Rupture

'A month had passed— Bit of advice. Don't get fooled into thinking time walks because that bastard can run even without a purpose. Anyways, I spent my time either hitting the books at home or talking to Dana at her shop. We talked about everything under the sun. That was a fine month. Maybe that's why it took me a while to notice that my mother and father came home differently. Not the good kind too.

First point of concern was they kept the bedroom locked. I know what you're thinking. Don't you get sleazy on me now. Nope, didn't get a younger sibling to finally play ball with. I mean, I don't think they made our suits in baby size either. But soon later, they even locked the front door. Not that I had any problem with that. Funny coincidence that Dana taught me how to pick locks too.

That wasn't all that felt wrong. Their suits. The dirt on their arms, the scratches on their helmets, and the way they moved like one limb was heavier than the other… One day, they came home and I tried to hug my mother. I missed her but then she moved back in an instant like a cat on its heels. I asked if anything was wrong but all they said was that they were fine. The young me took that answer for granted and maybe much more. I could only think that maybe… Maybe this was normal.'

-----

In the Fellden Lunch Room, Jonathan's knife froze as he cut his steak. His grip loosened and the knife clanged on the metal food tray. He turned to Heath who had just given him the news,"T-Theo's dead?"

Heath nodded once and his stare was lost on his cup. He took a flask from his pocket and took a swig. He grunted, "Didn't like him but I hate to say that it's true."

Abigail couldn't touch her food either. Her face was paler than usual. She looked at the empty seat of their table. "How? How did he die?"

Heath offered his flask to the couple but they politely refused. He wouldn't take no for an answer. He stood up and poured them both a drink. "Humans drink to the dead. I don't know. Maybe he would've liked it."

Jonathan and Abigail looked at each other and silently shared the pieces of fear and sadness of Theo's death. They took their cups and drank. The bitterness of the alcohol surfaced on their faces. The warm burn in their throats relieved little.

Heath went back to his seat and poured for the other three Fellden at his table. He set the flask down and continued, "The humans found him outside his apartment. What was left of him. He didn't have his helmet on. Burned alive by the sun."

Abigail shot from her seat. Her silver eyes shivered, "He removed his helmet?!"

"I wouldn't be surprised. He isn't the only one." "There has been a surge of incidents. Mass combustion. Maybe it's the loneliness. I remember Theo came alone three months ago. But with Theo's death? I'd rather eat centipede shit if anyone wants me to believe that."

"No, not Theo." Jonathan shook his head. He would bet his life that Theo wouldn't have succumbed to the sun. "Impossible. He loved it here. He genuinely did. He pestered us about every little thing about living on the surface."

"It wasn't him." Abigail's voice hardened. She rolled back her sleeve and showed the bruises on her arm. "It's the humans. I'm certain of it."

You hear it don't you? These walls, metal or concrete, are way thinner than the bedrock. Passing through the tables outside, the foul words they spit at us every day. I'm sure you've felt it too. We're the perfect bag to punch when they need to release everything pent up inside. And no one would notice the bruises at all...

The mother looked at the father. He knew she was scared.

"What about a golem?" suggested Abigail. The very mention of the word sliced through the atmosphere and silenced the lunchroom. Silver eyes glanced at her direction. "We're by a rich mountain. We'd have all the material we'd need. They would think twice to throw their fists and spout their—"

"Abigail!" Jonathan grabbed her shaking hand. He knew the restless anger she felt; it was a month's worth of pressure that had been built through pain and silence. He thought about the others that arrived before them and how much they had endured. He placed his forehead against hers. "Fletcher. Think about him. We can't incite anything, dear. Not if we wish our son to live in that kind of world."

Abigail opened her jaw but no words would come out. She crashed her head on his shoulder and cried. She wrapped her arms around him. "Fletcher… But we would have him live in this, Jonathan? What are we going to do?"

"You're good people." Heath stood up with his empty food tray. "What are you gonna do? Eat. Strength will always be needed. Nothing changes quickly. We were reminded of that everyday by the rocks below. We all know the burden of our race which we carried over here."

"What burden?" asked Jonathan. All he ever thought about was his family.

"The burden of peace," scoffed Heath.

------

"You shouldn't have mentioned that."

"What?"

"The golem. That was dangerous, Abigail."

"This is dangerous," corrected Abigail. She, Jonathan, and Fletcher were inside the Light Treatment Room. They wore black underwear and tinted goggles. Their bare feet touched the cold light panels beneath. She was seated next to Fletcher and she rubbed his arms. "Are we sure about this, Jonathan?"

"I… I tried it yesterday." Jonathan had difficulty admitting. He was by the panel near the door and his back was turned towards them.

"Jonathan!" Abigail sprung from her seat. Her anger was evident. "How could you—"

"I-I didn't want to tell you until I felt sure it was okay to use this." Jonathan continued double checking the parameters he set on the panel. He stopped and then took a deep breath. He looked at his wife with concern. With the beatings and Theo's passing, he just wanted something done rather than not do anything at all. "Honestly, I don't know but I don't want us to burn like Theo did. I think we're all set. I'll stand here by the red button."

"Okay… Okay. We're doing this." Abigail collected herself. She returned to Fletcher and placed her hand on his cheek. "Make sure your eyes are closed, Fletcher. If you do open them, you open them slowly, okay?"

Fletcher nodded and looked to his father. He was as ready as a young boy could. He was afraid but he trusted their decision.

"Here we go." Jonathan carefully turned the dial. He had set the limit of the light intensity beforehand and numbers appeared on the screen above which stopped at the lowest setting. He braced himself.

The panels illuminated to the strength of a lit match, maybe even lesser. However, it was more than enough to make their skin feel singed and a faint smoke like the blur of an oasis in a desert emanated from the bodies.

"Can you handle it?" Abigail's words escaped through her teeth as she turned to Fletcher. She felt the burn of her gums with every word she said.

"Y-Yes I… Yes, I can, Mother." Fletcher nodded which he regretted because each movement he made magnified the pain.

'What can I say? I was a good boy. But you know that pins and needles feeling? That's how it felt at the start… Then it felt like millions of ants were nibbling you silly. The pain was greater than I could manage. My parents seemed fine but I knew they felt it too. We all kept these strong dumb faces as the light burned us. You know what? As far as bonding experiences go, it wasn't bad.'

Jonathan's knee buckled but he managed to keep standing. Doing treatment again after just one day weakened him further than he anticipated. He looked at Abigail who nodded towards him, telling him it was okay to stop the treatment. He raised his fist and slammed on the red button. The lights immediately shut off. He fell and planted his hands on the floor.

"Jonathan!" Abigail almost slipped as she went to him. She powered through the pain across the room until she reached him. She wanted to help him up but pulled back her hands. "Jonathan! Are you okay?! Talk to me!"

"How long…" Jonathan's word spilled just like his drool.

"What are you—"

"How long was the light on?"

Abigail turned to the panel and read the screen, "Seven seconds."

"Seven seconds… T-Twice…" Jonathan, frail and breathless, raised his head. A thin layer of smoke wafted from his body. "Twice a week and every other day… I— I think that would be best."

Abigail wanted to lock the door for good but Jonathan's determination was unscathed. She was aware of all they had sacrificed to get on that train and he was ready to sacrifice more if it meant a better life for the family. She wouldn't fight his resolve. "Yes, dear. Let's do that."

-----

Three weeks passed. Abigail had the apartment to herself. She arrived home earlier than usual due to an unexpected day off. There were no tools to clean at her workplace. The mining depot she was assigned to apparently discovered an archeological find or there was a blockage of dense stone which required diamond tipped tools. She wasn't sure but she didn't mind the free time and getting away from the constant excuse of slipping tools to hit her with.

She managed to do things she could only do over the weekends. She ventured to the balcony and watered the peace lilies she and Jonathan bought at the market. The florist said that they would bloom in four months. She especially couldn't wait for Fletcher to see it. "Maybe we should invite Fletcher's friend over for dinner?"

Back in the apartment, she took off her helmet as she went over to the induction stove in the kitchen. She opened the lid and the beef stew smelled hearty and sweet. She felt accomplished that she followed the Hopsch lunch lady's recipe to the letter. She took a spoonful and tasted it. It tasted so good that she burst out in laughter. "How am I this good?! One try! Oh, Abigail. You might just put that Hopsch out of—"

DING-DONG!

The doorbell rang. It wasn't as alarming as the first time Abigail and her family heard it. She chuckled at the memory of how they all took cover underneath the bed. She took her helmet off the counter and headed for the door. As soon as she made sure the helmet was secure, she peered through the peephole. She smiled and opened the door.

"Ms. Klein!" greeted Abigail. She extended her hand, just how Theo taught her. "What a pleasant surprise. What brings you over?"

Ms. Klein, night vision goggles equipped, looked at Abigail's hand; she couldn't shake it. Her usual merriment was gone. She crumpled her ironed pencil skirt. "Mrs. Rowe…"

"What's wrong, Ms. Klein?" Abigail's hand drifted back to her side.

"I'm so sorry, Abigail." Tears escaped from Ms. Klein's goggles. She took a deep breath. She had to say what she knew. "Jonathan had an accident. He passed away at the mining site."

Abigail's heart dropped and as her knees lost strength, she crumbled to the floor. She couldn't breathe and tried to get her helmet off.

"Abigail! Wait!" Ms. Klein entered the apartment. Just in time, she shut the door before Abigail removed her helmet. She leaned back on the door and stuck to it and kept her hand over the knob.

"Why?!" Abigail wailed in tears. She latched onto Ms. Klein's legs and begged for an answer. "Jonathan! Who took my Jonathan?!"

Ms. Klein didn't know what to do but stood her ground as Abigail wept rivers of tears. "It was a cave in… It was an accide—"

"An accident?!" Abigail was in utter disbelief. Her silver eyes shot up to Ms. Klein and an unbridled fury pounded in her chest. Something broke within her. She would take on the constant beatings and the vile words others spat but losing Jonathan simply broke her heart beyond what she could handle. "Jonathan in an accident?! Bullshit! He was… He was one of the best in Asrora… Like hell I'll believe that!"

"I'm so sorry, Abigail… I truly am…"

"Fletcher," escaped from Abigail's mouth. It was a whisper of clarity amidst the turmoil of despair she felt. She scrambled to get her helmet on for she knew what she had to do. As she stood up, her pupils quaked intensely at Ms. Klein. "I won't let them take him. I have to protect him."

"Abigail… Don't do anything—"

"Look at what doing nothing has done!" Abigail shouted with a ferocity stemmed from a paranoid love. Her son was all she had left. She ordered, "Move aside, Ms. Klein."

Powerless at the mother's raging ardor, Ms. Klein let go of the doorknob and slinked to the side. She couldn't speak for she knew whatever she'd say wouldn't suffice.

The metal door banged as Abigail swung it open. Fueled by desperation, she ran so purposefully that her breath could hardly catch up. Whatever the cost, she had to keep him alive.

As she ran down the open stairwell of the complex, a massive eruption soil and smoke took place by the mountain. It was at Mori Industries where she worked. That didn't stop her feet but the bizarre occurrence kept her curious gaze locked in. "A golem."

A gigantic metal snake around five stories high pierced through the earthen clouds. Powered through gears and steam, it slithered then snapped its massive jaws on the corner of the building of Mori Industries. Concrete and glass crashed to the people below. It's tail whipped like a tidal wave and caused vehicles, trees, and snow to fly like confetti.

Abigail didn't know but that was the reason for her day off. It was discovered that Heath, along with the other three Fellden at his lunch table, constructed the golem. They had been secretly constructing it since they arrived in a section of the mines they dug out themselves. The reason for activation of the weapon of destruction revolved around Jonathan's death.

But Abigail didn't care. Even more so, only Fletcher was on her mind. She pulled her eyes away from the devastation, wiped her tears, and picked up the pace. Nothing else mattered.

'Oh, here we go. No stopping this train now. Still listening? You better, friend. We're getting to my favorite part.'