I stared at the flickering screen, my name glowing in harsh red letters.
[Tessa Cayne]
I had gotten the most votes. The weight of what that meant made my heart sink—I had to leave the Community, the only home I had ever known, and venture to the toxic wasteland above. It was a death sentence.
In the oppressive silence in the room, I stood frozen in shock. I could feel the eyes of everyone in the room on me, some filled with pity, others with relief that it wasn't them. I felt dizzy, the edges of my vision darkening. This couldn't be real. There had to be some mistake.
"Tessa Cayne, please report to the airlock chamber immediately for decontamination and surface departure preparations." The computerized voice echoed through the underground hall, cold and apathetic.
I felt a sudden warmth on my wrist. My best friend Liam had grabbed my hand, his fingers trembling against my skin.
"Tessa, I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice choked. "I didn't want this to happen. I never thought..."
A sickening realization hit me, and I pulled my hand from his grasp as if burned.
"Liam, did you... did you vote for me?" My voice was barely a whisper, but it seemed to echo in the stillness of the cavern.
Liam's face paled, and he opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. His silence was all the confirmation I needed.
"How could you?" I demanded, my voice rising with each word. "After everything we've been through together, how could you?"
Tears streamed down Liam's face as he tried to reach for me again. "Tessa, please, let me explain—"
But I couldn't bear to hear his excuses. I pushed past him, ignoring the murmurs and stares of the others as I made my way toward the airlock chamber. Some reached out to touch my shoulder or arm as I passed, murmuring condolences. But their words washed over me, meaningless.
At the entrance to the airlock chamber, I paused and turned to face the Community one last time. Hundreds of solemn faces stared back at me. These were the people I had lived with, worked with, laughed and cried with for twenty-three years. I had lived a hard life, but it was mine. And now it was being taken from me.
"Tessa Cayne, please report to the airlock chamber immediately." The voice repeated, more insistent this time.
With a final look, I turned on my heel and walked into the chamber. The heavy metal door clanged shut with a dreadful finality.
Standing in the stark white, sterile airlock chamber, I felt my heart pounding against my ribcage. A robotic arm extended from the ceiling, holding a protective eco-suit that would filter the toxic air and shield me from the deadly radiation on the surface.
My hands shook as I zipped up the suit. I had never actually worn one before—there had never been any reason to. Fear churned in my stomach at the thought of the hostile world that waited above. Old photos showed a landscape straight out of hell—an endless expanse of cracked, barren earth, skeletal ruins of cities jutting toward a bloated red sun, withered plants, and twisted creatures borne of a radioactive wasteland.
No human could survive up there for long: only a few weeks, maybe a month or two at most. Once the eco-suit wore down—once the toxic air seeped fully into my lungs—I would die.
Alone and in agony.
Behind reinforced glass windows, Chancellors watched me calmly, their expressions inscrutable. One of them stood, pressing a button on the console in front of him. Chancellor Evans spoke into a microphone; his voice amplified through speakers in the airlock chamber.
"Tessa, you will always be remembered for your brave sacrifice," he intoned solemnly. "The Community thanks you."
I felt a flare of rage at his empty words. I didn't want to be remembered. I wanted to live. This was not brave, it was not a sacrifice. This was murder, thinly veiled under the guise of collective survival.
I stepped up to the thick glass separating me from the Chancellors. In a sudden burst of fury, I drew back my fist and slammed the glass with all my strength.
Boom.
The glass shuddered slightly under the force of my punch, sending vibrations up my arm. But it refused to yield, much like the cold, dispassionate eyes of the Chancellors on the other side. I could barely feel the pain blooming across my knuckles, my eco-suit's gloves doing nothing to soften the blow. Physical pain seemed so inconsequential now compared to the despair ripping through my heart.
A hiss of pneumatics drew my attention as a panel in the wall slid open behind me, revealing a small compartment. A paltry offering of supplies lay inside—ration packs, water pouches, a basic medkit, and a handheld radiation detector—as if any of it would make a difference in prolonging my life out there. It felt like a cruel joke, a mocking acknowledgment of my impending suffering.
"Surface gate opening," the computerized voice announced. "Good luck, Tessa, and may God bless your soul."
I closed my eyes as the seal broke with a hiss and a rush of hot, acrid air hit me. The harsh glare of the red sun flooded the corridor, stinging my eyes and forcing out tears.
Then, taking one last shuddering breath of filtered air, I stepped out of the only world I had ever known and into the hellish landscape above. The door shut behind me, its latches and gears locking into place with mechanical precision, sealing me off from the world I once called home.
I was alone in a dead world.
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