139 Years to the End of the World

Year One, Part Four

They called it the Cryo-Tube. That's the name of the machine they'll use to freeze me. It sounded like some exotic dildo if you asked me. Joan and I walked hand in hand as we followed Professor Leah and Agent G down a long, white, spotless corridor. Even the floors were tiled white. A small black spot marked the end in the distant. Fifteen stories underground, the temperature chilled and the environment felt damp. Joan shivered and I took off my grey jacket and gently wrapped it around her.

"Your daughter and parents are waiting in the main chamber," Leah explained as our footsteps echoed down the hall. "That's where the Cryo-Tube will be stored at."

About two minutes into the walking; we could see a metal door at the end of path. Though from the distance, I judged we were only halfway there. It could have just been me and my new legs slowing everyone down. They were strong enough to walk now but moved stiffly, with a little wobble in the left with every step. I'm sure the plastic grating against my flesh would have hurt, but without the ability to feel pain, it became just a minor thought in the back of my mind.

Joan asked, "It's quite a walk isn't it?"

"Apologies," Leah replied. "We needed to access the underground river for the energy needed to power the Cryo-Tube. And this depth meant a more stable surrounding temperature, allowing us to better control the freezing temperature."

"Good, good," I replied blankly, nodding my head in a dumb daze. I didn't fully understand the explanation but the professor sounded really confident. I like that in people attempting to preserve my life.

We walked the rest of the way in silence. I admit that by the time we had reached the end of the hallway, I was panting a little. Can't really blame my stamina for that though. I'm dying. It's the way that works.

Leah placed her palm flat on a scanner on the left of the metal door and G did the same with another on the right. A soft beep from both machines cleared us to enter. The door made a rough grinding noise and descended into the ground, coming to a thumping halt once it levelled with the floor.

G bowed exaggeratedly and directed us in with a cheeky grin. "This way."

Once across the threshold, I heard the sound of sandals slapping the floor and found myself assaulted by a pint-sized girl, no taller than my chest. Her long auburn hair flailed wildly as Leila, my seven years old precious foster daughter came charging into my chest for a hug.

Expectedly, I began to fall backwards, my legs not strong enough to hold her weight. Joan however, placed a supportive arm behind me. I looked to her and she smiled reassuringly. Stabling myself with her help, I grinned back like an idiot.

"Daddy! This place is so cold!" Leila exclaimed excitedly, looking up at me with her hazel eyes and bubbly chin, her smooth, white face like that of soap. She had her hands wrapped in a pink cotton mitten, and wore an oversized leather jacket that reached down to her knees. The sleeves were rolled up to her elbow and she looked like, well, there's no other way to say this, a cute little hobo. "It's like Hillbury."

I bent over and snuggled my nose in her hair, "Your favourite-test place ever!" We had taken a trip to Hillbury last year and saw snow for the first time. Leila was ecstatic. Even in the freezing temperature, she would drag me and Joan out to build snowmen and have snowball fights.

She giggled as I jokingly blew into her scalp. Softly, she repeated, "Favourite-test."

Looking up, I saw my parents walking towards me followed by Agent Matthews. My father, James Jones, wore a white singlet and jeans, having given his jacket to Leila. His whitening hair had receded to the point where half his scalp was visible. Unlike most men, he made no attempts to hide it, leaving his hair sloping to the sides. The muscles that once held up his rugged face had loosen, his skin having tightened till it outlined his bone structure. Thin but not frail, his hardened construction worker frame still lingered.