The Last Flight of the Acurus

The Last Flight of the Acurus

Robert J. McCarter

Little Hummingbird Publishing

Foreword

This story was originally published in 2013 in Andromeda Spaceways Inflight Magazine #58 and then in 2018 as part of Anomalous Readings: Thirteen Curious and Confounding Tales and appears there with twelve of my other stories.

The Last Flight of the Acurus

Copyright ©2013 by Robert J. McCarter

This story was first published in Andromeda Spaceways Inflight Magazine, Issue #58

Except as permitted under the Copyright Act of 1976, this book may not be reproduced in whole or in part in any manner. This book is a work of Fiction. Names, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used Fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Cover image © Deposit Photo, Shad.off

Version 1.0, March 2023

Ebook ISBN: 978-1-941153-74-1

Print ISBN: 978-1-941153-73-4

Visit Robert’s website at: RobertJMcCarter.com

Published by:

Little Hummingbird Publishing

P.O. Box 23518

Flagstaff, AZ 86002

The Last Flight of the Acurus

I die every night. Not literally, of course, but also not some metaphorical, loss of consciousness, dying to the day shit either. I literally feel like I am dying every single night.

Sometimes, most of the time, I feel like I can’t breathe. I am, of course, breathing but my body freaks out like it is not. And when it is not that, I feel this deep, oppressive heaviness and I can’t move. I can’t do anything. In both cases, I am trapped, knowing that the end is near.

And it is not like I am fully awake and can rationalize myself out of this. I am in the twilight state between consciousness and unconsciousness; neither fully awake nor fully asleep. The normal rules don’t apply. I am stuck, forced to feel whatever biochemical dance that is going on in my body. And whatever that dance is, it feels like death.

It is probably related to the accident. I mean, how couldn’t it be? Floating out there in the darkness of the void with only the pinprick lights of the stars to illuminate me, fighting for my life, my oxygen running out.

I haven’t told a soul. I don’t want to be pulled from active duty and medicated. This is the only record of what I am going through. It is my hope that writing this down, getting it out, expressing it, will help to resolve the situation.

I hope it does. I honestly don’t know how much longer I can stand the night terrors.

″ Acurus, this is Command. Status update. Over."

″Command, I said. This is the Acurus, Wells here. Hicks is on an untethered EVA working on the damage. Doesn’t sound good. Is the rescue team away