Chapter 4: 57 degrees
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Dawn is breaking on the horizon. The heat is intensifying rapidly, and we're already at 40 degrees (104 degrees Fahrenheit). Racing at full speed on my Etriclo, I approach the Domus Speranza. The scene before me is chilling: it's under attack. Dozens of black vehicles, never seen before, surround the dome.

The Raiders are already here and they've managed to breach it.

"No, no, no!" I think desperately.

I arrive and swiftly exit the vehicle. I draw my pistol and rush inside Speranza.

Screams of suffering and the cacophony of gunfire fill the air.

Giancarlo lies lifeless on the ground. I want to cry, I want to scream, but I'm paralyzed. There's no time to think. No time to focus. I'm swept up in the events unfolding. I see my mother, Elena, struggling to seal one of the exits. She's badly wounded. My sister Maria is with her.

"Mom!" A cry of anguish escapes my lips.

"Michele! The Raiders have attacked us. You must flee!"

"We can't leave Speranza!"

"Speranza has fallen, we couldn't stop them."

Suddenly, a Raider bursts inside.

"There are more bugs here!" the enemy exclaims mockingly. He raises his rifle and starts shooting. In an instant, I aim my pistol but I'm not fast enough. My mother steps in between me and the danger. She shields me. The barrage of bullets pierces through her: she collapses to the ground with force. One of the bullets grazes my left arm, tearing through my suit.

I scream in pain. BANG! Adrenaline courses through me and, despite my agony and agitation, I manage to shoot and hit the Raider. He staggers and falls to the ground, dead.

My mother lies bleeding on the ground, dying. A pool of blood expands beneath her. My sister is crying desperately. I try to lift my mother, to comfort her, to take her somewhere safe. I have to do something. I have to stop the bleeding. I need a first aid kit.

"Let me go! Take your sister... and get out of here! I order you."

"NO! I can't leave you here!"

"You must go. Your task is to protect your sister." she orders, summoning the last of her strength. COUGH! She coughs up blood.

I hear enemy voices getting closer. There's no time.

Inside me, I know it's the right thing to do, but leaving my mother behind is tearing me apart.

I grab the dead Raider's rifle and his ammunition.

My sister clings to my mother, refusing to let go. I grab her decisively and pull her away, but she clings even tighter.

"No, Michele, we can't leave her here!"

I slap her, hoping to shock her out of her state of shock. We have to escape if we want to have any hope of survival. Otherwise, the Raiders will catch up to us and we'll die too.

Tears streaming down my face, I say a tearful goodbye to my mother.

"I love you."

"Me too, my son. Protect, Maria."

"I swear."

My sister cries as I glance back at her one last time before leaving.

"MOM!" Maria screams with a desperate wail.

I get onto the Etriclo I arrived in. I forcefully get my sister inside as well. I close the doors. Unfortunately, it's a single-seat vehicle: Maria and I are cramped together. The batteries are almost depleted. I know they won't last long. Outside, the sun is high, and the temperature keeps rising.

We take off on the Etriclo, accelerating at maximum speed. The only place we can hope to survive is Eureka. We have to reach it, it's our only chance of survival.

It's 45 (113 F) degrees outside. The battery is at 20%. The solar panels are providing a small amount of additional energy, but it won't be enough.

We're squeezed against each other. Maria cries and struggles. She wants to go back, and so do I. But I made a promise, and I can't turn my back on it.

It's 47 (116,6 F) degrees. My suit can't keep me cool anymore. The tear caused by the bullet compromises its insulation. I try to patch it up with multipurpose adhesive tape. It's not a permanent solution, but I hope it holds for a while.

Maria pants, struggling to breathe. I redirect all the life support systems of the vehicle to her.

It's 50 (122 F)degrees. The vehicle's display is a cascade of flashing alarms. The electric motor is overheating, the battery is dying. I pray that it can carry us a little further.

I'm desperate. I breathe laboriously, oxygen is running low.

It's 53 (127,4 F) degrees. My vision starts to blur. I take deep breaths, trying to hold back panic.

We continue in this state for what feels like an eternity.

Finally, the Etriclo comes to a halt. The motor is fried. The battery is at one percent, and soon the systems and screen will shut down for good.

We disembark. All that's left is to continue on foot. In this desert, there's no shelter for hundreds of kilometers. The sun is relentless, its light is our death sentence.

I gather the remaining supplies from the vehicle and pack them into a backpack. I force Maria to drink some water, we need to stave off dehydration for as long as possible.

We trek through the desert, 55 (131 F) degrees above us. The sand burns underfoot, and the air is an oven that stifles us.

We walk in the direction of Eureka, hoping to catch sight of its dome, driven only by the need to survive. I keep my gaze forward, unwilling to think about what we've left behind.

Maria stumbles and falls. I help her up, but I see the exhaustion in her eyes. We keep moving for a little while.

But eventually, she can't go on. I lift her and put her on my shoulders.

I walk for hours, trying to muster every last bit of energy I have left. Maria pants, she's exhausted.

"M-michele..." she barely mumbles.

I'm too tired. I can't stand with her weight on my shoulders.

We collapse onto the scorching sand. We can't go on like this.

"I-I can't do it..." she says with great difficulty.

I look into her eyes, her skin reddened by the sun and marked by signs of exhaustion.

"M-maria, just a little more effort..." I plead.

My words hang in the air. I look around, feeling the stifling desert surrounding us.

"I can't breathe..." Every word is a struggle for her.

Her voice is a broken whisper. I know what I have to do, even though it hurts. I have to try to help her breathe.

I disconnect my oxygen tank and attach it to her mask. My heart tightens as I watch.

Please, hold on. Breathe!

"I love you..." A tear tries to fall from her eye but evaporates instantly.

Her eyelids slowly droop, and her eyes close.

"MARIA! WAKE UP, MARIA!"

But there's no response. My voice fades into the desert's emptiness.

I shake her with urgency. No reaction. I take off her mask.

The sand burns under me, but there's no time to think about it. Maria lies motionless, her chest doesn't rise, her face is pale as death itself. The relentless sun beats down on us, time closes in around me like a vice. I can't lose another second.

Tears stream down my face, but I have no time to wipe them away. My hands tremble as I grab her chin with force. I have to bring her back, I have to make her breathe. My heart beats so hard I think it might shatter any moment.

My lips press against hers, my breath tries to meld with hers. My chest heaves and falls convulsively, pushing air into her lungs. There's no time to hesitate, I have to give her my breath, my life.

Tears fall onto her face, mingling with sweat. But I don't care. I have to bring her back, I have to feel her chest rise under mine, I have to hear her breath next to mine. My mind is in turmoil, time slips through my fingers, and all that matters is her, is bringing her back.

I keep breathing, mouth to mouth, like a madman. My lips press against hers with fervor, my breath enters and exits in a frenzied rhythm. My body is a machine, a machine trying to transfer life into her, trying to wake her from this accursed slumber.

The sand burns under me, but it's as if there's nothing else around. It's just me and her, my breath and hers. I keep pushing air into her lungs, trying to revive her with every breath I take. My hands grip her face desperately, as if I could shake her awake.

But she remains motionless, her body inert like a marble statue. My breathing becomes more and more frantic, tears mix with my sweat. There's no time to cry, no time to give up. I have to bring her back, I have to make her breathe.

Time slips through my fingers, but I keep breathing for her. My lips move against hers with a senseless frenzy. My breath becomes a silent scream of hope and despair. But in the end, silence persists. Her chest doesn't rise, her eyes don't open.

I pull away from her, my breath heavy in the air. I look at her face, her mouth slightly open, but I know it's futile. My heart is shattered, my voice choked by despair. I step back from her, the sand burns under me, and all that's left is the deafening silence of the desert.

Maria is dead.

The thermometer reads 57 (134,6 F) degrees.

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