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“Three down, three to go.”
Jim’s triumphant voice makes me smile. I’m sitting on Toby’s lap – there’s a lot of that happening today – nibbling on a chocolate biscuit. It’s a delicacy I haven’t had in months. We’re going all out today, celebrating life and death on Mars.
My lips are slightly swollen from passionately kissing Toby. My cheeks are slightly sore from his stubble rubbing against my skin, but that’s a price worth paying for a Toby kiss. He might be the best kisser of them all; not that I’m wanting to compare them.
He’s chosen a blue sling for his blackened arm today which looks like it’s made from some kind of floral fabric. We’ve made a game out of gifting him ridiculous slings that we’ve fashioned from the clothes of the dead. Macabre, perhaps, but it’s one of the ways we have to entertain ourselves. I personally love the pink one with tiny little pigs on it I made from someone’s pyjamas.
“Do you believe in Heaven?” he suddenly asks me. It’s not as if I haven’t thought about that in the past two days.
“I think there’s more,” I say slowly. “Not just this life. Not Heaven as such, maybe just a place for our energy to live on. Although I’d love a paradise with virgin men to corrupt. The six of you can watch.”
He playfully hits my shoulder. “No virgin corrupting for you. You’re ours, no other men allowed. Not even to watch.”
“Wrong. You’re mine. And you’re totally enough for me, don’t worry. Besides, I don’t have space for more than six in my bed.”
He throws his head back and laughs loudly, his chest vibrating against mine. I soak in the sound, so different from all the recent gloom.
“Agreed, it’s already quite crammed. Tell you what, if we survive this, I’ll build us a bigger bed.”
I snicker. “You’re terrible with DIY.”
He shrugs. “It can’t be that hard, just some nails and stuff like that.”
My chuckles turn into outright laughter.
“Leave it to one of the others. But you can be the first to try it out with me.”
He grins widely. “Pity we can’t do it now.”
“Yeah, pity. I’ve got one last biscuit trip to make.”
He opens his mouth wide in mock horror. “You’re leaving me?”
“Only for a moment. Bastian needs his biscuits, and then we’ll all assemble in our new control room anyway. See you there?”
He sighs and looks at his wrist. “I guess it’s time. Only half an hour to go. Bastian is cutting it close, so you’ve got my full permission to drag him away. Call me if you need some help.”
I smirk. “I’ll be sure to find some handcuffs.”
***
00:22
“Are you ready?” I ask Bastian, who’s standing on a stepladder, his head hidden behind a thick bundle of cables.
“No,” he grumbles, “I’d need at least another week to get this to a point where I’m confident it will work.”
“Sorry, I don’t have a week,” I reply more cheerful than I feel. “But I have a biscuit for you. With chocolate bits. It tastes amazing.”
“Want to see the bomb?”
I don’t tell him that I already snuck in the day he told us about it and stared at the cylinder with as much hate as I could muster.
I step on the ladder, but before I can climb up further, he hooks his arms under my shoulders and pulls me up until I’m level with him and can stand on a spoke. Wow, he’s strong.
He points at a glint of metal concealed behind a large silver pipe. “That’s the cylinder with the explosives, and here,” he lifts a few red cables, “is the timer.”
The large green digits are staring me in the face, the ominous two dots in the middle blinking alarmingly fast. Are seconds really this fast?
