Sarah Potts // Woodford County

     The fire danced all around him, but he could not feel the heat of the flames; he hadn’t been designed to feel such sensations as hot or cold. He mustered a feeling of something like gratitude for this, before turning his mind towards the more pressing matter at hand. During the crash he had somehow ended up on the opposite end of the cabin, slightly battered, but with no permanent damage. He got to his feet, stumbling slightly on the sloped floor, and made his way carefully towards the burned and blackened pilot’s chair, making no effort to dodge the flying sparks and flames shooting from the shattered control consoles.

     Glass from a dozen different broken panels and screens crunched underneath his feet, the fire reflected eerily in the fragments. He could not feel fear, yet even for him, it was a wholly unsettling situation. He fell somewhat awkwardly into the seat and reached over to the primary control console, which had a series of cracks like arteries running through it. It lit up faintly at his touch, the details of the last log entry he had been recording flashing up for a brief moment, before flickering into darkness again. He looked around, and even through the glare of the firelight he could tell the other controls were in just as bad of shape. The crash had completely crippled his ship.

     Faced with no other option than to see what lay outside, he made his way over to the panel on the wall holding the emergency supplies that had, luckily, not been damaged by the fire. He smashed the glass panel and pulled the bag out from within, brushing the glass shards off and carefully removing one that had become embedded in the side of his hand. Casting it aside, he slung the pack onto his back and clambered over to the door on the side. He pulled it open, and with a loud groaning and another flash of sparks, it creaked open.

     The inky blackness of the night sky spilled into the wreck, the dim light of the three moons overhead providing little illumination on the dark landscape. He climbed over the edge and jumped down to the ground several feet below, landing with the fluid grace of a cat. He stood up and tried to take stock of his surroundings, but he found he could not see much more than the few yards ahead of him that were illuminated by the dim fire burning from the engines of his craft. The only other source of light apart from the wreck of his shuttle and the faint light of the stars and moons in the sky above was a faint far-off glow, as though of some complex or city. He turned away from the battered wreck and started to march towards the hazy light in the distance. If there was an answer, he’d find it there.