Prologue
A small form darted through the masses, flaming red hair a beacon for the weak sunlight. The puny rays lit her hair up like a fiery halo, creating an ethereal glow that illuminated her.
She barreled into others, sending them sprawling onto the ground. The crowd swarmed, a chaotic mass of shuffling bodies. The air was thick with the scent of unwashed skin and rot.
Sickness and disease ran rampant in the South Quarter, evident in the people walking around with rotting limbs and yellowed skin. When someone died, they just threw them into a designated hole until the scorchers came to burn them once a month.
Meanwhile, the sun putrefied them, turning the piles into rancid, decomposing cesspit's for disease.
Don’t think about the bodies. Just get to the ship.
The Glinting Pearl, the place her mother worked, faded in the distance behind her. She passed rundown buildings that housed even worse off people. Half of the buildings had gaping holes in the roof and walls, from the constant bombs and drug lab explosions.
A brief memory of hallowed out cheeks and dull gray eyes flashed through her mind; a prone body, neck bent at an odd angle.
Her mother…
Don’t think about it Avie, put it behind you.
She kept running, pushing past the burning in her legs and the lump in her throat as she elbowed others out of her way. Ignoring the curses that followed and the fists swinging in her direction as she approached the end of the street.
The comforting weight of Noah on her back kept her grounded as she flew around the corner. In the distance, The New Horizon was docked. She couldn’t see the entrance, just a sea of swarming people all desperately trying to secure a spot.
She continued forward, a bit slower because of the crowd, while scanning around for a better way in. Shipping containers lined either side of the entrance, remnants from the days when there were still seas to sail and cargo to transport.
She could see several people on the tops, most of them falling off into the writhing masses, their bodies lost in the frantic mob. How was she supposed to get there? Her legs faltered, panic creeping in with every step as the wall of people seemed impassable. She picked her way forward, one step at a time, as the shouts and screams clawed at her senses.
Tears pricked her eyes, hopelessness creeping in. If she didn’t find a way through, they’d both be swallowed by this madness.
Noah wiggled in his sling, an innocent, gentle reminder of why she was doing this. She couldn’t let him grow up in this wasteland.
He deserved a better life than this. He deserved more. She had to believe there was still hope, no matter how slim it seemed.
She adjusted the wrap where it dug tightly into her shoulder. Her back ached, but she couldn’t stop. Not now. Not when there was still a chance.
Twisting to glance at the containers again, she debated the chances. If nothing else, she could get a better look at the area.
She scrambled towards the closest one, her legs beginning to tire as Noah’s added weight wore on her. Not stopping, even as she stumbled and tripped, she made it to the rusty, broken ladder leading to the top. There were still a few good rungs, she’d just have to stretch and jump a bit to reach.
She glanced around at the crowd pressing in on her from all sides, swallowing her doubts.
Her heart pounded in her ears as she crouched, preparing to leap. One wrong move and she’d fall, possibly crushing Noah. She prayed that it would hold.
Her legs trembled violently. Pulling a deep breath in, centering herself, she jumped. If she missed, there would be no second chance, for her or for Noah.
The metal bit at her hands, cutting into the fragile flesh as she scrambled against the warped side of the container. Her hands slipped, slick with blood, but she clung to the ladder as if her life depended on it.
Arms burning, she pulled, using her feet to push as much as she could until she could just barely reach the next rung.
The ladder groaned and creaked worryingly and she paused her climb until it settled. A jolt of fear shot through her. One wrong move, one broken rung, and it was over.
Bit by bit, she climbed up, ignoring the numbness spreading through her limbs and the ache pulling at her back and shoulders.
Her arms shook uncontrollable, muscles screaming in protest, but she forced herself to keep going, to keep climbing.
Finally, she reached the top. With a final surge of strength, she pulled herself over the lip and collapsed. Noah’s sling made it difficult to breathe, constricting her chest, but she had made it.
Relief was fleeting, dissolving into dread as her eyes locked onto the distant ship. There was still too far to go, and as she stood, she realized she was out of time.
Guards pushed civilians away from the ramp, shoving them down without mercy. Her stomach lurched, a cold dread seeping into her veins as she realized they weren’t allowing anyone else in.
Her legs felt like lead but they moved on their own, spurred by the primal need to protect and survive. Every step brought her closer to the ship. She gained speed just as the guards stepped back, rifles raised toward the surging crowd.
No, no, no.
It felt like she was flying, the pain in her limbs held no meaning as she watched the ramp slowly rise. Desperation pushed her as she made it to the last container just as the ramp was closing.
She didn’t stop, couldn’t. Her feet barely touched the ground as she ran, instinct overriding all reason. As the ramp rose, a single thought cut through the haze of panic.
Jump.
And without thinking, without hesitating, she did.
***
Avelyn's chest heaved as she gulped down air, each breath burning her throat. The long sprint and climb had sapped her strength, her legs trembling beneath her. She stumbled forward a few unsteady steps before her knees buckled, forcing her to the cold metal floor.
“Holy shit, how did you make that jump?” An excited voice spoke far too close for comfort. She flinched away, steel gray eyes snapping up and staring daggers at the young man who’d startled her. He took a couple of steps back, eyes shifting around nervously as he refused to meet her gaze.
The lump over her back shifted, small whimpers muffled but steadily getting louder. Avelyn gasped and moved her hand behind her to support the weight as she untied the knot in the front. The whimpers turned into full cries as her fingers slipped and refused to grasp the fabric. Frustration made it worse as the wails of the infant echoed around the bay room.
“You tied it too tight.” A hoarse voice called out. Avelyn shifted as she looked around for who’d spoken. A middle-aged woman stepped forward, digging around in a tool-belt around her waist. Her orange jumpsuit denoted her as part of the engineering staff. “Here, cut the wrap with this,” she said as she held out a pocketknife.
Avelyn grasped it, muttering out a short “thank you” as she sawed through the straps. The binding slackened and she reached quickly to catch the little bundle as it fell.
The cries softened as she unwrapped the child. When twin gray eyes blinked up at her, recognition hit like a jolt. Avelyn’s chest tightened, and despite the chaos, a small smile tugged at her lips as Noah gurgled happily, unaware of the danger they’d escaped. Relief washed over her, warm and fleeting.
“I still can’t believe that jump,” Frederick blurted, eyes wide. “With a baby on your back? That’s badass!”
“A human can do amazing things when pushed to the extremes, Frederick. A mother protecting her child will go even beyond that.” The woman who’d loaned her the knife smiled at Avelyn and held her hand out to help her up.
“He’s not my son,” she said as she took the offered hand, legs still a bit unstable beneath her. She moved Noah to her hip as she locked her knees to keep from falling again. “He’s my brother.”
“Then your actions are even more noble.” The woman was kind as she took back her knife. Avelyn took her first good look at the woman, noticing details that had been overlooked upon her landing. A patch on her chest noted her as ‘Chief Engineer’ and the skin on her hand was warped and twisted with scars. They continued up, disappearing under her sleeve, and reemerged to cover the right side of her face and into her hair. She only had half a head of braids, but they reached down to her waist in hundreds of thin strands. “Gruesome, aren’t they?”
Avelyn met her gaze, the wariness and acceptance in the deep brown wells caused a queasy feeling in her stomach she couldn’t name. “Not at all,” she said as she vehemently shook her head. “Scars show strength. They’re reminders of what you’ve lived through and what you’re capable of.” She knew she’d said the right thing when the woman smiled, wide and bright.
“Imani Williams, chief engineer of the New Horizon.” She gestured over to the young man who Avelyn just noticed was making silly faces at Noah. “This lug head over here is my son, Frederick.”
Frederick straightened up, aghast at his mother’s words. “How many times do I have to say that it’s FRED!”
“Boy, don’t you take that tone with me! I am your mother, I named you, and I will call you by your name when I damn well please!” Avelyn shifted nervously at the rising tones. She pulled Noah in tightly, cuddling him to her chest for comfort in case things escalated.
“Yes ma’am, sorry Mama.” Frederick hung his head, flinching slightly when Imani reached to pat his cheek. She shook her head, exasperated at her son’s actions.
“Attention all crew and passengers. The launch sequence is about to begin. Please locate a harness seat and strap in for departure. T-minus ten minutes.” The intercom interrupted the mother and son moment. Frederick gave one final nod towards Avelyn and took off to help direct people to a seat.
“This way,” Imani gestured to the left and walked in the direction of a corridor. As they walked, Avelyn glanced around the massive cargo hold. Crates towered above them, strapped tightly to the steel floor. The sharp tang of metal and fuel hung in the air, mixed with the low hum of machinery.
Holo-tape flickered along the walls, guiding clusters of civilians toward other corridors. The clang of tools and the hurried footsteps of the crew echoed through the room, but somewhere beneath it all, there was another sound—dull, rhythmic banging. Her eyes darted around, but she couldn’t find the source.
“I’d suggest ignoring the sounds you’re hearing unless you want nightmares for the rest of your life.” Imani spoke solemnly, pausing in her steps as she looked towards the ramp entrance. Avelyn’s eyes widened a fraction as understanding dawned. She hugged a sleepy Noah, relief hitting her once more at the reminder of what she’d almost lost. She kissed his head softly, his happy gurgles made something in her throat tighten and her eyes burned hot and prickled at the corners.
They made it into the corridor and up the stairs at the end. The cacophony of sounds died off once they reached a doorway in the middle of the hall. “This is mine and Fred’s room. Each crew cabin comes with harness seats. Mine happens to have a cradle seat so little man there can be safe. There’s only the two of us so you two can have the spare seats.” Imani gestured into the small room, only two bunks with chests at the end.
She pressed a button to the left of the door and panels slid away from previously empty points around the room. A larger panel between the beds opened to reveal two seats, one of which was shaped like an egg. The bottom of the pod was white, and the top was made from a clear impenetrable polycarbonate dome. The shield pods had become popular decades ago when the Earth was wracked with earthquakes and acted as a stabilizer that kept infants inside safe from the shaking and falling debris.
Now parents use them to try to protect their children from the bombs.
“Why does your cabin have extra seats?” Avelyn questioned absently as she worked to strap Noah in and activate the stabilizer. Imani paused where she was working to secure herself in her own seat.
Imani’s hands stilled over her harness. “This cabin was meant for my sister and her daughter,” she said, voice low, almost lost in the hum of the ship. Her eyes didn’t meet Avelyn’s, instead staring at the empty seat where a child should have been.
“But I am a strong believer in fate. You were meant to be here, you and your little man. I do not believe in coincidence.” Imani’s focus came back razor sharp, staring at her directly. “And I don’t even know your name, child.”
“Avelyn Pierce.” The final buckle of her harness clicked into place as she met Imani’s gaze evenly. Fred came bursting into the room, falling into the seat beside his mother. “Thank you, Imani. For what it’s worth, I’m deeply sorry for your loss.” Imani smiled and nodded her head in thanks.
The intercom pinged through the room, announcing the countdown for lift-off. Avelyn looked over to her brother sleeping peacefully in his cradle. He would never experience the horrors of Earth and what humanity had done to it.
“T-minus ten, nine, eight…”
Imani and Fred held their hands clasped together, each had tears wetting their cheeks and looked grief stricken yet relieved.
“Seven, six, five…”
Humanity had no idea what waited for them in space. They had coordinates to the nearest habitable planets, but it would take decades for them to get there. Space was truly the final frontier, and their final hope.
“Four, three, two…”
Avelyn’s fingers gripped the harness until her knuckles turned white. Her heart pounded in her ears as the countdown echoed through the cabin. She glanced at Noah, fast asleep in his pod, his peaceful breathing a stark contrast to the turmoil inside her. She closed her eyes, forcing herself to breathe, to calm the rising panic. There was no going back. Not anymore.
“One.”
