The Melting point.
695 Words
"Stop touching the walls! You're going to weld us inside!" Cameron yelled, his voice echoing off the narrow metal sides of the ventilation duct.
"I’m trying! I can't control it!" Brittany cried back. She was crawling behind him, and everywhere her knees touched the metal, it turned cherry-red. The smell of burning oil and melting zinc was becoming suffocating.
"If you melt this duct, we fall into a trash compactor. Focus, Princess! Pull the heat back in!"
"You think I want to be a human torch? My father did this to me! He turned me into this!"
Cameron stopped crawling and swung his head around. In the cramped, dark space, her face was inches from his. Her golden eyes were leaking tears that turned into tiny puffs of steam before they could even hit her cheeks. The raw pain in her voice caught him off guard.
"Your father? The Architect of Solaris?"
"He wanted a battery for his city," she whispered, her glow dimming for a second as her voice broke. "He didn't want a daughter. He told me I was a failure because I couldn't hold the charge. He was going to recycle me, Cameron. That’s what that vault was. A recycling bin."
Cameron felt a cold knot tighten in his stomach. He’d lived his whole life thinking the people in the Heights were gods. Turns out they were just monsters with better clothes.
"Cry about it when we’re not in a metal oven," he snapped, though he didn't pull his hand away when her fingers brushed his sleeve. "We’re at the exit. It’s a long drop into the Lower Gut. I’ll go first, you land on me."
"You’ll break your ribs! You're just a human!"
"I’m a Light-Runner. We’re built out of spite and bad luck. Now on three. One... two..."
He kicked the grate out and plummeted. The air rushed past him, freezing and sharp, until—SLAM.
He hit a pile of discarded bio-plastics and rusted tech-scrap. The impact turned his vision white. A second later, Brittany landed on top of him. Her body was like a furnace, the heat searing through his jacket, but he didn't push her off.
"You alive?" she whispered, her hair falling over his face like warm silk.
"Ask me... in an hour," Cameron wheezed, clutching his side. He sat up, shaking the spots from his eyes. "Jax, we’re down. Where’s the extraction?"
"I can't get the crawler into that sector, Cam! The Enforcers have blocked the main pipes. You have to move to the Neon District. And hurry—your heat signature is glowing on every satellite from here to the moon!"
"Great. No pressure." Cameron stood up, offering a hand to Brittany.
She took it, and this time, the heat didn't burn. It felt like a steady, pulsing heartbeat. But as they turned the corner of the alley, the shadows began to detach themselves from the walls.
A dozen Feral-Wastes, their skin translucent and eyes glowing a sickly red, surrounded them. They moved with a twitchy, predatory hunger, their nostrils flaring at the scent of the warmth radiating from Brittany.
"Look at that," the leader hissed, tapping a jagged bone-shiv against his palm. "A little piece of the sun, right here in the dirt. Imagine how many of us could stay warm if we just… took a piece of her."
Cameron drew his vibro-knife, the blade humming a low, threatening blue. "Step back, you ghouls. She’s my cargo, and I don't share."
"He’s one man," the Feral laughed, his jaw unhinging in a way that wasn't human. "And we are many. Kill the boy. Feast on the girl."
Cameron felt Brittany’s hand tighten on his arm. Her skin began to pulse with a blinding, rhythmic gold, the light reflecting off the rusted metal walls.
"I’m not cargo," she said, her voice dropping into a low, resonant tone that made the ground vibrate. "And I’m not a snack."
"Brittany, wait—" Cameron started, but the air around them suddenly ignited.
- Writer
