Falling Sky by Rajan Khanna Read Free Book Online

foraging or eating or defending myself into that ship. Into making her faster and better. Into making her my home. Into making her safe.
    Now she’s gone.
    Not to mention everything that was on the ship. The food. The water. The alcohol. The ammunition and weapons. The memories.
    Fuck.
    I used to hate gravity when I was younger. Always waiting to pull you to the ground. Yet we sailed through the sky, able to evade it. But it was like a demon waiting below. Just waiting to get its claws on us.
    Now it had grabbed me. And there was no escaping it now.

    It’s somewhere during my pity party that I realize that while I may be sheltered from the view of any wandering Ferals, I’m still visible from the air, and I’m sure one of the raiders must have seen me drive away. So I start up the Ferrari again and keep driving, aiming to put as much distance between me and them as I can. Of course an airship could easily outpace me. So I head for nearby trees, hoping they’ll shield me.
    The fuel gauge is already showing a drop in the tank, and I realize with a sinking sensation that this vehicle isn’t going to last long. Not without another supply of Serge’s special fuel.
    But I get under the cover of the trees and kill the engine to save fuel and I just sit for a while. Safe for the moment within the chassis of the cart.
    I think about what my plan should be. I think about driving straight through to the coast. Where I can put my back up against the ocean, maybe take shelter in some cave down by the beach. Lay it up with traps and the like. Go native for a while.
    It’s not a prospect that fills me with joy.
    But getting back into the air is going to be a problem. And there are no rendezvous points nearby.
    I think about Diego and Rosie. I won’t be able to make it out to them either.
    I’m royally fucked is what I am.
    Christ.
    Exhausted and depressed, I put my head back against the seat and close my eyes. And fall asleep.
    I awake with my bladder throbbing. This is a problem that doesn’t happen on airships. Your typical airship is equipped with at least a chemical toilet that we use (and then dump) for most basic biological needs.
    In the Ferrari I have two choices: open the door and brave the ground, or piss in the car and deal with the aftermath.
    It gives me pause.
    Normally I would piss in the car with abandon. Happily mark the thing as my own in the most basic, animalistic way. But not only does that remind of the Ferals and the things they do, but I may very well be living in this thing for the near future, and I don’t relish the thought of soiling my new home.
    So instead I ready my guns and prepare to face the ground. I open the door with the automatic out, moving it slowly, pausing after each push to make sure nothing is going to run for me.
    When nothing does, I slide out of the car and scan the area around me.
    It’s lightly wooded, with nothing moving. I wait a few moments more and when nothing happens, a few more.
    And here’s the thing about the ground. You start out thinking that the longer you take checking, the safer you’ll be. But you end up thinking that the sooner you get your business done, the quicker you can get back to safety.
    There’s no winning.
    Especially when you’re out in the open, with only one hand free to protect you.
    It’s one of the most vulnerable situations I’ve ever experienced.
    I have the gun out, my eyes scanning, as I finish and get everything covered again. Then it’s a quick scurry back into the cart and a long exhalation that nothing went wrong.
    I know it’s silly to think, but I’m glad a Feral didn’t get to me with my cock out. I have envisioned myself dying a number of ways. That’s not one I’d like to even consider.
    So it’s off to the coast, then, I think. Park the cart on the beach, with plenty of room to piss, a clear line of sight in front of me, and fresh seafood when I