Author : Anthony Abruscato

The beeping told me my oxygen level was low.

“It’s like falling asleep,” said Gordon. Mars dust coated his space suit.

I clutched a picture of my wife and daughter. Gordon’s oxygen tank read nineteen percent. He palmed a photo of his own.

“Will you make it home?” I asked with fingers wrapped around my blaster.

“Million to one odds,” he said.

“But there’s still a chance?” I pressed.

“Almost nil,” he responded.

I’m sorry brother. I raised my blaster and jerked the trigger. Nothing.

Gordon pulled me in tight.

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