Hugh Howey - Half Way Home

“Those bastards stopped and went hunting,” Karl said.

Leila poked her head in between us, seeing what the fuss was about. “Gross,” she said, pulling away.

Over the sloshing water at our feet, I heard the hiss of more arrivals. I peered up the tunnel and saw a shape heading our way, but this time accompanied by the chatter and laughter of human passengers.

Jorge, Vincent, and Kelvin arrived on a single leaf, Jorge slowing them with skill before they got to the edge of the pool. They hopped out of the tunnel through the neighboring gap and I ran around to greet Kelvin and give him a soggy embrace.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” he said, slapping me on the back.

“No problem,” I said. “I might be cold and starving enough to actually try some of the meat. If we can get a fire going, that is.”

Tarsi ran up and took my place in Kelvin’s arms, the two of them squeezing each other tightly. Jorge walked by and slapped me on the shoulder. He smiled slightly at me before moving on, the most affection I’d seen from him since our escape. I chalked it up to post-descent euphoria and tried not to count on it lasting.

Kelvin moved to help the others wrestle the massive creature through one of the holes in the tunnel. They grunted and cursed the soggy weight of the thing.

“Sorry about ruining our water supply,” Kelvin said during a pause in their struggles.

Mindy laughed. “Don’t sweat it. Samson tainted it before you guys did.” She related his embarrassing incident, which put an end to all work as everyone doubled over in fits of laughter.

Everyone, that is, except for Vincent, who stood off to one side, looking up through the dripping veil of gray. When I spotted him, I stopped laughing with the others. I felt miserable taking so much joy out of being alive while all he could think of was Britny.

He turned in place and seemed to search the canopy overhead for something.

I watched him as he silently blinked away the falling rain.

“It’s no use,” Karl said. He set down the machete and wiped the rain off his face. He was the third to attempt a fire, throwing sparks into bombfruit fibers piled up under one of Tarsi’s little tents. He was also the third to give up.

The vinnie had been dragged thirty feet or so across the moss before being roughly cleaned. Somehow—and maybe it was just my growing hunger—but I felt better about the process with the thing having arrived already dead. Even though I knew it had been killed just as violently and quite recently, there was something about it being hidden from me that made the ordeal more palatable. Like someone else could shoulder my shame and bear it for me.

Whatever the reason, we had fresh steaks cut from its body and wrapped in pieces of torn leaf, and I actually had a sliver of desire to eat some. But alas, we had no fire to cook with.

“I say we set off for the mine,” I told the others through my chattering teeth. Tarsi reached her arm around me and rubbed me from shoulder to elbow, trying to help remove the shivers. All of us were cold and wet and gradually realizing how miserable our day and subsequent night would be if we stayed put and it continued to rain.

“We might as well be walking,” Kelvin said. He peered out at the mountains and shielded his eyes from the pestering rain. “Anyone know which way the mine is?”

“Just a little ways around the tree, back in the upward direction and then straight out,” Mindy said casually.

“You saw it on the way down?” Kelvin asked.

“Fourteen times,” she said, pushing her hair off her forehead. She looked at the rest of us. “What? None of you were keeping up?”

“No, but we’re glad you were,” Samson said.

“Is everyone okay for walking, then?” Tarsi asked.

We looked at each other, all of us dripping wet, even those who held scraps of tarp and torn sections of their leaves overhead. Despite the state we were in, shivering and soaked and still coping with the death of a friend, we seemed better off in spirit than we had been a few days ago while working on the rocket. There were unanimous nods and murmurs of assent. I drank from my water pouch and passed it to Tarsi. Jorge walked by, taking the lead, and we began the slow, soggy hike partway around the tree and toward the presumptive colony mine.

After a few hours of hiking, Mindy gave Jorge directions, and we veered away from the base of the tree and toward the mountains. It took a few moments to see what had triggered the change in direction—then I caught a glimpse of a module through the rain. The two vehicles sat nearby, still and lifeless.

Beside me, Kelvin leaned into the rain, holding up the scrap of leaf he’d been using to keep the water off his head. He slapped me on the shoulder and pointed.

“I see it,” I told him.

The chatter picked up in our group, our pace noticeably increasing. I looked up through the falling droplets at the tangle of the underside of the canopy. It was hard to believe we’d recently been so high. Looking ahead where the cover came to an incredible end, it seemed even more amazing that we might soon walk on the ground and yet see sky above. Even if it was still full of clouds.

It was well past lunchtime when we reached the mining site, but not once had anyone suggested we stop to eat. As we left the cover of the canopy, the moss gave way to a tangle of tall grasses and woody shrubs.

The faint line of a muddy road could be seen working its way back toward the trees, presumably toward our distant colony. The grasses grew up around it, giving the path a disused and neglected look. A small area around the module and tractors had been cleared of anything that grew, the packed and trampled soil reminding me of base.

We angled straight for the module, hoping to get inside and out of the rain. Several people further up the line alternated between yelling Mica’s and Peter’s names.

Jorge halted by the door to the module; he fumbled with the latch for a minute, then turned and looked to Karl, who stood behind him, dripping wet.

“Locked,” he said.

Kelvin and I walked around to the other side of the module, looking for a window or another door, but found neither.

“Let’s at least get under one of those tractors,” Tarsi said, catching up to us.

By the time the three of us circled around the module, we saw a few others had gotten the same idea. We joined them under one of the mining dozers, the clearance much lower with its treads than our wheeled tractor back at base.

“Maybe they didn’t come this way,” Mindy said.

“Any ideas on breaking that door down?” Karl asked.

Kelvin banged his fist on the underbelly of the dozer. “We could use this.”

“For shelter, or to open up the module?”

“Or both?”

“I’ll go see if it’s unlocked,” I said, scampering back out into the rain. I stopped, turned around, and ducked my head back down by the rear of the dozer, peering inside at the others. “If it cranks,” I said, “stay put. I won’t be moving it.”

Nervous laughter trickled out from under the machine and followed me around to the ladder hanging out past the treads. I climbed up, gripping the slick rungs with my pruned fingers.

As I stepped up to the landing, I became overwhelmed with nostalgia, or at least a sense of familiarity. The mining vehicle was identical to our old construction tractor from the deck up; standing there flooded me with memories.

I tried the handle but found it locked. Cupping my hands around my face, I leaned against the door and scanned the dash, looking for any lit indicators or sign of operability. A rock would probably get us through the glass—I turned to see if any big ones could be seen in the mud below, and that’s when I saw Peter, running through the mud and toward the tractors.