Page 15 of A Long Way Home

The room shakes. I’m lurching several feet forward, ragdolling through Columbus.

Racks of test tubes shunt forward, shattering as the fridge doors halt their escape. Fluids seep between the glass shards like a perversion of a lava lamp.

One of the large white cargo bags thrashes in the turbulence. It pulls forward with enough force to tear itself away from its velcro bindings, setting it on a direct collision course with me.

“Fuck.” It hits me with the fury of a heavyweight gut punch, altering my trajectory and thrusting me against the corner of a steel counter.

I gasp as all the breath whooshes from my lungs, before another lurch has me scraping along the equipment rack on the back wall.

Adrenaline lances through my veins. My brain rattles against my skull. My body pinballs through Columbus. My arm smacks on a handhold bar. Pain shoots along my nerves, lancing up into my elbow. I clutch it to my chest. My whole body burns. I try to gulp some air back into my lungs.

Inhale. Exhale.Don’t panic.Slow breaths.

In. Out. In. Out.

“Incoming meteor storm,” Anderson shouts out through the comms, though I can hear his panicked cry echoing through the station. “Brace for impact.”

Bloody Hell.

Time to panic.

I scramble to orientate myself. My ribs complain against the movement as I tuck one foot under the bar just as the first wave of burning rocks starts pelting the station.There could be thousands of them.

Or worse, one of those micro meteors. As deadly as they are rare.

I try not to imagine the carnage. Ignoring the memories pulling forward of the small cluster of themthat took out two modules and half the Solar Array of the Chinese Tiangong Space Station. That was only last year. The three crew on board had to emergency evacuate to Earth.

Please, don’t let it be one of them.

My mind whirs, quickly running the numbers on how long the station’s air will last… Eighteen days. A generous estimate to be sure, depending on worst-case scenario conditions, but who really knows how–

A grunt from inside the open wall cavity.

Fuck. “Chelenko!”

I push off hard, the burn of my ribs quieting to a numb ache as I soar across the lab. I crash into the rack of equipment on the far wall. Glass beakers shatter from the impact, the shards floating inside their containers.

Reaching inside the open wall panel, I grab his flight suit and pull hard.

A deep crimson gash covers the side of his head. The blood beads off and drifts away in a stream of dark bubbles.

“Still with me, Chelenko?” I squeeze both his hands with mine. He squeezes back, his grasp weak.

“Come on, you can do better than that.”.

He squeezes again, harder this time, but still far weaker than he should.

“Don’t worry about hurting my delicate female fingers.”

He laughs, splutters, coughing up blood. Too much blood. The beads collect between his teeth and gums. Escaping in small bursts of bubbles with each cough. One hits me on the cheek, clinging to my skin a moment before sliding away.

Fuck.“Well, that’s no good, Comrade.”

He grunts acknowledgement.

“Impact in five… four… three… two…”The comms crackle.

“No time for pleasantries. This will hurt. You’re going to have to trust me.”

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