How The Hell Do We Get Out Of This?
Notes: I have applied for an ao3 account but until then I will be posting on tumblr (𖦹ˊ ᗜ ˋ𖦹)/ - Fic by me (FritzSplitz)
Colt wakes up on the hail mary and he has no idea who or where he is. or why he cares about someone called Ryland
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“Movement detected” the shrill sound of anything more audible than a whisper was like a baseball bat to the skull.
“What is two plus two?” a soft feminine voice called. My groan crackled in my dry throat as if the only essence of spit was bubbling at the bottom of my throat.
“Incorrect. What is two plus two?” the discharge coating my eyelashes acted as Velcro as I attempted open my eyes to take in my surroundings. My eyelids creep up and blinding light sears my retinas.
“Grnnnn” I grumble. I keep my eyes open with sheer force of will. Everything is white with shades of pain. “Eye movement detected,” the relentless feminine voice replies. “What is two plus two?” The whiteness lessens. My eyes are adjusting. I start to see shapes, but nothing sensible yet. Only to be shocked there wasn’t a blinding hospital light but rather a dim, cold metal tin roof staring back at me, alongside a white robotic arm prying its blue claws back at me.
A cough bubbles in my throat “W.. what?..”
“Incorrect. What is two plus two?”
A creaking sound escaping my throat as I creased my eyebrows at the question “uh.. f… four”
I’m sore but I can see. Taking in my surroundings I seem to be in a rather contained metal tin covered in over complicated technology and cameras facing back at me. Though my vision wasn’t clear enough to see the details.
Something similar to a sci-fi movie set.
Wait. Why did my brain automatically go to a movie set? No, I knew I like movies. Shit, that wasn’t important. I felt my oxygen heating up against my cheeks, I was wearing a plastic beathing mask. Not only that but a long cord seemed to be reaching all the way down my throat. Shouldn’t of they removed that first?
My phantom hand went to reach for the mask but obviously didn’t succeed. My arms felt as if they weighed 50 tons. I was tired and significantly weakened. I had to have been laying here for a long period of time. A VERY long time.
Was I in an accident? No, I have a feeling I know why I’m here. Though its not very ideal nor coming to me yet.
The arm pried itself closer to my face and began to remove the mask and the tube after giving me a few minutes to gain somewhat conciseness. It was an excruciatingly long process feeling the tube travel through my chest and throat, gagging and choking on my old spit.
With a splash of the residue hitting my face, I turned to cough and spit the remains with a groan as gravity hit my skull. My body was tired. Even after doing nothing but rest. I urgently needed more, little to the arms distaste.
“Wh.. where..?” I muffled under my overgrown beard.
The computer seemed to ignore my protest and hummed as it founds its way back to its original state. Leaving my exhaustion to fall over me again.
This time waking up was easier. I had been out a while; I could tell with the amount of energy my body had built over the time period. I looked around and my vision seemed to be fully restored. Bright computer screens beeping showing my health being critically monitored alongside 2 other screens with slower data beeping quietly.
I was winded. More monitored people? I’m not alone?
My eyes darted to the quiet claw thing as I opened my mouth to interrogate it. “H-Hey! Robot arm. Are there other people here? W-wherever I am. Wait, shit where the hell am I?”
The arm lowered towards my torso and started to begin a procedure of some sort within the cords covering my body. Huh I didn’t even notice that. I was fully naked and covered in medical cords that had been pumping fluids in almost every part of my body. EVERY part.
It clicked as if it was pondering my question. “Stable crew members on board the Hail Mary; Rozzum M. Jones, Ryland Grace and Colton Grace. End of manifest” she beeped as she took out the final tube from my body.
‘Ryland’. The name burned in my brain. Ryland. He was important, he was.. um he was… has.. the same name as me. Gay? Wait god no. Why did your mind jump straight to that?. He could be a relative. That felt more likely. ‘Rozzum’.. Roz. That clicked in my head too, a friend maybe? Different last name, maybe a coworker or someone who got involved in this.
Wait. ‘on board the Hail Mary’. What the fuck is the ‘Hail Mary’.
I wiggled my fingers and toes as a tester. I could move. I had willpower and the strength to do so, I may as well try and sit up. Which was unfortunately easier said than done.
It took all my will and strength but I powered through and eventually came to a slouched position hunched over my legs. My body was surprisingly healthy and toned for someone who had been laying here for so long. The bed quivered underneath me. It definitely wasn’t a normal bed.
I have a better view of things now. This is no ordinary hospital room. The walls looked alloy and the whole room is round. Stark-white light comes from ceiling-mounted LED lights, casting a somewhat angelic light in the sadly dimmed room. There are two more hammock-like beds mounted to the walls, each with their own patient. We are arranged in a triangle, and the roof-mounted arm of harassment are in the centre of the ceiling. I guess they take care of all three of us. I can’t see much of I’m guessing Ryland and Roz, they’ve sunken into their bedding like I had.
There are small vents here and there on the wall and I feel a little airflow. It could be a controlled environment, maybe we were sick with a disease and they were containing us?. No that’s absurd, I felt fine. I think.
I slide one leg off over the edge of my bed, which makes it wobble. The robot arms rush toward me. I flinch, but they stop short and hover nearby. I think they’re ready to grab me if I fall. “Full-body motion detected,” the computer says. “What’s your name?”
“C’mon really? It’s uh..” I had drawn a blank which in turn made my knuckles go white from how hard I had been taken back. My name. why the fuck couldn’t I remember my name? that’s pretty crucial stuff to remember. Then the hum of the robots voice listing names echoed in my mind - ‘Colton Grace’
“Colt! Colton Grace!” I shouted through a cough of relief.
“Correct” It hummed and soon returned to its place. Guess that’s all it needed for me to know I’m good enough to have basic function. Only now does it occur to me; I don’t really know who I am. I don’t know what I do. I only remember small things.
My names Colt. I like movies, someone is on this ‘Hail Mary’ with me and could possibly be a relative and another a friend. Seeing them might actually jog my memory.
I place my feet on the cold metal floor and test my weight on them without lifting myself off the bed, the arms are wary and might keep me bedridden for who knows how long. A crack in my ankles but enough to hold me up, I may as well run for it until I’m out of reach.
I push myself off the bed to run towards the wall but to my surprise I fall straight to the floor. I really hadn’t used my muscles in what felt like years. Maybe it HAD been years.
“Ow.. shit” I grumbled resting my crooked nose on my forearms beneath me.
“Physical distress,” says the computer. The arms give chase. I crawl along the floor to escape. Pushing myself along the wall until I’m out of reach from the arms. My back against the chilled wall.
I let myself breathe for a minute and I looked up at the hammock beds.
“Right”. I say, recollecting myself, “I’m naked, I’ve been asleep for a very long time, hooked up to a machine with 2 other people I can’t seem to remember on something called the ‘Hail Mary’. I don’t remember much about who I am or what I do or why I’m here. Great that’s not terrifying at all”.
A shuddered breath escapes me as my head falls heavily into my hands. My hair falling over my shoulders and my beard tickling my wrists. Looking up at the beds, the beeping of the distant echo of the heart monitors were barely audible in the quiet metal container.
A hot tear brushes down my dried skin, and I slowly swallowed to myself.
“How the hell do we get out of this?..”
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