Dust

Three: Ghosts Don't Bleed

For several long minutes, Mikhail and I wander aimlessly around the dome, with no sign of our ghost or even life of any sort present. Several minutes and a long walk later, I hear him sighing in frustration behind me. From what I can read off of him, Mikhail is easily stressed with tense situations. I work the opposite way; the tenser the situation, the clearer and more logical my decisions become. It's a bad thing sometimes, since I'm often perfectly okay with chaos.

"Ari, our ghost couldn't have gone too far. He'd be back the other way if anything." he sighs, obviously stressed. I nod slowly, unsure of what else to do. The news of the handprint will spread like wildfire. No matter what happens, ghost or no ghost, things will change within the dome now. That much is unavoidable.

"Come on. We can keep looking later," Mikhail says, and I nod. I can come back to look by myself later on.

"Yeah. Okay." I sigh, and follow him as he turns the other way.

We return to the place where the handprint still remains, but the crowd has been dispersed somewhat. Lockman probably has sent away as much of the crowd as he can. My mother and Titus are still there, but my father has probably gone off to enjoy his free time. Everyone seems so unsurprised by this situation that I begin to wonder if they know something I don't. Unsure of what to do other than wait and think, I return to my seat on the steps. My mind wanders to wild possibilities. What if there are some monster/human hybrids out there? What if our "ghost" is actually just one of us who somehow got outside? What if there are other people alive out there, somehow? Mikhail sits next to me on the stairs again, but I can only stare at the handprint left on the glass.

"I've gotta go to work soon." he tells me, expecting a reaction.

"I know." I tell him, not really having anything to say. The blonde boy merely stares forward at the sky above, and the sun that rises higher and higher to its surface. He looks dissappointed. Sorry, bud. I'm not very romantic. At all.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" he asks, but before I can answer, an idea pops into my head.

I whirl around, eyes widening in horror. Mikhail follows my gaze, but merely looks puzzled.

"What are you looking at?" he questions, skeptical. I don't even hear his voice as I rise to my feet again.

The gate. Our ghost is probably waiting at the door.

Darting into a sprint, I take off towards the airlock, hearing Mikhail let out a sigh of frustration as he follows. Near the entrance to the dome, I slide to a halt, placing my hands on the first door into the airlock. Three doors block the path to the outside, with two about four feet apart and then a maybe ten foot long oxygen chamber beyond it. A final door is the only blockage from the radiation soaked earth beyond.

"He must be near the outside door," I breathe, and Mikhail comes to a halt next to me.

"You think so?" he questions, less annoyed and more curious now.

"Logically, if you were outside, what's the first thing you would look for?" I ask, glancing over at my friend.

"A door." he pants, and I motion towards the said object. It merely stands there, resolute and menacing. The only barrier that keeps up from death. The only barrier potentially keeping our ghost from life.

"Can we get it open?" he asks me, and I shrug. Titus could. My father could. Lockman could. I can't.

Yet.

"How willing are you to try?" I question, an impish grin spreading involuntarily across my face.

"You will do no such thing!" my mother shouts, approaching from behind us. Oops. Hey mom.