Page 20 of Emerald

It’s my hair… somehow. And it’s limiting my movement.

Panic starts to creep back in as I realize how truly trapped I am.

But then I noticed something else—I'm stronger. My hands, which once struggled to make even a dent in the reinforced glass, now press with a force I never had before.

What the hell? Adrenaline?

I grit my teeth and push harder, using every ounce of strength I can muster. The glass groans under the pressure, but it's slow going. The pod was designed to keep us in, and even with my sudden strength, it's not easy to break out.

Just as I feel like I'm making progress, the ground beneath me shifts again.

"No, no, no!" I shout, but it's no use.

The shale beneath the pod gives way, and with a sickening lurch, the entire chamber starts to slide down the steep slope. I scream, clinging to the sides of the pod as it hurtles downward, faster and faster. Dirt and rocks spray up around me, and the world spins wildly as the pod careens out of control.

There's nothing I can do but hold on for dear life and pray that I don't get thrown around too much inside the chamber. Every jolt sends fresh waves of pain through my body, and I can feel another bruise forming on my already tender head as it bangs against the glass.

Finally, with one last bone-shaking crash, the pod slams into something solid at the bottom of some odd tunnel. The impact is enough to knock the breath out of me, and for a moment, I just lay there, dazed and disoriented. My head throbs painfully, and I can feel the darkness creeping in at the edges of my vision.

Not again.

I try to fight it, but the exhaustion is overwhelming, and despite my best efforts, my consciousness slips away, leaving me in darkness once more.

***

The world around me feels like it's spinning out of control, a whirlpool of dark shadows and dim, flickering lights. I'm barely conscious, teetering on the edge of oblivion when a sudden, sharp sound slices through the haze. A distant explosion? Or was it gunfire? My groggy mind can't tell the difference. Everything feels muffled, as if I'm underwater, with a thick, syrupy fog clogging my thoughts.

It occurs to me that I can no longer hear the electricity of the chamber. I’ve heard it my whole life, regardless of how many people told me that’s crazy, and the lack of it is unsettling. Especially if this chamber is keeping me alive in some sort of strange, alien environment.

Or am I on Earth?

I force my eyes open, but the effort is almost too much. My eyelids feel like they're made of lead, and the simple act of blinking sends the world reeling. The harsh contrast between the pitch-black surroundings and sporadic flashes of light strains my vision, making the throbbing in my head intensify. The cold metal of the cryo chamber is gone, replaced by a much more troubling sensation—a deep, stabbing pain right in the center of my skull.

Instinctively, I raise a hand to my forehead, hoping to soothe the ache. But as my fingers make contact with my skin, I feel something sharp and out of place—a small, jagged shard embedded in my flesh. A choked gasp escapes me as I realize what it is. Glass. There's a shard of glass lodged in my skull, a cruel souvenir from the chaotic fall. The skin around it is slick with blood, warm and sticky, trickling down in tiny rivulets.

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to will the pain away. But it's no use—the stabbing sensation flares every time my heart beats, sending ripples of agony through my already foggy mind. Frustration bubbles up inside me, mixing with the pain and disorientation. I can't think clearly, can't focus on anything except the maddening throb in my head.

"Damn it," I mutter through clenched teeth, my voice barely more than a whisper. I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. There's no room for fear or hesitation. Not now. With a sudden, rough motion, I grasp the shard of glass and yank it out.

The pain is white-hot, blinding in its intensity. For a second, the world narrows to a single point of excruciating agony, but then it starts to fade, replaced by a dull throb.

Damn. That probably wasn’t smart.

My vision clears just enough for me to take in my surroundings. I'm partially out of the pod. It's cracked and twisted from the fall, the once-pristine glass shattered into dangerous shards. The air is thick with the acrid stench of smoke and burned electronics, making it hard to breathe. I need to get out of here.

I push myself up, trying to orient myself, but the world tilts dangerously. My head feels like it's full of thick syrup, every movement sluggish and delayed. I blink, trying to shake off the grogginess, but it's no use.

Just as I'm about to try and stand, a sound cuts through the haze—a strange, wet, squelching noise, growing louder by the second. My heart skips a beat, and I turn my head slowly, trying to locate the source. The movement makes me dizzy, and for a moment, I have to brace myself against the side of the pod to keep from toppling over.

When I finally manage to look up through the opening above me. My breath catches in my throat. A horde of alien creatures is rushing down the slope toward me. They're like nothing I've ever seen before, their bodies made entirely of some kind of pink, gelatinous substance. They move with a sickening fluidity, undulating and shifting as they swarm closer. Panic grips me, my muscles tensing involuntarily.

I need to get out of here—now.

With a surge of adrenaline, I push open the cracked door of the pod and stumble out. My feet hit the uneven ground, and immediately, I lose my balance. My head is still spinning, the concussion making it impossible to coordinate my movements. I try to catch myself, but my legs give out from under me, and I crash face-first into the rocks.

The impact jars my already throbbing head, sending fresh waves of pain through my skull. For a moment, I just lay there, stunned, my face pressed into the cold, damp ground. The world around me feels distant, and unreal, like I'm trapped in a nightmare that I can't wake up from.

But the sound of the approaching creatures snaps me back to reality. I push myself up onto my hands and knees, coughing as I try to get air back into my lungs. My vision swims, but I can't afford to stay down. I force myself to my feet, swaying unsteadily as I try to get my bearings.

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