Nick James - Skyship Academy

Body on fire, he reached down to try to retrieve them, but the drain was deep and narrow. His fingers only went so far. No pipe to unscrew. No pills.

He kicked the wall, tears forming in his eyes before they evaporated into the air.

He did what he could.

Crouching on the floor, he huddled in the corner and gripped his chest, focusing on breathing. Desperate to inhale cool, temperature-controlled air and exhale the heat, he imagined snow. Ice cubes. Freezers.

Dropping his head down between his legs, he gritted his teeth, struggling against the growing pain. He’d conquered worse in his life. He could do it.

He removed his jacket and threw it to the floor, unfastening the top buttons of his shirt. He chest felt tied up with rubber bands. His skin was wet with sweat.

He grabbed the com-pad from his pocket, dialing Madame’s number. She knew what was wrong. She could help him.

There was a ring on the other end. No one picked up.

Another ring. Still no answer.

After five, he cursed and threw the com-pad to the other side of the bathroom. Madame said she’d be in constant contact. Why not now, when he needed her?

The tiny chamber steamed up as fire erupted inside of him. He knew he wouldn’t be able to control it much longer. He thought about running back into the cabin and forcing the door open-jumping outside. But he didn’t have the strength. He couldn’t even stand.

So he cowered like a baby, waiting for it to happen, wishing someone would come and take away the pain.

But there was no one. He’d ignored Madame. His real parents were gone. Nobody on the Chute knew him. Even if they did, they wouldn’t be able to help.

At 10:08 p.m., halfway between Portland and Spokane, car number fourteen exploded in a great ball of fire, lighting up the darkness for miles around. The flames quickly spread to the reserve engine in the back and shut down the entire Chute.

Knocked off course by the blast and unable to control its breakneck speed, the Chute’s front end plunged into the rocky abyss of the Fringes, zigzagging through the dust until it flipped sideways, carrying the rest of the train with it. Many up front died instantly, including the engineer.

The Unified Party would later blame the accident on a Pearl power surge, though the Fringers would somehow convince themselves that they were responsible. Nobody would believe the truth, that a fifteen-year-old boy had taken down a Chute carrying more than 500 passengers without as much as a weapon. The country was in dire straits, for sure, but something like that was just ridiculous.

I peel my body off the window, feeling my face for blood. Avery’s toppled over beside me. Her arm lies limp against my back. She’s breathing, and her eyes are open. That’s all that matters.

I inch myself along the glass, careful not to rub against the spider web cracks of jagged windowpane. Pulling myself to a crouching position, I look around the cabin.

Most everyone’s spilled over to the windows, which are now the floor. Some moan in pain. Others don’t move at all. I see a guy over in the corner, blood pouring from a gash on his forehead. I turn away, feeling sick. The old woman who sat across from me moments ago now lies in a twisted heap, her limbs all jumbled up like she’s made of clay. Her face is turned away from us. I don’t wanna see it.

Avery lifts herself from the ground beside me, rubbing the back of her head. “What was that?” she mumbles before looking around the cabin. Her mouth falls open as she takes it all in.

I try to answer, but nothing comes out. My voice has disappeared. I wish my body could do the same.

One moment we were speeding along the track. Then, shortly after the Fringers threw their rocks, the Chute went crazy. I tried to buckle my seat belt, but before I knew it the entire cabin flipped over on its side and everyone fell to the window like rag dolls.

Two times in one day.

Two times in one day, we’ve crashed. The first one was expected-controlled, even. This wasn’t, which makes it a thousand times more horrifying.

People start to scream as they realize what’s happened. Avery and I stay quiet. The ceiling lights to our side flicker on and off, then off completely. A horrible choking stench flows into the cabin. It takes me a second to realize it’s smoke. As my eyes adjust to the darkness, I notice a faint light flickering from somewhere outside.

Fire. The Chute’s on fire.

“You okay?” Avery asks.

“We gotta get out of here. There’s a fire.”

“What about Cassius?”

“Isn’t time.” I crane my neck up to the ceiling-the right-side windows now framing the stars overhead. The circular entrance door lies slightly ajar, busted open from the force of the crash. Getting to it might be a problem, but it’s our only way out. The firelight advances in the distance.

Avery lays her hand on my shoulder. “Over and out?”

I nod, wondering exactly how we’re gonna get up there.

But Avery’s on it, pulling herself up onto the armrest of the nearest seat and standing across what used to be the center aisle. Pressed against the flooring, she grabs onto the next closest armrest and uses it to pull herself into the top row of seats. She crouches for a moment before making the final push.

I look up at her, perched in the sideways chair like she’s climbing a tree. This is going to be much harder than she just made it look. It’s like doing pull-ups, and I hate doing pull-ups. Can’t do more than ten. Luckily I’ve only gotta do two to get up and out of the car. Come on, arms. Don’t wimp out on me now.

Before I totally psych myself out, I move to the nearest seat and grab onto the armrest a few feet above my head.

Then I pull mass hard, trying to pretend like this is just another skill test. My muscles strain as I press my feet against the bottom armrest and launch myself upward.

After clearing the first pair of seats, I yank myself over the aisle and into the final top seats. Avery bends down and grabs the edge of the opening, letting her body go limp until she’s hanging in the air directly below the doorway. I sit on the armrest and watch her pull herself up onto the side of the train. Seconds later, she spins around and drops her arms through the opening.

“Just like climbing up into the vent,” she smiles down like the most beautiful monkey I’ve ever seen.

I flash a worried smile and grab onto her waiting hands, pressing my feet against the back of the seat so I can push out.

With Avery’s help, I lift myself out from the cabin and into the steaming-hot night air.

We stand on the curved siding of the Chute, careful not to slip. I look to the right: nothing but zigzagging train cars stretching on into the darkness. Then I turn around and see the flames spreading from the back. The very last car stands attached to the track, though just barely.

The Good Samaritan in me screams to head back down into the car and help some of the other passengers, but then I remember that Avery and I are fugitives, that we stole this ride. The longer we stay here, the greater chance the government will find us. Or maybe even Cassius. Avery steps to the edge of the car, sitting with her legs hanging over the side.

I move to join her. “What now?”

“We can’t stay here, obviously.”

I nod. “There was a Fringe Town a ways back.”

She shakes her head. “They’re hostile. We’ll head in the opposite direction. Northwest.”

I stare into the unknown. Shadowy rock formations jut out in the distance. Maybe they’re not rocks at all. “It’s dark. We’ll get lost out there.”

Avery pushes herself from the train, landing with a thud on the dusty ground below. “The stars, Jesse. You’ve seen ’em enough. They’re just a little farther away, that’s all.”