Jessa is the one in the old worn coat standing in the rain. Parts of her shake, but she’s steady inside. Her hands and knees tremble. It’s not because she’s afraid. Anxious…maybe. There’s confidence in her face. A snicker in the back of her throat. This world is her’s, and she will see it gone. And, she thinks, I will be the last to go.
It’s time before Jessa is ready. She steps onto the transport unsteadily. Damn it. She wanted to appear assured.
The grinding begins, and she straightens herself with the safety bars. The timer ticks down. Forty five minutes to go.