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’10...’

The countdown began.

‘9...’

The voice over the tannoid was croaky and hoarse,

‘8...’

And the bad quality of the speakers made it muffled too.

‘7...’

Someone started to cry out for their family.

‘6...’

They were a few rows behind me.

‘5...’

Some other people began to call out for families.

‘4...’

People began to move around,

‘3...’

Grasping at each other in one last goodbye.

‘2...’

The floor began to shake.

‘1...’

I closed my eyes.

‘0...’

Something lighted up in a passionate white and I suddenly felt heavy. I couldn’t control my body and so collapsed onto the floor in a weak heap. I could hear the sound of commotion all around me. People crying, collapsing, calling out for each other, but no one could move anymore.

Soon a drowsiness took over me and I felt myself relax and fall into a deep sleep.

When I woke up the pod was empty except for myself. I wasn’t sure if it was the same pod, I had come in, there was a possibility that my unconscious body had been dragged into a different pod. They did that to the ones who survived the travel. I pulled myself up off the floor, leaning against the walls of the pod to balance myself since my legs were still weak. Who knows how long I had been asleep for? It could have been only a few minutes, maybe a few days. There were no clocks or records of time inside the pod so there was no way to know.

I looked around for a moment, just to get my bearings. There were several barriers, meant to keep the crowd inside separated and orderly. Some were battered and easily climbable, others were recently fixed and reinforced with unfriendly looking barbed wire.

I thought about all the people who had been here before me. Every month 100 people are taken up to the surface, most don’t survive the travel, but those who do get to live a life of luxury, or that what they say, no one comes down from the surface, so nobody really knows.

‘Maybe I’m the only person who made it,’ I thought. Looking around there was no sign of any other life in the pod.

The walls hissed and hummed, I guessed from the heat of the surface. I had been told that it was hot on the surface. When you left your home, you had to wear a special suit, just so that you didn’t burn to death the second you opened your door. I saw two suits, hung up on the spinning wheel of the door.

‘There were more, but they’ve all left. I just wanted to stay and make sure you were alive.’

I spun around to see who had spoken. I thought I was alone, so the unexpected speaker shocked me half out of my skin. A young boy, not much older than me, stood in the doorway leading into another room I hadn’t seen before. He was dressed in the same white shirt and trousers as I was, but he suited it a lot more. I just looked messy.

‘Frankie,’ he said, holding out a hand. ‘Frankie Jones. Nice to meet you.’

I took his hand a shook it, limply.

‘Harriet Parker.’

‘Where are you from?’

‘Level 3. You?’

‘Level 2.’

‘Oh, fancy.’

Frankie chuckled quietly.

‘I guess you could say that.’

We both stared awkwardly at the floor.

‘We should probably get going,’ said Frankie.

‘Was I the last?’

‘Yeah.’

‘How many were there?’

‘I think 3 more. I woke up when they had all left, so I’ve only met you.’

‘Ah, okay.’

‘Well,’ Frankie grabbed the two suits from the door and tossed one to me, which I caught clumsily in my arms ‘Let’s get going shall we?’

His smile seemed honest and friendly. I smiled back, but I imagine it wasn’t as pretty, I felt too exhausted to give such a polite smile.

We helped each other into our suits. Frankie held my hair up when I zipped up the back, then turned to the door and, in one forceful push, opened it.

Blinding light flooded though. I had to cover my eyes at first to get over the initial brightness, but as my eyes settled, I could see nothing but a desolate wasteland.

‘Not exactly how I imagined it, to be honest,’ said Frankie, glancing at me.

‘Neither. I expected it to me more... I don’t know.’

‘Civilized?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Me too.’

We looked out at the land in front of us, dusty and barren, surrounded with oppressive rocky mountains. Frankie stepped out first, apprehensively hovering his foot over the ground before committing. Once he had taken a few steps out I followed him. I turned to close the door, saying goodbye to the safety of the thick wall and strong door, and hello to the exposure and danger of the surface.

Frankie waited for me to catch up to him before we continued walking down a path formed by the footsteps of the people who had left before us.

‘If we follow these, we should be able to find them, or anyone. This place seems so empty.’

It was unusually empty, more than I felt comfortable. It almost seemed like there had never been anyone on the surface at all. If it weren’t for the footsteps, I could have believed that no one had ever been here before but now I felt like a colonizer, exploring land I didn’t own, yet still claimed it as my home. This was my home. There was no turning back.

The sky was a light orange, scattered with grey clouds, and slowly grew lighter as the sun began to appear behind the peak of the highest mountain.

‘Look at that!’ Frankie marveled at the sunrise.

I had never seen anything like it. It was terrifying yet peaceful at the same time. Alarming and calming. It told me ‘This is only beginning’, but at the time I wanted to do nothing but run back to the pod and prey that someone came to rescue me.

‘Welcome home,’ said Frankie, still staring up at the sunrise through his tinted helmet. He took my hand.

Home.

This wasteland could never be home to me.