Beyond Nothing

Chapter Two

I open my eyes to a bright, pale light – for a moment, I go back to thinking I'm dead, but then my eyes adjust and I realize it's only the sun. I sit up, but it's too soon. Bright sparks of pain dance down my back and arms, shadows darting over my vision. Slowly, I lower myself back down again, resting my head on soft, thick grass.

I take the chance to look around me. Trees arch overhead, unfamiliar leaves shielding me from the majority of the sunlight. Feathery blossoms of a pale, pinkish red rest among the green branches.

A bird flies over my head, dark against the purple sky, shadow flitting over the ground. I squint, and think I catch the sun sparking on something bright and smooth. The bird wheels, landing in the tree above me and staring curiously down, and I realize it isn't a bird at all. Although it is vaguely the same shape, its wings are shining fins that float around its body, lifting in the breeze. Scales cover it, glittering blue and purple in the light – these are what I saw before. A long tail falls behind it, a waterfall of tissue-paper like strips. I try pushing myself up again, and it takes flight, those flimsy fins strong enough to push it into the air in a burst of fragile colour.

This time, I make it to my feet, staggering until I hit a tree. There, I rest for a minute, my hands splayed against the light green bark. It is rubbery beneath my fingers, and smooth, giving slightly beneath my weight. When I manage to stand, leaning away from it, the indents left by my hands remain for a few seconds before they begin to fade.

Where am I? This is like no place I have ever heard of, outside fantasy.

I turn, still wobbly but getting better, still with pain flickering over my body but doing my best to ignore it. My shuttle lies half in, half out of the earth, smouldering branches scattered around it. It created a deep rut when it crashed, destroying a long strip of mossy grass, and I wonder how I wasn't killed. The exterior is scorched and cracked, paint peeling and glass shattered. I see that the hatch is open – could I have crawled to safety, passed out on the grass and forgotten? That doesn't seem like me.

Something touches my shoulder, and I yelp, trying to turn too fast for my weak body. My legs give way beneath me, and I crouch on the ground, staring up at the creature above me.

Now, I know for sure that I am not on Earth. For I am face to face with an alien.

It seems reptilian in nature, with a long, flat face, reminiscent of a dogs muzzle but covered in silver-grey scales. Its eyes are long and thin, with yellow irises and huge, dark pupils. Twin crests stretch in ridges above them, reaching back behind it and beyond where I can see. It bends, putting its face close to mine. Opening its mouth, it speaks: 'Hello. Are you alright?'

In response, I scream. It leaps back in shock, a long tail swinging from behind it to help it keep its balance. I do not get to see its reaction beyond this, as I turn tail and run as fast as my damaged body will let me.

My legs burn, and before long I feel as if I'm being stabbed in the chest with each breath. This is the most physical exercise I've done since I found out about my illness.

I read somewhere that, only forty years ago, my disease didn't even exist. It lay, dormant, buried in ice. But the ice melted, and the disease was released to the world. In a tiny time span, it gained a greater mortality rate than any known before.

It was named The Red Death, with some jokingly calling it the Black Death's Revenge. Scientists, who like to stick to their professional names, called it ratio mortis, which translates to system failure. Which system exactly is not specified, as eventually it affects them all. I'm in the early stages, so it has not yet spread to my heart or intestines, staying in my lungs for now.