Derek sat up at the side of the side and pulled his wheelchair closer before transferring onto it in one sweeping, elegant movement.
“Guess, I’ll see you on the next shift?” Nathalia says with a smile.
Looking up, Derek replies, “Yes, and thanks, Nat, for checking up on me.”
“Anytime. You’re like all men. A bit silly at times. Need direction.”
Derek laughs, “Go on, I’ll see you again soon.”
She walks out of his room.
They must be holding Maeve on one of the lower levels. I hope she’s okay. She should have been my priority, not feeling sorry for myself.
On exiting his room, he notices that everyone he passes gives him a smile. The mother, with her child, the middle-aged man, and the man nearing retirement.
Nat wasn’t joking.
He reaches the translucent elevator and presses the button for the second lowest floor, for that is the floor where prisoners are rumored to be kept.
Only for Maeve, I wouldn’t go anywhere near this floor.
The elevator begins its descent. The lunar surface is soon invisible in the distance, replaced by darkness.
It stops, and Derek wheels out. It doesn’t resemble any of the other levels. There is a narrow metallic corridor. There are no people, and no sign of any doors. He turns left and determines to find out more.
Mark's Writing Corner 