A Lone Pigeon
“Charlie…” crackled the radio through tough static and a weakened audio interface. “They’re all around me now.”
“Hold in there, Dutch,” Charlie replied in a loud anxious tone through his own microphone attached to his dashboard. “I’m only point four awes’ away.”
Sweat beaded down Charlie’s forehead as he eyed the low levels shown on the fuel gauge. Even with inertia, Cattlehorn, Charlie’s planet-hopper couldn’t make it in time. He couldn’t make it in time. The Red Runners would kill Dutch and there was nothing he could do. The pit in Charlie’s stomach twisted reminding him of Vanessa’s death. Another time he was left unable to save the ones he loved.
“You don’t get it, Charlie…” the radio crackled again. “This was how it was always meant to be.”
“Just shut up, dammit!” Charlie shouted as he looked back at the scanner, hoping to see a recognizable blip, but nothing ever did. “Try to lose them somehow. Buy me some time!”
“No fuel left, kiddo…” replied the scratchy radio with a tinge of fatherly compassion. “Do you remember the pigeons?”
“No,” lied Charlie. “Now stop that talk. You have vents, build some inertia.”
“Yeah, you do. Out on Ceres.”
“I don’t remember nothing from Ceres,” cried Charlie with desperation. “God dammit Dutch, at least try!”
There was hesitation on the radio. Charlie stared back at the audio wave screen, seeing nothing but static. Every moment that Dutch said nothing felt like a lifetime. The twisting inside Charlie’s stomach painfully lurched in every direction. He could feel the sweat start to drip down his eyebrows, making him wish he could wipe it away, but he dared not tear his hands from the engine’s controls. He needed every moment of acceleration he could get. If only Dutch would hold on a little longer.
“You have to let that pigeon go, Charlie…” the radio finally said, barely with any life left. “You’ll get the whole flock killed.”
“We saved those damn pigeons, Dutch. We saved them!” shouted Charlie angrily. “You remember that part too, right? Only together did we save them.”
“Not this time, kiddo,” replied the radio. “They’re on me now. Its…” the radio dipped out into static. “Its…”
“Dutch!” Charlie shouted, but there was no reply.
There was a flash of light in the far distance of the exterior view screen. A lone blip of light in the darkness of space. Charlie’s eyes watched it in disbelief. His glance shot back to the scanner, then the fuel gauge. He pressed his lips and uncontrollably shifted them in and out of each other. His hands seized in place. His mind buzzed like the static of the radio. Every sensation felt like a million, but he could do nothing. Cattlehorn had run out of fuel and there were no blips in sight. All that was left was his emptiness.
Charlie’s head sank though his body remained tense. A small shiver began to grow in his nerves. And for the first time in his life, Charlie cried.
“Dutch…” he whispered. “Don’t leave me.”