CLAIRE DAVON

Excerpt

Earth would be the last thing I saw.

The bright blue orb shone with unconscious irony on my shattered body lying prone on its satellite’s surface. Home, so close and so far away, beckoned to me with its clouds and oceans. From my vantage point I made out Africa, and not my homeland. It didn’t matter. The Earth may have been where I was born, but the Moon would be where I died.

I hadn’t gotten to the emergency beacon before my moon buggy ejected me, the rock I hit too big to avoid toppling over. I should have been fine, but an unlucky bounce sent me sprawling on the surface. When I came to rest, I tried to crawl back to the buggy, but I couldn’t move. If my spine wasn’t broken it had been too badly injured to allow movement. My arms and legs flopped, useless. I was lucky I could still breathe.

The hiss of my cracked helmet told me of the leak that would kill me before help could reach me. I couldn’t tell what was left of the oxygen tanks in my backpack, but from the way I was getting lightheaded, they weren’t functioning well. I was a half hour from the nearest dome, and even if they sent a search party when I didn’t arrive as scheduled, it would take them too long to find me. My air would give out before anyone could rescue me.