Crash Land on Kurai – Chapter 7

In the silence, I’m ten years old again. I was out for a hike with Kazuo, a few friends, and the family dog. Everything was off about this day. I’d gotten into a huge fight with my mom in the morning, over something stupid and insignificant. I can’t even remember what it was now. So, when I left to head out with everybody, I was in a really piss poor mood.

I hung back at the tail end of the hike, not wanting to talk to anybody about anything, just being angry about the world, my family, everything. Only the dog, Kohi-chan, was willing to spend time with me, probably because I would throw his stick whenever he wanted. Come to think of it, I was mad about some injustice involving my brothers. Since they were boys, they got all the praise in the family. That was always the way. Mom and Kazuo humored me, but even then, I was expected to fall in line.

Anyway, so there I was at the back of the trail, not paying attention. I was staring out into the forest, watching the birds, and being angry at myself and my family, when out of nowhere came a giant boar, barreling down on me. I screamed and ran as fast as I could away from it, Kohi-chan running to Kazuo, and then suddenly I was at the bottom of a gulch. I don’t remember seeing the edge of the cliff, nor my feet slipping and falling out from underneath me. Just one moment I was on my feet and running, and the next, I was lying on top of a pile of rocks with a broken arm.

That’s what falling from the sky in a life pod is like. One moment, I’m looking into the ship, the doors are closing, and I’m strapping myself in. The next, we crash land, the life pod skipping over the ground and tumbling end over end.

Then, everything is silent.

“Is everyone okay?” someone asks. I don’t recognize the voice, and I can’t open my eyes. I don’t want to open my eyes. I’m afraid of what I’ll see.

A hand squeezes my arm, and since Kazuo was next to me when we took off from the ship, I assume it’s him. Peeling open my eyelids, I turn my head, and he smiles at me.

“Oh good. You’re alive.” He sighs and closes his eyes, resting his head back in the seat. I so rarely see him express emotion that I take a moment to savor it. He’s one of few people who cares if I live or die.

I hold up my hands in front of my face, making sure my head is still attached to my body. I don’t appear to be any more damaged than I was when I got into the damned life pod. My leg throbs, the tourniquet having come loose during the escape, and now blood pours from the injury.

“That doesn’t look so good, Minamoto,” Gen says, waving at my leg. I try to remember I punched him in the face earlier, and he’s still mad at me even if he’s trying to be nice.

“I’m sure it looks worse than it is.”

“Yeah, right.” He rolls his eyes and unstraps from his seat. “I took two years of first-aid. I could take care of that for you.”

“You touch her, and you’re gonna lose a lot more than your ranking,” Kazuo growls, staring directly at him. Gen pauses then returns to his seat.

“And she’s so good about keeping her hands to herself,” he grumbles.

I hate to admit it, but I regret punching him. Sure, he deserved a beating, but it’s not like the action has done me any favors. I really should learn to control my impulsive temper. I grab the tourniquet and twist, trying to stop the blood flow. But I can already tell that it won’t do a lot of good.

Gen looks away from my leg and up at the small window in the life pod. Stars twinkle along the outskirts of a dark empty spot in the sky. “We must be in the shadow of the main planet right now. I wonder how long that lasts.”

I am not an engineer, nor am I all that good at any of the sciences, so I can’t even hazard a guess at the answer to this. If there’s data to study, I can memorize it. I can spout off statistics at lightning speed in order to interview people more knowledgeable than me. Or I can get to the heart of a problem without having to know how it works. These are my strong suits. Calculating orbits, not so much.

I glance over at Ryoko and Shien. “Are you both okay?”

“My arm is torn up, and I think I cracked a rib, but I’ll be fine,” Ryoko says, wincing as she takes a deep breath. I know how that feels.

“Shien? Shien?” I repeat louder. He doesn’t budge though his eyes are open, and he’s staring straight forward.

Ryoko taps him on the shoulder, and he turns to face us, his eyebrows drawing together. “I can’t hear anything,” he shouts. “What’s happened to me?”

My heart breaks for him. He looks ten years younger than he should with his eyes wide and confused. Kazuo and I exchange a look, one that says, “Oh, man, are we screwed.”

I mime signing at Shien. I point to me, my ear, and then to him. I point to my eyes and then the rest of us. I hear you. You watch us. He nods in response.

Glancing at the sky through the window again, I groan at the impossibility of our situation. If only we studied the system longer before this happened, we’d know a hell of a lot more about these planets and their moons than we already do, which isn’t much.

The wind outside howls and the life pod creaks, sending a chill through me. We have no idea what to expect out there, but I doubt we can stay inside forever. If the natives come, they’ll search for the life pods. We won’t be hard to spot as I’m sure we took out trees and other natural objects on our way down. We’re vulnerable if we stay here.

“We should pack up and move. Get away from the life pod.” I say, unstrapping from the chair. I pat myself down, assessing my body for more injuries, but I only run across my tablet and knife. Thank goodness. Moving is a bad idea, but I have no better ones. A trickle of blood runs down the back of my leg. I ignore it.

“I can agree with that,” Kazuo says, helping me get to my feet.

“What if a search party comes looking for us? We should stay where we are,” Ryoko says.

Kazuo leans forward, opening the data panel of the life pod and hitting the power button. The console beeps faintly and warms up to a bright glow.

“In the event of an emergency landing, life pods are to be abandoned if the atmosphere is breathable. Those who came down with the pod should seek shelter. Standard operating procedure.” He points to an empty map with three blinking dots on it. One is us, and the other two are in opposite directions. The empty map scares me the most. We didn’t even have time to scan the system to get maps made! Those pods could be on mountains or in lakes. We’ll have to travel on instinct.

Gen peeks over Kazuo’s shoulder, and Kazuo stares at him before ignoring him.

“Looks like there are two pods somewhat nearby, each within thirty kilometers. If we leave and take the equipment, we should be able to find them. They’ll broadcast these beacon signals until the batteries die, which is about fourteen to thirty days.” Gen reaches past Kazuo to navigate the screen. He widens the scope of the blank map and finds six more life pods within a one-hundred-kilometer radius. Too far to hike injured.

“Thank God,” I say, sighing. “We all need to find each other.”

Kazuo unlocks the storage containers on each side of the console, pulling out extra tablets, batteries, and data packs, and stuffing them in a backpack. “Let’s pack up supplies and get moving.” He pushes Gen to the side.

When Gen steps back to the airlock door, the whole life pod grinds and shifts. Ryoko shrieks, clutching onto her chair. My head swims as adrenaline surges through me. With so much blood loss, I’m on the brink of shock again. This is not the time, body! I lick my lips, trying to focus on the situation, but all I can do is stare.

Gen freezes where he is, his eyes bugging out of his head as he swears. “I… I don’t think I should move.”

Kazuo crouches, testing the floor with each leg. He puts weight on the leg closer to the airlock, and the life pod sways.

“We must be resting on something.”

I swallow against nausea surging through me. Think of a solution! But my brain is stuck in the loop of, ‘We’re going to die. We’re going to die.’

I slap my cheek twice, looking around at the pod. What are we forgetting about?

“There are outside cameras. Turn them on.” If anyone knows anything about cameras, it’s me. There are four of them — one forward, one aft, and then two more along the hull. We came into the moon hard, so I doubt they even work, but it’s worth checking.

“Gen, you stay put,” Kazuo says, and Gen freezes in his spot. Tapping on the screen of the console, Kazuo finds the cameras. Two are dead, but the other two light up. Details are sparse because they’re in nighttime mode, but on one side of the life pod there’s nothing but air, and the other is broken ground leading up to a forest.

Kazuo sighs and rubs his face. My eyesight dims around the edges, and I try to lift my leg so that the bleeding stops. My lower body won’t move.

“Kazuo…” I try to reach out to him, but I can barely lift my arm.

Unconsciousness sucks me down, a whirlpool of black clawing at me, and I fight to stay awake and alert.

He turns in time to keep me from falling out of my seat.

“Whoa. Shit, you’re losing blood like a slaughtered animal!”

I smack my lips. “Leg needs work.”

Gen moves away from the airlock to his original position. The life pod pitches but doesn’t fall, not that I could move or save myself if it did. The world around me is faded and hushed. I can’t deny this wound anymore.

“Okay, look, I was an ass,” Gen says, holding up his hands. “I teased her about your family and then that guy Shintaro’s been dating since high school. I regret it. My face regrets it. But I don’t want to see her die. Let me help.”

Kazuo nods once, and I pass out.