November

Running wasn’t going to help. They were everywhere, and I was running out of time and energy. I felt their silver bracelet grow hotter as it rubbed against my wrist. That’s how you knew it was time; the bracelet started to burn. It burned a brand on your arm, a single word that told you the name of your rocket. We all had one. That way anyone would be eligible to be sent to the moon in the annual journey. I wish that I could’ve taken it off myself, but it was impossible without the key. Besides, at this point, it was too hot to touch. It burned against my wrist, a fiery pain that slowed me down too much.

“Where are you, sweetie?” There was that voice again. I had been hearing it ever since her bracelet became warm, ever since I had started running. It was a woman’s voice; smooth and delicate, but also cold and threatening. It was the kind of voice that could force you to do what it said, both out of love and out of fear. I had been fighting it for weeks, but it just kept getting closer. I used to barely be able to hear it. Now it sounded like it was right behind me.

“I know you’re scared, but you don’t have to be. It is an honor to be a part of the Chosen. Very few have the physical, let alone mental capacity to undertake this challenge. But you, Adrian Farroway…” She paused, letting my name sit in the air for a little bit longer, as if testing it against the wind. My bracelet burned orange, burning my skin. The combination of the searing pain and the smell of my own burnt flesh nearly incapacitated me, but I forced myself to keep moving, trying to get away from her coaxing. But it still only seemed to get closer.

“Top of your class, star athlete, and quite the crafty troublemaker too. Very popular among students and, considering your impressive arrest record, the entire police department. You make the perfect candidate.” How did she know so much about me? I had done everything I could to destroy that file, but she still somehow knew everything that was in it. School reports, medical papers, police records. Even I didn’t know everything that was in it, but she did. I was starting to think I was outmatched. She seemed to know my every move, following me through random alleys and backways. If I wanted to escape, I would have to move faster. But even as I had this thought, I knew it was hopeless. I was already running faster than I should have been able to. My lungs were burning nearly as hot as my wrist, which had become nearly completely numb from the pain. Nearly.

I dodged into an especially dark alley, where I thought that maybe I could hide, or at least have some cover. But it was a dead end. The alley stopped short at a chain link fence. If I had two working hands, I could have easily scaled it. But that was not currently an option.I turned around to escape, but there she was. She stood between two figures in black hoods, each carrying their individual weapon of choice. The first held a brown leather whip with what looked like a barbed metal lash. The second had a single katana. The woman in the middle was unarmed and relatively small, but her cold eyes and wicked smile told me that she could easily beat either of the guards in a fight. I didn’t stand a chance. I was cornered.

“Stay away from me,” I said, stumbling backwards, tripping over crates and boxes, courageously as always. “I know what happens to the people on the rockets. They never come back. You’re sending them to their deaths out there!”

“Oh, my dear,” she said, walking forward until she was standing over me. “You don’t know the half of it.”

The physical examination didn’t take very long. Of course, there wasn’t much they could do with a non-compliant patient such as myself. They just took my height, my weight (no, you may not ask), and a few other things that didn’t really matter. Whatever the results were, I would be going. 

The lady who kidnapped me didn’t stay long. Instead, a stubby man with rimless glasses smashed onto his baby face took me to my rocket. He was introduced to me as Dr. Shortlip, but I never would find out if that was his real name. He removed my bracelet nervously, and I could tell that he didn’t want to be there any more than I did. Maybe he was afraid of me. Or maybe he was the first person I had met that day with any sort of moral infrastructure. Whatever the case, it was something I could manipulate.

“You know, you don’t really have to do this.” I said. This was something I had learned how to do ages ago, ever since my first day of high school. Sometimes straight A’s don’t come easy, even for a super-genius like myself. I learned to use what everyone else wanted against them. This guy wanted nothing to do with me, and I could tell, but by the look in his eye, I could tell something else was in the way.

“No, no, I must.” His words were nearly indistinguishable behind his slurred speech and heavy accent from who-knows-where. “She will make me very unhappy if I do not.” Great, so that was what was in the way. He was afraid of punishment from his boss, and it sounded like he spoke from experience. He said “very unhappy” as if it reminded him of a dark corner he never wanted to go back into. Fear was not ideal, but it wasn’t unusable. At least I could get to know my captives a little better.

“Yeah, who is she anyways?”

He paused. “I don’t know,” he said, but I had learned to see through a lie before I could even speak. “That is too above my pay grade.”

He finally got my bracelet off, revealing my burnt skin underneath. At least it didn’t hurt quite as bad anymore, but the mark was permanent. I made out a single word branded to my wrist: November. 

“Ah, wonderful. Right this way please.” He led me to a large metal structure covered in bumps and divots. The bumps each had two metal cylinders sprouting from the back like strange tails. I assumed that each of the divots once held a bump as well. There were 26 total spaces, and each of the rockets (I was pretty sure these were the rockets) had a word written on them. I could make out Lima, Tango, Sierra, Whiskey, and a few others. Around the middle of the structure sat a rocket with a green light next to it. On its side ran the word November, barely legible through the dust and grime.

Dr. Shortlip could probably sense that I didn’t really care for the rocket, because he spoke to me. “Yes, I know it looks a little...iffy on the outside. We didn’t think this one could ever be used, but I assure it is perfectly safe. Ah, here we are.” We stopped in front of a pair of elevator doors at the bottom of the structure. “Now, when you are inside, just press button thirteen and you will be on your way!”

“You don’t have to do this,” I said to him again. “Please, just let me go. Say I overpowered you or something, anything, just let me go!”

“I am afraid that is not an option.”

“You’re afraid, huh? Afraid of what? Your boss?  Me? You’re a coward, that’s what you are!”

His eyes dropped slightly. I could see that I was getting to him, and suddenly I felt sorry. This guy probably had a family to take care of, or something like that. He didn’t want to be here, yet here we were anyway. He looked back up at me with new walls and a steady determination.

“Get in the elevator. Press button thirteen. I cannot help you anymore. No one can.” I watched from the elevator as he turned around, pushed up his glasses and walked away. I never saw where he went.

The rocket itself was less of a rocket and more of a sock drawer. I could barely fit myself in there with all of the wires and consoles. No steering wheel, I noticed. Only a big red button with the word “EJECT” written in large white letters. It looked almost comical, but I still decided not to press the button until I had landed. I didn’t want to be caught alone in space. On the opposite side of the control panel (so, about 3 feet away) was a speaker which played FM radio unless they were giving me information regarding the launch.

“November, please fasten your seat belt.” “November, please do not punch the walls of the machine, as it could cause engine failure and/or certain death.” “Please keep your arms and legs inside the vehicle at all times.” The last one seemed pretty unnecessary. There wasn’t so much as a window in the vehicle, let alone any openings I could stick appendages through. I wondered how long it would take for me to run out of oxygen. I didn’t usually have claustrophobia, but suddenly I found myself shaking like a scared dog. There was no escape.

“T-minus 60 seconds until launch. 59...58...57…” The monotonous droll of the countdown, although a welcome break from the radio pop that otherwise was playing, was still nerve-wracking. I almost wished that they would just get it over with and launch me already. I was cracking from the pressure. I just hoped my rocket was more resilient than I was.

“5...4...3...2...1...Have a nice trip!” And with that, I was rushed off through the atmosphere, into the cold, dark heart of space.

Every cell in my body seemed to be on fire. It felt like my brain kept exploding and reforming, only to explode again. My heart did it’s best to fly out of my chest, and my stomach betrayed me, sending its contents on a little field trip to the real world. There wasn’t a single part of my body to escape the unmatched pain and burning.

In short, it wasn’t the most comfortable ride.

I couldn’t tell how long it lasted, but it felt like forever. Finally, the red button began to glow, and the word “EJECT” began flashing yellow. I took that as my cue. I used pretty much the last of my strength to move my arm far enough to reach the button, pressing it down and passing out simultaneously.

I woke up in a cold sweat. No, not a sweat. I was in a lake. A lake...on the moon? Was that possible? Well, clearly, because I was floating in one. The water was freezing, cold enough to make any man a high soprano, but it felt really nice against my burning skin. Why was it burning? I couldn’t remember. It didn’t really matter, though; the lake was cool and serene. I didn’t really care about whatever had happened. I could just stay here for a while and cool off.

Looking around, I noticed that I had landed in a beautiful spot.. The lake was so clear that in some places, you could see the bottom, despite it being too deep to touch. I could see white pebbles dotting the smooth sand. Above me, the night sky was entirely covered with stars and galaxies. With no other natural light, I could even make out the Milky Way Galaxy, a purple and blue streak across the sky. I felt like I could stay here forever. Maybe I should. Maybe I would. I imagined a beautiful life, floating between the pebbles and the sky. The perfectly dark sky, and the perfectly white pebbles.

Wait.

If there was no light, how could I see the bottom?

Everything snapped back at me at once. I could remember the lady, Dr. Shortlip, and November. I looked at the sky, and I saw the Earth, thousands of miles away. I looked back at the bottom of the lake, and fear surged through me, gripping my throat, choking me. The pebbles were there, clear as day, only they weren’t pebbles. They were skulls.

I felt a bony hand grab my ankle and pull me down.

I thrashed, kicked, and fought my way back to the top, but it was no use. I had time to take one good breath (what was I breathing, anyway?) before more hands pulled me down. Under the water, I saw no fish or plants, or any other sign of life. Only the skulls at the bottom, and the strange light that seemed to come from nowhere at all. I felt myself run out of breath, and before I could stop myself, I slipped into unconsciousness.

When I woke up again, I was strapped to a flat stone, surrounded by about 5 other people. Each of them had thick-soled shoes and crazy hair that seemed to move around on it’s own. They also had weapons. Crude white daggers and rough-edged slingshots, along with an assortment of bent metal hooks and things like that. It occurred to me that these weapons were probably handmade. I wondered how long everyone else had been here.

“So, what’s with the hairdos?” I asked. Sure, it seemed like a pretty stupid first question, but you can tell a lot about a person by just looking at their hair. The person next to my feet smiled, as if I were amusing him. Even though he wore no sort of badges or emblems, he was the clear leader of the group.

“Dude, don’t you remember anything? We’re underwater.”

That seemed ridiculous. First of all, I could breathe, and as far as I knew, I wasn’t able to breathe underwater before. But as I looked around, I felt like he might be right. The sun was barely visible above the surface, and it looked choppy, as if I were viewing it from the water. The pebbles I had seen from above now littered the ground below me. No, not pebbles. Skulls. Suddenly I didn’t feel so comfortable strapped to a rock.

Escaping would have been useless. The water made it extremely difficult for me to move, but the others seemed completely versatile. Besides, even if I managed to get to the surface, where would I go from there? I wasn’t exactly the best swimmer. I was formulating a plan to disarm them and get to shore when the leader spoke up again.

“Please, don’t try to get back up there.” What? How did he know I was going to try? I must have looked confused, because he continued. “No, I’m not a mind reader, but most of us have tried. But you can’t breathe up there. The water is the only thing keeping any of us alive. Really, it’s a miracle that you survived up there as long as you did, seeing as your ship was completely destroyed and all. You must be strong. We’re happy to take you in to be a part of our team, November.”

“What do you mean, November? My name is Adrian. The word on my wrist isn’t important.”

“Well, it’s important to us.” Another person stepped forward, but this time it was a girl. Maybe the second in command, the vice president of the drag-almost-dead-bodies-underwater club? She stepped forward and showed me her wrist. Burned into the skin was a single word.

“Echo?” I asked.

She smiled. “Pleased to meet you.”

The others came forward as well. The leader introduced himself as Yankee, and the other three were Juliett, Foxtrot, and Bravo. These were the people who had been shot to the moon years ago. I recognized Foxtrot’s face from a newspaper ad, and Echo used to be my mom’s friend. I couldn’t believe they were still alive.

“Where have you guys been? I thought you had all died.”

Yankee looked at the skulls and frowned. “Most of us did. But those of us who didn’t stay down here, creating a plan.”

“A plan?”

“Yeah. We’re gonna get back to Earth, find out why we’re being sent to the moon, and stop any more from going. But we really need another person to help build the ship. You in?” he asked, sticking out his hand.

I considered it for a long time. What would happen if we tried to go back to Earth? They’d stop us before we got there. This was a highly advanced, ruthless society. Even if we did manage to make it back alive, how long would it be before they found us and killed us? Or worse, sent us back? The plan was useless. And yet, another part of me believed in it. Maybe it was because I had to. I had left behind so much when they sent me here. I thought of my parents every day when I was on the run. My friends around the city would take me in, providing shelter and protection until it was no longer safe there. What if someone they loved was sent here? They all had bracelets too. I owed it to them to try. Besides, I was pretty good at building a rocket.

I smiled and shook his hand. “I’m in.”