The Escape

He crawled across the open field, stopping behind the wrecked vehicles for cover, moving quietly past a burned-out building. The drone scanners flew low reconnaissance across the battlefield. Night approached mercifully quieting the laser cannons. Separated from his platoon, he sought a refuge for tonight, with the hope of finding a way back to the caves where the battalion had dug in. He approached a huge crater ringed by a smoldering ring of smoking vegetation. He rolled down the slope and waited as the sky turned to ink. He pulled his red and green jacket tight to his neck. He checked the digital display of his watch, he noted the date, July 3, 2063. A half smile turned up the corner of his mouth. How ironic, the anniversary of Gettysburg.

Exhaustion settled over him like a water-logged blanket. He drifted between sleep and half awareness. Loose rock and sand fell on him from above. Someone or something moved at the edge of the crater. A dark form fell across him, knocking him over.

He drew his side arm. “Hold it right there! Don’t move!” His arm shook but the green scope beam focused on the dirt covered face of a young infantryman.

“No worries, my gun’s disabled. Don’t shoot! Just let me move on.” The young man’s silver and black uniform outlined his thin frame. “I’m a deserter. Let me go.”

“Why are you out here? My lines aren’t too far. You’re headed the wrong way.” He stood up and moved a few feet down the slope. “I should take you prisoner.”

“Please let me go. I am meeting my people at the beach. We’re getting out of here. Far away. We have a plan to escape this.” The young man’s voice sounded clear with determination and hope.

“Where the hell are you going to go? The war is everywhere now. Nothing is left. Food is running out. All the cities are trashed. No drinkable water. Pretty soon only the drones will have ammo. They’ll be hunting us all down. Both armies are collapsing.” He lowered his gun. “Let’s talk about this.”

“I’ve had enough of killing. My group is heading out. To a place far away. Where we can live again. No one can win this. Can you tell me if anyone won?”

“No, I can’t. What’s your name? Who are you with?”

“Nash, John Nash. U Con States Marines. What should I call you?” said Nash.

“Young. Field Officer of the WPA, but you can see that, can’t you?” said Young.

Nash pulled some purple berries from his pocket and offered some to Young. He could see Young’s vacant stare of hunger. But he seemed hesitant. “Don’t worry. They’re good. I’ve been eating them for 6 or 7 days now, haven’t got sick once. Doesn’t the Western Progressive Alliance use these?”

“I’m not used to United Conservative States rations. Thanks.” Young scooped up the protein energy spheres. He hadn’t eaten in 48 hours. “Let’s make a deal—I won’t kill you if you won’t kill me. We both need sleep. We can move on in the morning.”

“Deal,” said Nash. He nestled into a small shrub nearby. “If I were you, I’d come with us. We are gathering recruits from both sides. We can take over 500. If you have any skills other than firing a blaster, we need you.”

“I was a mechanical engineer, when there was a use for it,” said Young. “I’d love a new start. You’re not bull shitting me, are you? Do you really have a place to go?”

***

The early morning light crept over the craters edge. Both men shook themselves and stood up. They heard the whirring noise of a drone and quickly flattened to the ground. When it had passed, they shook the dust off and started to move out.

Young spoke first, “If this is for real, I need to go back for my wife and daughter. They are in the caves back at our main line.”

“You need to get them quick. Departure is set for tomorrow,” said Nash.

They picked their way through the debris of the battle field, passing twisted forms of tanks and jeeps, a blackened crash site of a small aircraft, and a drone crashed up against an oak tree. They found a canyon opening to foothills to the west and followed a creek up hill towards the WPA encampment. They approached through an aspen grove to the mouth of a large cave.

“Stay here. I will get my wife and daughter and come back in one hour.” Young committed himself to leaving the army. He had no more energy left for war. Now, saving his family mattered most.

Young returned in 30 minutes, his wife and daughter in hand. They followed Nash as he set the trail for the beach. “Stay close, we need to move quickly. Don’t fall behind,” said Nash. In three hours, they descended a gorge to a cove with a sandy beach. A large opening in the coastal cliffs, nearly 300 feet high, commanded the beach below. Railroad tracks connected the beach and the giant opening. Nash led them towards four guards at the entrance to the cavern. “They’re good. Joining up.”

They walked along the tracks and were stopped by a stunning sight—at the end of the tracks a huge metal scaffolding surrounded a large aircraft set vertically on a platform. The craft had discernable sections with folded arrays of honeycombed glassy wings.

“Yeah, pretty amazing, isn’t it?” said Nash. “We’ve been working on it for years. The worse things got; the more people came to help.”

Young and his wife were questioned by several people and finally an older man in a fading UCS uniform with a regal shoulder patch pulled them aside. “Your accepted. If our flight is successful, you will be assigned to the engineering team. You can find your space suit and personal supplies at Station 6.” He motioned them to a caged supply area.

Young’s wife turned to Nash. “Where are we going? What will be there?”

“Mars. The abandoned colony. We are going to bring it back to life.” Nash’s eyes shone with the thought of it. “We know that supplies were left behind and the air supply machines are intact. Many of the last colonists are with us.”

The next morning, they mounted the scaffolding and walked through one of several passenger doors. Supplies were loaded into huge storage compartments at the base of the spaceship. Young and his family settled into the long rows of rotating seats inside the ship. Their fellow passengers appeared calm and confident, as if they had practiced the departure for months.

When the ship was full, the scaffolding fell away and the platform moved slowly along the tracks. The ship stopped near the waters edge. They heard the slow rumble of the engines. A dust cloud of sand rose around them. The craft lifted off and the G force pushed them into their seats. Soon they had achieved earth orbit and the sky disappeared into the darkness of space.

Their seats adjusted to the inclination angles of the spaceship and small computer screens lit up with a view of the planet. The ship began to angle away from earth orbit. On the small screens they could see a disturbance in the atmosphere. Long orange and red lights were flashing on the ground below. An array of intense explosions of light. Nuclear explosions.

Tears flowed in Young’s eyes. They began to move away from earth into the Martian flight pattern. He looked at his wife. “We are leaving it behind. It’s gone. We’ll find our way.”

As the ship left orbit, the honeycombed solar arrays deployed. On this side or earth, they felt a gentle push of solar wind against the series of three structures. They looked like sails, the spacecraft a clipper ship, cruising through a black sea.

The journey began.