Suddenly the reality of what I was hearing reached my brain, and I snapped my eyes open only to squish them shut again against the bright red and white lights. I took a few breaths and opened them again more cautiously, and watched the door of the chamber slide down with a light [i]shhhhhhhhhhhhhhk[/i] sound. My mother's voice faded from my memory, and the cheers of crowds had become the panicked voices and wails of the other passengers. When I tried to move forward I stumbled over my own legs and something bulky at my feet, and had to catch the side of the chamber to brace myself. My hands were still asleep and tingling, but I was able to recover control of my legs as I slid awkwardly into a kneeling position on top of my red and white striped sports bag which was stiff with the fullness of it's packing. I patted down my calves with numb hands trying to work the feeling back into my body as my blood fought to restore it's normal coursing, then rose and pushed the bag out in front of me. The damn thing was so heavy, and the effort rose a wave of nausea over me. I could hear someone else retching nearby, and swallowed the urge to join them. [i]No[/i], I thought firmly,[i] keep your shit together Lizzie. First thing's first: find the exit, find the life boat thing, and get the fuck off this ship.[/i]

The ship seemed to shake and shudder beneath my feet, and I waited for it to pause before standing and hoisting the long strap of the sports bag over my shoulder. I fought down a return of nausea, leaning against the cryo chamber with one hand, and as I slowly began walking down the aisle my legs began to find their rhythm and I didn't have to reach to touch each chamber I passed for balance. That was when I made the mistake of looking up into a closed chamber. My hand was inches away from a corpse that surely hadn't been dead for long. The inside of the glass door was beaded with moisture and a white fluffy mold had sprung up over the body of a woman interspersed with whorls of green and blue fungi. She had been fair-haired and in full makeup when she went into her chamber, but now she was a taught husk of flesh over bone with long blond hair clinging in clumps. The makeup streaked red lipstick and black mascara down her face. The mold lent a strange, horrific beauty to her death like some kind of dark angel. A shudder rolled down my spine, echoing the movement of the ship, and I snatched my hand back and hurried on down the hallway. I could hear other people talking hurriedly around me, trying to communicate over the repetitive deadpan message from the computer system.

"Fatal Error No. 2048. Please proceed to the Evacuation Pods. Please follow the lit arrows on the left and right of the walkway. Please proceed in a calm and orderly fashion."

[i]Calm and orderly my ass[/i], I thought. This was anything but calm, and definitely not orderly. Amid the chaos, something caught her eye. Another woman, tan and dark of hair, was sitting by a cryo chamber, her face still and numb. She had tear tracks down her face, and sat with her back against a closed cryo chamber with another of the corpses. This one had been dead for over a decade, most likely, as there was only brown dirt and dried skin over bones. It had been a man, a tall one, in a now-filthy polo shirt and khakis. 

"Ma'am?" I went to the woman and knelt down near her, "Come on, you've gotta get up, ma'am. We've gotta go."

She lifted her eyes, dark blue and dead with despair. She shook her head, pressing her hand over her mouth. The hand sported a diamond on an intricate gold band. My heart hurt for her, realizing who's chamber she must be guarding so tenderly. I couldn't bear to leave her this way, though. 

"Come on, come with me now." I said again, and reached out to take her by the elbow. She wasn't old, surely not much older than I am, but the grief on her face made her look like she had aged the thirty years we'd slept. Reluctantly, and still refusing to speak, she eased herself up and took a shuddering breath, looking at the the thing that had been her husband once more. I expected that she would cry or cringe, but she was silent and still. I picked up the thick leather tote bag laying by her feet, and she touched the glass before turning to follow me. My heart ached.