kidnapped me, Zach."

"Well, I don't usually resort to that to pickup women, but you were a special case."

She chuckled, but then her outlook turned somber. "Zach, if I don't make it--"

"Don't talk like that," I chastised, interrupted her words. "We're going to make it together, okay? Just rest for now." I held tighter as she drifted off into a restless slumber.

Between the cold and the hard poking rock, sleep was scarce and fitful that night. Avia did little better, stirring or jerking frequently, but she never left my arms.

After what seemed forever, the first rays of morning sun poured into our little hole. I took solace in the meager warmth it provided.

"Rise and shine, sweetheart," I said with what cheerfulness I could muster.

"Uhhh," Avia grunted in reply.

After helping Avia out of our little cave, I stretched my aching body. The low sun traced a line of rippling brightness across gentle water, making me squint. The fierce winds of yesterday had lessened to gentle breezes.

Wobbling as she stood, tiny beads of sweat appeared on Avia's brow, sparkling in the sunshine. Her eyes glazed, focusing far away, then rolled back as she slumped down like a rag doll.

"Avia!" I exclaimed, catching her before she hit the pebbly ground.

I knew what caused her collapse — hypoglycemia, probably aggravated by dehydration. And the cybernetic implants that stripped her blood sugar were likely failing.

Drawing rapid, shallow breaths, turned moist eyes up to mine as I cradled her. The resignation in those eyes broke my heart. "Zach," she whispered through cracked lips. "Go on. Leave me here."

"Not an option, sweetheart."

"But I can't walk."

Gathering her in my arms, I lifted her against my chest. "Then I will carry you."

"Zach, no," she wheezed.

"I'm not asking permission, Avia."

Avia had not the strength to resist, and let her head settle on my shoulder.

Gathering resolve, I set off on an uncertain journey. The beach widened, and the cliffs retreated. Thus, there were fewer boulders to negotiate. But walking through wave-deposited gravel or sand while carrying Avia became its own challenge, each step a slog, each step an act of will.

After so many steps, my legs wobbled and my mind hazed. So, I took a break, laying in the pebbles with an unconscious Avia at my side. Gasping breaths scraped my parched throat while my body screamed with a thirst I could not quench.

Then I began again, Avia again in my arms. Steps. Rest. Steps. Rest. I continued in uncounted cycles.

For me. And for Avia, especially for Avia.

Guilt soured my stomach, for it was I who brought this fate upon her.

The gentle sea taunted me with water I could not drink, while the sunshine upon dark pebbles further tormented me with shimmering waves of heat. Sweat no longer came, and my body fevered — a dangerous sign of dehydration. A desiccated cotton-mouth made breathing became more difficult.

Steps. Rest. Repeat.

But it was a losing battle. Mortality had its limits.

I collapsed, dropping Avia as I slumped down. She laid on her side with a cheek on the pebbles, making small jerky movements.

Get up, I commanded myself! But as I rose, dizziness overcame me, and I collapsed again.

On hands and knees, my gut heaved, spilling bitter bile onto the pebbles, wasting precious water.

It took all my remaining strength to crawl to Avia's side and roll her against me.

"I'm sorry, Avia," I said in a barely audible raspy whisper. "I tried..."