The Last Rocket

by Adam Lux

Ilyana flipped the toggle, blurring the launch pad behind in a torrent of vicious flames. Igor vanished! She’d bested him to take the last rocket up but he’d won her heart in the contest. Kilometers climbed fast now since he broke it a flash ago. Married in blissful rivalry they learned last that journey to the stars never brought cosmonauts home. This time there wasn’t even fuel to clear to thin air. Igor knew and yet pushed her past the threshold of the capsule with his boot. His cold face at the window pierced the illusion they’d lived their last days on for air. Fast repartee struck the controls locking him where flesh ought not to be. Turning back to the window, her horror struck heart pleaded out his mouth before the intercom cut short, piercing her breast. Arching underway, acceleration entombing her silhouette into the seat, Ilyana’s hand resisted and sought for Igor on the glass. She had time to toggle once more, to bail out if that actually worked or arrow straight on like the rest, for kind and country wavered none.