It was an impulsive decision, reckless and stupid. However, I did not regret it once I boarded the ship. I'd lost everything, my family caught in one of the many bombs that were planted across the US. This world was had itself in a choke hold, condemned to smother itself. The hateful poison had worked its way into humanities depths, causing wars, the development of new bombs. I remember the day that the news revealed a new bomb, created to obliterate our enemies. The plan was to launch it into space and bounce it off the moon, so it would fall down to the countries that opposed the USA's forced freedom. A video showed what was likely to happen. It would create a crater so wide that it would stretch beyond the horizon, so deep it would be pitch black. Whoever was caught in the explosion was lucky though. Upon impact, the bomb was set to release smog that would react with oxygen and rise up. The oxygen would be ripped out of the air, killing the entire population of that region. They almost did it, but they decided that the moon was too vital for earth culture. Despicable! Not the loss of life, but the loss of a lump of rock was what stayed their hand. So the suicide bombings continued and the nuclear warfare began. That was when the Escape Project was founded.
They advertised in the newspapers. I saw the advertisement and saw an opportunity to leave it all behind. I knew that running away wouldn't erase their deaths. However, I wasn't going to watch the world I knew and loved die so awfully. I called the line almost immediately and I was told to come in for an interview.
"Good day sir," the woman said cheerfully, "thanks for applying. After looking at your résumé I am pleased to inform you that we can take you on. Of course, that is if you are able to answer these three questions."
"Fire away," I replied.
"Firstly, do you have any health problems we should know about?"
"Hay fever, but that's about it," I replied.
"Are you prepared to leave this world behind?"
"Yes, there's nothing left for me here."
"Lastly, can you start immediately?"
For a while I thought about this. I thought about my work colleagues, my friends, my life. Could I drop it all right now? Then I remembered my family's bodies, mangled and unrecognisable from the charred flesh.
"Yes," I replied and it was true. I had to leave planet Earth as soon as possible, save myself so that, even through all the death that was to come, at least one person would remember my family, rather than them being a fraction of the victims.
The woman led me through a series of hallways, many twists and turns. We soon came to a red door amongst the many black ones and she swiped a card through it. A collection of clicks, metal scraping against metal, locks unlocking was the reply to her card, and the door swung open. Hundreds of eyes turned to us, at least five hundred people, all in this room. Silence infected the inhabitants of the room. Many of them were standing, though some were sitting on one of the many seats. Vending machines lined the walls, most of them with a person purchasing something from one. The red door closed behind me and the people returned to their conversations, eyes back on their friends. One man broke away from his group and walked up to me.
"Hello, my name's Jacob," the man said, "what's yours?"
"Edward," I replied, "Edward Hewitt."
End of Part One
