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The drones caught me before my head hit the ground.
They drifted to one side, taking me a safe distance.
My back was to the vehicle and it was difficult to make out what’d happened.
I twisted in an attempt to get the drones to turn with me but they were at the wrong angle.
I growled, wishing I’d kept up with yoga classes.
Then I realized something.
Just because my legs were attached to the drones didn’t mean I couldn’t bend my knees and shift my weight.
I flexed one knee and used the extra leverage to peer over my shoulder at the vehicle.
The front corner lay partially buried in the sand and one of the glowing blue engines fizzled with sparks.
Looked like a malfunction, much like getting a flat.
I guess even futuristic technology failed from time to time.
“Can you fix it?” the leader said to the guard probing at it with his tools.
“I can,” he said. “But it’s going to take time.”
“How much time?”
Please say years, I thought.
“About five or six hours,” he said.
Hours didn’t feel like enough.
Enough for what? I wondered.
Enough to escape and get out of here.
I didn’t know how I could think that was a possibility but a spark burst into life in my heart.
It was a chance.
And a chance, no matter how slim, was always better than having none at all.
The prison guards set up camp in the middle of the desert.
The moons took turns in peeking out from behind their curtains of clouds.
A prison guard removed the metal manacles attached to my ankles.
It was an awkward and uncomfortable maneuver as he released first one leg, which I could barely bring to the desert floor, and then the other.
The drones took off immediately and swung in wide arcs around the camp.
The prison guard clapped off his hands and marched away to deal with something else.
None of the guards paid much attention to me and were busy carrying out their own tasks.
I peered into the darkness surrounding us and wondered if I could sneak into the night without them noticing.
