The Edge of Darkness

Chapter Five: Trapped (Part II)

It took over an hour.

I heard a screeching noise, metal on metal, and looked up from where I had slumped, uninspired, to doze on the hard floor.

The door was opening. Slowly, slowly panning backwards into itself.

It was Lance's face that I saw on the other side, all spiky red hair and freckles and clear, blue eyes, having a giggle at our predicament.

I wasn't impressed.

We'd spent the last twenty minutes listening to the final calls being sent out, then hearing the mighty clangs from the docking stations detaching themselves. We knew Ethan was trapped here. And it was my fault. If I'd had more self-control, I wouldn't have wanted those final few moments with him. I could have let him go, but I was too selfish, too weak, to let him go so easily. I needed to make my mark upon him, because who knew how long it would be before we saw each other again – if at all?

"Lance," I said in a low voice. "Ethan's designation is R-658."

Lance's grin dropped immediately. He was on his knees, peering down at us. The elevator had stopped between floors and he was on the level above us.

"What the hell is he still doing here?" he whispered fervently.

"We've been trapped in this stupid elevator for the past hour!" I hissed. "What are we going to do now? We were on our way back to the docking hatch, we got stuck, and no Authorities came to help us! Now Ethan's trapped here and he'll be punished if they find him!"

"Wait a second, Max," Lance interrupted my little rant. "There has to be some way we can explain this to the Authorities."

"No, no way." Ethan shook his head, his blonde hair flying everywhere, as Lance helped haul him out of the elevator. I was next. "We can't tell them, they'd recycle me!"

"I have to hide you," I agreed. "Back to my bunk, quick smart."

"That might not be the best idea, Max," Lance blurted. "He can't go into the women's dorm."

"Do you have a better idea?" I snapped back, my anxiety levels peaking, half expecting an Authority to round the corner and arrest all three of us for loitering or something.

"Yeah. I'll look after him. I'll take him back to our dorm. Did you know that X-658 has been recycled?"

"Who was X-658?" I asked, racking my memory for the imprint of that designation. He had brown hair, I think.

"A guy called Rob. Caught hoarding pancakes, of all things. Executed about two years ago. Tall bloke, black hair, scarred all over from his incident."

Now I remembered better. Rob was a bit snappy at times; he had trouble with his temper. I think he hated his cyborg body more than most of us, yet unfortunately for him, his skin was scarred all over from the house fire in which he'd lost his limbs trying to rescue some trapped children. He was a former fire fighter. I vaguely wondered how many of us the Authorities had recycled over the years.

Lance said, "I'll put Ethan in his bunk. If the Authorities don't look too hard, they won't realise."

"Ethan's blonde," I pointed out.

"We all look the same to the Authorities."

"Let's go," Ethan pleaded. "I'm nervous just standing here."

Lance took off with Ethan, and I, not knowing what else to do, made my way to the gym and spent a few hours working out, running, lifting weights, and punching a bag like it was my own stupid face, my own stupid fault for getting Ethan trapped here.