Excursion of the Dead


The copper smell of blood is sickeningly strong as soon as we step through the airlock. Even caked in and burnt to a cinder the crimson is overwhelming, a dark maroon beneath the glare of our flashlights.
“I don’t like this, not one bit” Sas says, his beam wavering in the darkness.
“Why would you?” I reply, my own light steady in the cold sweat of my hands, “We’re venturing into what we know to be a corpse-filled ship that has been hollowed out by an evil unheralded, unexplained, unimaginable.”
“That didn’t help, not one bit.”
Despite everything I smile. The ship groans somewhere deep in its bowels, nothing to it but an old machine retiring into dilapidation, but we both jump.
“It was nothing,” I say, pre-empting Sas’ rattled questions.
I know
We make our way through the dead ship, knowing we’ll never find anything but the charred corpses we’re stepping over. Lucky we’re not squeamish.
Secret: I am so squeamish.
I’ll never let him know it but Sas is so much better at all this than me. I ignore the everything infiltrating ever aspect of my senses. I can literally taste the death in the air. Ugh. My head is swimming in nausea but I plug on regardless, putting on a brave face. When the universe is under attack from this kind of evil, everyone needs to step up. We all make sacrifices.
We continue to explore.

AUTHOR’S NOTE:
Me and Maria are arguing. I proposed a TV show called ‘Poop Magoop’. It’s about a poop called Magoop. I think people would watch it. She does not. Your thoughts in an email to mail@joeblame.com

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~ by Joseph Blame on March 5, 2011.

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