Page 14 of Black Mamba

It was probably nothing. I’d just been listening to the radio about nagas; of course I’m going to imagine seeing one. I grab hold of an old bottle of painkillers—one’s I found in my parent’s room—that’s sitting on the counter and fill the bathroom’s cup with water, plopping several pills in my mouth and washing them down. I brush my hair with my fingers when a wave of resentment and sorrow hits me.

Hungover and using painkillers for dumb reasons…

I punch the mirror, cracking it with my middle knuckle. Pain erupts in my hand and I gasp, cradling it to my chest. I bring my throbbing knuckle to my mouth to suck the blood now seeping from it. Glaring at my pallid face like it hit me instead of me hitting it, I can’t help but acknowledge that it looks better with a crack through it.

Without a glance outside to see if something is really out there, I leave the bathroom and flee to my room ashamed. I curl up on my bed, pulling the thick white comforter over my face, using the pain from my knuckle to distract me.

If they could see me now, Mom and Dad would be so proud.

This time—the tears don’t flow.

EIGHT

RISK AND CHANCE

Elena

I wake up to thudding—again—and voices seemingly calling out my name. My eyes snap open to the shadowy white ceiling of my room.

“Elena, are you there!?”

Dad?

I sit upright and notice the pile of clothes in the corner of my room and the empty bottles littering my bedside table.

“Hello?” I huff.

Not Dad. My shoulders deflate as I slide my feet off the bed and stand, proud I only wobble a little. Rubbing my temples, my head vaguely aches but I’m still a little light-headed. I need to eat, rehydrate, and take a shower. I stink.

I pick up a pink shirt from the ground and throw it over my tank. Fanning out my hair, I walk to the door with more courage today than I’ve had in the days past.

I made a vow to my parents on behalf of my sister last night. I’m not going to drink.

Today.

From this point on, I’m going to try and stay sober, at least for as long as I can bear. I owe it to my family to put some effort into surviving this nightmare.

“Elena? Are you there?” Greg, or Levy, calls out, their voices faint and muffled by the walls of the ship. I think the ship’s AI is subtly amplifying them.

I forgot they told me they were going to check in on me. As prepared as I’m going to be, which is not at all, I leave my room and head to the front of the ship, bypassing the food replicator my stomach desperately wants me to approach.

Spotting Levy and Greg on the left, I briefly glance out the front. Finding the trees and brush empty and unassuming, relief hits me as I face the two men. They’re wearing the same clothes as yesterday except Levy’s no longer in a jacket. He’s wearing a short-sleeved blue shirt that fits his form. His toned muscles are outlined and visible. Greg still has his rifle over his shoulder. Their faces are pinker today. Scruffier too.

They shuffle on their feet when they spot me walking toward them.

“There you are,” Levy yells when I stop a short distance away from the glass. “We were beginning to worry!”

“I was sleeping.”

“We figured that could be the case. It’s pretty early in the day still.”

Both men squint at me. Feeling their curious gazes, I shift on my bare feet, suddenly wishing I’d put on socks. Wiggling my toes, their exposure makes me feel vulnerable.

“Are you and your brother still doing okay in there?” Levy asks. “We’re not here to bother you. We just want to make sure you’re okay.”

I nod. “We’re fine. He’s still asleep, still recovering.”

Levy nods in return. “Well, if you’re interested, because it will come in handy if help doesn’t arrive as soon as we need it to, Greg and I found a river and small lake past our ships where the ground slopes.” He tilts his head to the right. “The water is fresh. Clear all the way to the bottom. Unirradiated. We saw it when our ship came down and it’s much closer than you would think. It’s enough water for everyone. We won’t run out.”