羊毛战记 part 5 the stranded 80-凯发k8官网

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　　juliette made her way through the airlock doors and up the ramp, ignoring the dead around her, justfocusing on each step, and the hardest part was over. the rest was open space and the scatteredremains she wished she could pretend were boulders. finding her way was easy. she simply turnedher back on that crumbling metropolis in the distance, the one she had set off for so very long ago,and began to walk away from it.

　　as she picked her way across the landscape, the sight of the occasional dead seemed sadder nowthan during that previous hike, more tragic for having shared their home for a while. juliette wascareful not to disturb them, passed them with the solemnity they deserved, wishing she could do morethan feel sorry for them.

　　eventually, they thinned, and she and the landscape were left alone. trudging up that windswepthill, the sound of fine soil peppering her helmet became oddly familiar and strangely comforting. thiswas the world in which she lived, in which they all lived. through the clear dome of her helmet, shesaw it all as clearly as it could be seen. the speeding clouds hung angry and gray; sheets of dustwhipped sideways and low to the ground; jagged rocks looked like they’d been sheared from somelarger piece, perhaps by the machines that had crafted these hills.

　　when she reached the crest, she paused to take in the vista around her. the wind was fierce upthere, her body exposed. she planted her boots wide so she wouldn’t topple over and peered downinto the inverted dome before her, at the flattened roof of her home. there was a mix of excitementand dread. the low sun had only barely cleared the distant hills, and the sensor tower below was stillin shadow, still in nighttime. she would make it. but before she started down the hill, she foundherself gazing, amazed, at the scattering of depressions marching toward the horizon. they were justlike the silo schematic, evenly spaced depressions, fifty of them.

　　and it occurred to her, suddenly and with a violent force, that countless others were going abouttheir days nearby. people alive. more silos than just hers and solo’s. silos unaware, packed withpeople waking up for work, going to school, maybe even to cleaning.

　　she turned in place and took it all in, wondering if maybe there was someone else out on thatlandscape at the exact same time as her wearing a similar suit, a completely different set of fearsracing through their mind. if she could have called out to them, she would have. if she could havewaved to all the hidden sensors, she would have.

　　the world took on a different scope, a new scale, from this height. her life had been cast awayweeks ago, likely should have ended—if not on the slope of that hill in front of her home, then surelyin the flooded deeps of silo seventeen. but it hadn’t ended like that. it would probably end here,instead, this morning with lukas. they might burn in that airlock together if her hunch was wrong.

　　or they could lie in the crook of that hill and waste away as a couple, a couple whose kinship hadbeen formed by desperate talks lingering into the night, an intense bond between two stranded soulsthat was never spoken or admitted to.

　　juliette had promised herself never to love in secret again, never to love at all. and somehow thistime was worse: she had kept it a secret even from him. even from herself.

　　maybe it was the proximity of death talking, the reaper buffeting her clear helmet with sand andtoxins. what did any of it matter, seeing how wide and full the world was? her silo would probablygo on. other silos surely would.

　　a mighty gust of wind struck her, nearly ripping the folded blanket out of her hands. juliettesteadied herself, gathered her wits, and began the much easier descent toward her home. she duckeddown below the crest with its sobering views and saddening heights, out of the harsh and causticwinds. she followed that crook where two hills met, winding her way toward the sad sight of acouple buried in plain view, who marked her fateful, desperate, and weary way home.

　　????

　　she arrived at the ramp early. there was no one on the landscape, the sun still hidden behind thehills. as she hurried down the slope, she wondered what anyone would think if they saw her on thesensors, stumbling toward the silo.

　　at the bottom of the ramp, she stood close to the heavy steel doors and waited. she checked theheat-tape blanket, ran through the procedure in her mind. every scenario had been thought of duringher climb, in her mad dreams, or during the walk through the wild outside. this would work, she toldherself. the mechanics were sound. the only reason no one survived a cleaning was because theynever had help; they couldn’t bring tools or resources. but she had.

　　time seemed to pass not at all. it was like her delicate and precious watch when she forgot towind it. the trapped soil along the edge of the ramp shifted about impatiently with her, and juliettewondered if maybe the cleaning had been called off, if she would die alone. that would be better, shetold herself. she took a deep breath, wishing she had brought more air, enough for a return trip, justin case. but she had been too worried about the cleaning actually happening to consider that it mightnot.

　　after a long wait, her nerves swelling and heart racing, she heard a noise inside, a metallicscraping of gears.

　　juliette tensed, her arms rippling with chills, her throat constricting. this was it. she shifted inplace, listening to the great grind of those heavy doors as they prepared to disgorge poor lukas. sheunfolded part of the heat blanket and waited. it would all go so quickly. she knew. but she would bein control. no one could come in and stop her.

　　with a terrible screech, the doors to silo eighteen parted, and a hiss of argon blasted out at her.

　　juliette leaned into it. the fog consumed her. she pushed blindly forward, groping ahead of herself,the blanket flapping noisily against her chest. she expected to run into him, to find herself wrestling astartled and frightened man, had prepared herself to hold him down, get him wrapped up tightly inthe blanket—

　　but there was no one in the doorway, no body struggling to get out, to get away from the comingpurge of flames.

　　juliette practically fell into the airlock; her body expected resistance like a boot at the top of adarkened stairway and found empty space instead.

　　as the argon cleared and the door began to grind shut, she had a brief hope, a tiny fantasy, thatthere was no cleaning. that the doors had simply been opened for her, welcoming her back. maybesomeone had seen her on the hillside and had taken a chance, had forgiven her, and all would be okay…

　　but as soon as she could see through the billowing gas, she saw that this was not the case. a manin a cleaning suit was kneeling in the center of the airlock, hands on his thighs, facing the inner door.

　　lukas.

　　juliette raced to him as a halo of light bloomed in the room, the fire nozzles spitting on andreflecting off the shimmering plastic. the door thunked shut behind her, locking them both inside.

　　juliette shook the blanket loose and shuffled around so he could see her, so he would know hewasn’t alone.

　　the suit couldn’t hide the shock. lukas startled, his arms leaping up in alarm, even as the flamesbegan to lance out.

　　she nodded, knowing he could see her through her clear dome, even if she couldn’t see him. witha sweeping twirl she had practiced in her mind a thousand times, she spread the blanket over his headand knelt down swiftly, covering herself as well.

　　it was dark under the heat tape. the temperature outside was rising. she tried to shout to lukasthat it was going to be okay, but her voice sounded muffled even inside her own helmet. tucking theedges of the blanket down beneath her knees and feet, she wiggled until it was tightly pinned. shereached forward and tried to tuck the material under him as well, making sure his back was fullyprotected.

　　lukas seemed to know what she was doing. his gloved hands fell to her arms and rested there.

　　she could feel how still he was, how calm. she couldn’t believe he was going to wait, had chosen toburn rather than clean. she couldn’t remember anyone ever making that choice. this worried her asthey huddled together in the darkness, everything growing warm.

　　the flames licked against the heat tape, striking the blanket with enough force to be felt, like abuffeting wind. the temperature shot up, sweat leaping out on her lip and forehead, even with all thesuperior lining of her suit. the blanket wouldn’t be enough. it wouldn’t keep lukas alive in his suit.

　　the fear in her heart was only for him, even as her skin began to heat up.

　　her panic seemed to leach into him, or maybe he was feeling the burns even worse. his handstrembled against her. and then she literally felt him go mad, felt him change his mind, begin to burn,something.

　　lukas pushed her away from himself. bright light entered their protective dome as he began tocrawl out from under it, kicking away.

　　juliette screamed for him to stop. she scrambled after him, clutching his arm, his leg, his boot, buthe kicked out at her, beat her with his fists, frantically tried to get away.

　　the blanket fell off her head, and the light nearly blinded her. she felt the intense heat, could hearher dome pop and make noises, saw the clear bubble dip in above her and warp. she couldn’t seelukas, couldn’t feel him, just saw blinding light and felt searing heat, scorching her wherever her suitcrinkled against her body. she screamed in pain and yanked the blanket back over her head, coveringthe clear plastic.

　　and the flames raged on.

　　she couldn’t feel him. couldn’t see him. there would be no way to find him. a thousand burnserupted across her body like so many knives gouging her flesh. juliette sat alone under that thin filmof protection, burning up, enduring the raging flames, and wept hot tears. her body convulsed withsobs and anger, cursing the fire, the pain, the silo, the entire world.

　　until eventually—she had no more tears and the fuel ran its course. the boiling temperaturedropped to a mere scalding, and juliette could safely shrug off the steaming blanket. her skin felt asif it were on fire. it burned wherever it touched the interior of her suit. she looked for lukas andfound she didn’t have to look far.

　　he was lying against the door, his suit charred and flaking in the few places it remained intact. hishelmet was still in place, saving her the horror of seeing his young face, but it had melted and warpedfar worse than hers. she crawled closer, aware that the door behind her was opening, that they werecoming for her, that it was all over. she had failed.

　　juliette whimpered when she saw the places his body had been exposed, the suit and charcoalliners burned away. there was his arm, charred black. his stomach, oddly distended. his tiny hands,so small and thin and burned to a—

　　no.

　　she didn’t understand. she wept anew. she threw her gloved and steaming hands against herbubbled dome and cried out in shock, in a mix of anger and blessed relief.

　　this was not lukas dead before her.

　　this was a man who deserved none of her tears.