Walking on Venus

The car door groaned. Frankie pushed the car door open open and it groaned. He took one small step into the tall grass.

-Welcome to Venus, he muttered.

Red climbed out the passenger side. She adjusted her glasses, scanning the perimeter. The overgrown hedges loomed like green walls in the moonlight.

-The Jungle Planet theory was right, she said. -Humidity is at one hundred percent. Breathable, but barely.

Frankie slammed the car door shut. It was loud.

-Keep it down, Red hissed. We don't know what's listening.

Red nodded. She moved to the front of the car, her boots sinking into the soft earth. She ran a hand over the hood.

-Hull's cooling, she noted. But we can't stay out in the open. The acid rain is coming.

Frankie looked up. The sky was clear, but the sprinklers next door hissed to life.

-Incoming, he barked. -Move!

He grabbed her hand. They sprinted across the lawn. The grass whipped at their legs. To anyone watching, two adults running from a sprinkler on the other side of a fence.

They dove under the low branches of the oak tree.

-A canopy Frankie offered, leaning against the trunk and breathing hard. Red was right beside him. Her chest rose and fell.

-Clear, she gasped. Canopy is holding the acid off.

Frankie wiped his forehead.

-Close one, he said with a smile.

He looked at her. In the shadows of the leaves, her eyes were bright.

-This jungle, Frankie said, gesturing to the unkempt yard. It’s a maze. We need to find the outpost.

Red peeled a piece of bark from the tree. She crumbled it in her fingers.

-We're miles from the outpost, Captain. We're in the wild now.

She looked out at the dark yard and the dancing shadows.

-And I don't think we're alone.

Frankie reached for his belt. He felt the handle of the garden shears he’d picked up earlier.

-Stay close, he said.

-Always, she whispered.

She pressed her back against his.

-What's the plan, Frankie?, she whispered.

-We hack our way through, he said. And we kill anything that gets in our way.