One Thousand Miles - Chapter Forty Five

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A burning sensation clashed with the freezing cold, sending a spike of excruciating pain up Arva's side that jolted her awake. She gasped for air, her throat felt dry, and she could just barely see her breath as she exhaled. It was cold, and her entire body was stiff. She tried to get up, but was too weak, or too frozen. She felt around the cockpit with her free hand, and everything was ice cold. She rolled onto her back painfully and tried to reach the screens. She touched them, but they didn't activate, so she took a deep breath and adjusted herself into the harness. Her side was in pain, and she tried to let go of it, but her hand was stuck. Her blood had frozen her hand over her wound, and it hurt to even move it. Suddenly a hot wash of panic came over her as things started to settle in. She was alone, lost in the wasteland after a fall, she was bleeding and frozen, with no one to call for help. She could very well die.

"Oh God..." Arva said, trembling. Fear and freezing caused her body to shake uncontrollably, and she wondered if she had hypothermia. She must have, or had gone into shock. Either way was bad. She tried to fit herself properly into the harness, hoping if Antumbra reactivated it could warm her. She knew it had temperature control, but the harness refused to take hold. It was entirely lifeless.

"Come on," she slammed her arms and legs against the pads, "come on!" Nothing happened, and Arva slumped her head back as she wept in frustration, slamming her fist against the harness. She heaved, her breath still visible in front of her, which was good. It meant she was still warmer than the air in the cockpit. Whether that meant she was safe from the cold or not was uncertain, as her hand was still stuck to her side. She looked around the interior for anything that could help her. She didn't keep any supplies in Antumbra, which she now realized was a mistake, and it didn't have any loose tools or anything besides the harness and the screens on the inside of the hatch. She looked down, seeing only the foot rests for the harness and the flight pedals, then looked up, seeing nothing obvious. She reached up and felt with her hands, felt for any sort of panel or hatch that may hold something, and to her surprise there was. It was a small square door, and she dug her fingernails into the seam of its edge, tugging each side until it popped open, but there were no supplies inside. Instead it was a panel with several switches. About half were in opposite directions, and two were halfway flipped.

"A breaker?" Arva mumbled to herself. It certainly looked like the one in her house, so she flipped all the switches to one side, and nothing happened. She breathed, and flipped them the opposite direction, and there was a deep hum through the suit. The cockpit was lit, and the screens came back on.

"Yes!" Arva cried, "oh thank God, yes!" She tapped the screens. Information scrolled past with progress bars as systems returned, but she didn't care. All she wanted was the temperature function, and going by memory she selected it from a menu and quickly cranked it up. In moments the cockpit began to warm, and the harness began to move. It didn't affix itself to her, however, almost like it couldn't find her, so she tried to line herself up to it instead. It wrapped around her legs and body, then her right arm, but couldn't seem to find her left. Arva tried to move it, but it was still stuck, so she took a deep breath and grabbed her left index finger with her right hand. She pulled, and a peeling, searing pain shot up her side. She screamed and stopped, panting as the pain subsided. She rolled up her shirt and wadded it up into her mouth, biting down on it hard, and prepared to try again. She gripped her finger and pulled, the unbearable pain attacking her again. Her scream was muffled as she bit on the fabric, tears in her eyes as she tried with all her strength not to give up, and managed to pull her finger free. She quickly moved onto the next one, not wanting to wait between them, and pulled. One by one she un-stuck her hand, until her arm flew away as her mouth fell open. It hurt so much she didn't make a sound, and blood squirted from the wound. She pulled her shirt down over it to try and stop the bleeding as best she could, and quickly rested her left arm against the harness. Antumbra shuddered as she assumed control, and slapped her hand back against her side, the Argonaut shuddering as it mimicked the hasty motion. Her perspective shifted, and she assumed the point of view of the suit as she sat up. Snow and ice fell off of her as if she'd been buried, and she felt the joints of her Argonaut crunch as they moved.

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