Red Sky: Chapter 43

I went to the first elevator and held the white card up to the panel. Nothing. I held it up again. Still nothing. I looked at the card. Maybe it had gone bad in the dirt. I wiped it against my uniform after finding a clean patch of mustard near my left thigh. Still nothing. My head hit the panel in despair. I didn’t have the heart to try the other elevator but walked over to it anyway and held the card up for a second time. Neither of them worked. There was no way to turn them on. Max’s magical card wasn’t magical enough. I was going to have to find another way to the top.

There was still the third elevator, the ore elevator. I looked over to the tiny pickup window. The ore elevator works differently than the passenger elevators; the car is programmed to automatically return to the mine after dumping ore on the surface.

I walked over and opened the dropoff window. The car was there just as it was supposed to be.

The panel next to the elevator was different than the one I was used to. There was no keypad to enter in one’s number, only a large red button that looked like a clown’s nose. My finger wandered towards the button with little faith. I pressed the clown’s nose and the dropoff window locked shut. That was a positive sign. I pressed my ear against the window and could hear the familiar whirring of an elevator. The car was going to the top. I prayed for that car to come back, calling after it. Please come back to me. Please come back.

It did. I heard the latch of the window unlock. I looked inside. My chariot awaited. I smiled.

I took a step back and looked at that window again. It was tiny. The window was meant for a piece of ore not my large body. The problem wasn’t the size of the car itself. I would be able to fit into the car. The problem was getting through the window into that car.

How many times had I dropped off ore after a long day, not giving the window a second thought as I deposited Qalladium inside, and now here I was trying to figure out its exact dimensions. There are wormholes in the universe, portals to other dimensions, and here was my very own portal, only I might not be small enough to fit through it.

Of course, there was a second problem. There had to be a second problem. The ore slot had a swinging door that swung only one way into the car. Once I was inside there would be no going back, which would be fine if I didn’t have to figure out a way to press the clown’s nose. My arm wouldn’t be able to fit back through the small opening in the door because my body would stop the door from opening completely.

As I was contemplating such problems, an alarm went off in my head. I had to be at the top in less than five minutes. Whatever I was going to do had to be done immediately. I took inventory. I had one pickaxe, one shovel and a knapsack. The entire pit area was filled with loose dirt and rubble. I stretched the knapsack wondering if I could use the straps. But the button needed to be pushed, not pulled. The weak straps of the bag weren’t going to push anything. The knapsack was out. I held the shovel to the wall. It was the same the height as the button. That had to mean something.

Thinking, I twirled the shovel around in my hands. The weight of the head could be helpful. I could stick the shovel upside down in the dirt and it might be able to fall and hit the button. That was good. Now I only needed to figure out a way to build a timing mechanism with the dirt.

I tried to create a mound that was strong enough to hold the shovel while I climbed inside the car yet weak enough to let it gradually fall into the button. I tried several times but could never get it right. The shovel would either stay upright not moving at all or would fall after only a few seconds. I was definitely going to need more than a few seconds to get through that window.

The pickaxe was the only other tool I had left. It was supposed to be my weapon for the surface, now it was the only thing that could fit through the door once I was in the car. It couldn’t reach the clown’s nose, but it could reach the pile of dirt holding the shovel. I might be able to knock out the handle of the shovel in the dirt and then the weighted head would fall back towards the button.

The alarm in my head was still ringing, getting louder. The luxury of a deadline is that it gives you no choice but to do. I was going to throw myself into that slot like I had once thrown myself into a cave-in, with lots of hope and little chance of success.

I made my final pile of dirt, carefully lining up the shovel head with the button. I took a second to clean my face and hands before moving towards the ore slot. I hiked up my right leg and stepped through the door. With much difficulty I got my left leg in and slid feet first, the axe in my right hand. I was only going to have one chance to kick out the bottom of the shovel once I was inside. There absolutely would be no second chances. If I missed I would be stuck in the ore car with no way up to the top and no way out to the mine. I tried not to think about missing. The head of the shovel pathetically stared back at me when I gave it one last look. It looked as confident as I felt.

My shoulders shimmied through the swinging door and my arms quickly followed. The axe and my hand were now the only things outside the car. I couldn’t see through the slot, so I was relying on memory. They say your life flashes before your eyes in a near death experience. Well, nothing flashed before mine when I pushed the axe into the pile of dirt. My mind was completely blank when I heard sand shift and then sift like it was falling through an hourglass. My mind remained blank when I heard the metal shovelhead hit with a thunk against the red button. My mind was blank when my stomach dropped from my body as I flew to the top at great speed.

*

I was spit out of the elevator like a piece of ore. I hit the ground hard. My head was scattered from the trip. The ore elevator moved faster than the one I was used to. The grains of the red desert spun around me. I rolled onto my stomach and stared back at the tower that had just spat me out. I focused on the little point of the triangle on the very top of the tower. The desert slowed. I ran my hands through the warm sand waiting for the ground to stop moving. I pretended I was on a beach. The sand rested and the world was stationery again.

Straight ahead was the hill that obscured the elevator towers. Crawling to the top I peeked over its crest. Off in the distance the stacks of the refinery blew a steady stream of red smoke into the air. I felt myself pulled towards the refinery, but I stayed on the dune looking for the second shift. They should be within sight if my clock was correct. But they weren’t. I waited. The count speeding up in my head because I wanted the second shift to hurry up.

This was the true test of my timekeeping ability and I was failing. Panicked, I scanned the vast desert. I spied several stick figures outlined against the red dirt. They were very small, very far away. But they were in the wrong direction. They were between me and the other mine. Were they walking towards me or away from me? If they were walking towards me, I would be a full hour behind schedule. I literally buried my head in the sand contemplating what I would have to do if I was that far behind. My life would be over. I wasn’t going back to prison. I wouldn’t let them take me alive.

Forcing myself to look up, the stick figures were still marching. They had shriveled in size. They were marching to the mine, not from it. My head buried in the sand again. This time with happiness and relief. I was free. There was no one watching me, I wasn't locked up in a confined space. I could do anything I wanted. I could roll around or jump and shout for joy. I could make another dirt angel in the sand. But I was on a clock. My count was only a few minutes behind. I recalibrated. I had a little under forty-five minutes until the first shift returned to the prison. Forty-five minutes to finish what I had started. Forty-five minutes to escape the red moon. I got up from the sand dune and sprinted towards the Shoebox.

*

It appeared as a mirage at first. The gray of the Shoebox as water on the sand. I stopped running when the mirage turned back into reality, the metal edges now as straight lines against its red background. I searched for the best way to approach. There was no best way to approach. The desert was flat. The Shoebox had a clear view in all directions. I had no choice but to walk up to it like I was one of the guards returning from the first shift. Surveillance cameras covered every inch of the exterior. I knew that Hades and Goodwell were the only two in the prison. Would they really spend their time watching cameras that never showed any activity?

I moved forward expecting the garage door to rise any second and reveal an armed hover. The garage door didn’t rise. I turned to the front door. Now I expected to see Hades in full exosuit, lance out. Like the garage door it stayed shut, Hades didn’t appear. I was an uninvited guest.

I pulled out the white card. It had already failed me twice down in the mine. The card had one more chance to redeem itself. Holding it to the panel, I kept my eyes closed praying to the God of selfish wishes. There was a beep, then the slight shutter of a sliding door. The processing room appeared in front of me. It was so easy. I stepped inside and the overhead lights switched on.

The empty shakes from the morning were still lying in a bin by the front door. There was an exosuit and helmet resting on top of one of the consoles. I had brief thoughts of putting them on. I wondered if there was a tracking device attached. It would be foolish to allow them to track me again after going through all of that work to take off the collar. I left the exosuit where it was. I left everything where it was, careful not to reveal myself.

The door to the cafeteria was to my left, the same door I had taken every day for over two years. To my right was the path to Goodwell’s office and all of the back rooms of the prison. I moved for the door to the right. I didn’t need the card. There were so few precautions now that I was out of the mine. It felt like a trap was being set for me, but there was no trap, they just never expected an inmate to be here alone and off the leash.

I stood at the bottom of the stairwell. Through the glass to my right I could see the hover bay with three hovers sitting unoccupied. There was a door to that hover bay in front of me. It was unlocked and barely made a noise when I opened it and peeked inside. I could make a run for one of those hovers. Maybe my card could activate them like it had opened the front door. Maybe my card could raise the garage door and then there would be nothing between me and the red sky. Maybe I didn’t have to go upstairs and find Hades and Goodwell. My plan might work without confronting them. I looked up the stairwell and then back to the hovers. I hesitated for only a few seconds. I had made my decision a long time ago.

The first step creaked as I ascended the stairs. This made no sense because it wasn’t made of wood. My imagination was playing tricks on me, every movement creating noise, every step announcing my presence. If only Hades and Goodwell could announce their presence with footsteps I would know where they were. I listened for their footsteps. I heard something else when I reached the top of the stairwell.


Next Chapter: Chapter 44
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