Dust

Five: Name and Date

Another day ticks by slowly, with only one and a half water bottles left. My ghost's burns have receded significantly, and the inklings of a face are now visible through the wounds. We don't talk that much, merely sitting in a silent kind of horror as we wait for either our freedom or our deaths. I try to ask him about where he came from, but he merely offers a rueful smile and tells me to save it for later. After all, information is of no use after you're dead. Callista and Felix leave for work eventually, but my family and Mikhail all remain by the glass. Thea joins them at about midday, horror stretched across her features. She didn't think I'd let myself get stuck with my ghost in here. Lockman drops by every few hours to check up on us, and seems to be pondering on our fates. Should my ghost heal, and I stay uninjured, the radiation poses no threat to anyone within the dome.

"How long do you think we'll be in here?" I ask, more to myself, but my ghost decides to answer anyway.

"You live here. If anyone'd know, it'd be you." he says with a chuckle, eyes closed as he tries to retain his strength. I unzip my backpack and pull out a cloth again, cleaning his face up a bit more before he takes it and continues himself. Leaving him to it, I face the inside again. My home. The place I was born, the place I was raised, and now the place where I could die. Suddenly, I spring to my feet, seeing Lockman and a few guards coming towards us. My mother and father stand to speak with him, and my eyes meet those of my brother. He looks afraid, his arm trembling slightly against Thea's shoulders. They're disappointed in me. And why wouldn't they be? I could die for the sake of my own curiosity. Lockman steps past my mother and father, approaching the glass. Tapping twice to catch my attention, (stupid, really, since he already has it) he points a bony finger at my ghost. I glance back at the boy, and kneel next to him.

"Stand up, ghost. Show him you can stay on your feet,"

"Barely," he laughs, as I hoist him up into a sitting position. With a grunt of effort, he stands up, leaning on my shoulder for support. His torn, blood-stained white shirt and ragged khaki cargo pants make him look like the dead ghost of Indiana Jones, without the trademark hat and whip. With a pained grin, he waves slightly at Lockman's unusually stern form. The president merely looks him over, ignoring any attempt at communication.

"He seems horrible," he whispers, and I fight the smile that threatens to spread across my face. With a curt nod, Lockman turns away, taking my parents with him. As soon as the man's back is turned, my ghost crumples, and I nearly drop him. At probably twice my weight and considerably taller than I, my attempts to break his fall are practically useless. Thankfully, he lands in the area I had already mostly cleared of glass. With a groan of pain, he winces, rolling his shoulders to avoid a shard of glass beneath his shoulder. I cringe, not wanting him to get hurt any further, but am mesmerized by the argument ensuing outside the doors. I see three people running towards us, and I immediately register them as Felix, Callista, and Mikhail. They slow down upon seeing Lockman engrossed in conversation with my parents, but they push towards the glass anyway. I force a crooked smile at them, and Callista grins a little. She glances backwards, and then steps away from the glass as Lockman approaches. Over his shoulder, Mikhail waits, a worried expression plastered onto his face.

In a gut wrenching moment, Lockman pulls out his keycard, hesitates, and then touches it to the control panel. With a hiss, it slides open, and I stumble out into my mother's arms. Before I can stop myself, I sob openly on her shoulder, crying like I'd never done before. I'm out. I'm not going to die yet.

"It's okay, it's okay. You're safe now," she whispers upon releasing me moments later. I turn to my father, and hug him quickly. I try to pull away, but he doesn't let me go. The first time he's ever really hugged me. Up until now, his embraces had merely been gestures of greeting rather than those of affection. As soon as he releases me, tears trickling down his face, Titus pulls me into a stifling embrace.