Justine had only been knocked out once in her life. It was during a run on the FBI training course at Camp Barrett, VA. Designed and built by the US Marines, the Yellow Brick Road is a 6.1-mile wooded trail running through multiple types of terrain and several kinds of obstacles. Considered to be the culmination of their studies, the course was designed to test a bureau agent’s physical and mental readiness.

  Not that the course itself posed any kind of real challenge to a seasoned athlete. And make no mistake about it, Justine was just that. A seasoned athlete who could smoke the course in her sleep.

  Still, like most athletic endeavors, the academy’s final test wasn’t solely about a physical challenge or even the power of teamwork. No, it was about the loot. And even though the loot was simple, it was still a prize that couldn’t be found anywhere else in the world.

  And what was this precious loot? A brick. A simple yellow brick etched with your name and class number. A brick that signified that your graduation and the realization of your dream was just around the corner. Hence the name, The Yellow Brick Road.

  And like Dorothy, she followed that road all the way to the edge of the universe.

  But it wasn’t the obstacles or the terrain which caused her singular experience with being knocked out. No, it was a fellow classmate who shouted out to the instructor on duty to toss them their prize. A prize that missed its intended target and collided with the back of her head with a loud thwack.

  So, because of that ill aimed throw, Justine lay sprawled out on the grass for 15 minutes that day. All the while, her fellow trainees and instructors desperately tried to blame anyone but themselves for her sad state of oblivion.

  And what should have been one of the happiest days in her life, Graduation Day. Turned into nothing more than pitiful looks and not so veiled jokes at her expense. So, it was with a sense of déjà vu that she once again found herself knocked out cold on another day that should have been one of the happiest in her life.

  A day where all her sci-fi dreams were coming true. Only this time, instead of a yellow brick turning out her lights, it was Foster’s inability to see an errant stasis pod trying to hit him on the back of the head.

  “I guess saving that idiot is not a bad way to go,” she thought to herself bitterly as the first rays of consciousness broke through the fog of shadows swimming inside her head.

  In the distance, a muffled whisper cut through her inner monologue for a second before flittering away as her senses fought back against her concussion. As they did, it was the little things she noticed first. Like how every couple of seconds she heard a loud thud, followed closely by that same whisper, which was quickly bookended by another loud thud.

  However, this repetition soon faltered when someone wrapped their arm around her waist. In response, Justine tried opening her eyes, but the pain in her head forced them to stay closed. A moment later, another loud thud rang out, only this time the sound emanated from directly above.

  And the arm, which had been gently gripping her waist, suddenly contracted tightly like it was trying to protect her. Finally, the last sense to start working for the FBI agent was her sense of movement. Or more specifically, her body being shifted around in zero gravity until it pressed firmly against someone else’s body.

  Trying very hard to remind herself that everything in those tubes were brain dead, Justine once again attempted to open her eyes. On the first try, only bright pulsing lights and shifting shadows materialized. Her second attempt revealed more of the same imagery only with sharper edges to the shadows.

  However, her third attempt proved to be the charm as she was finally able to see who was holding her. “Foster?” she asked in a weak voice. “What are you doing?”

  Not paying any attention to her question, Foster just quietly stared upward while a cacophony of thunks pelted her now working ears. While above them, thousands of stasis pods floated in and out of her field of view like a swarm of angry locusts.

  And past the pods, the clear roof dome and the escape shuttle loomed haughtily above them. Taking everything in for a moment, her brain slowly began to assess their current situation and the first thing that came to her muddled mind was: THIS ISN’T RIGHT! SOMETHING IS VERY WRONG! Then, her brain clicked into gear, and she jerked back to attention.

  “What happened?!”

  Foster continued to stare upward into space.

  Seeing him caught in some kind of never-ending logic loop, Justine felt herself become frantic as the muffled whispers came again, sharper and louder than before. Only this time, she could make out the direction they were coming from… directly above them.

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  “Who’s screaming?”

  Justine ran her hand along the back of her head and felt a decent size lump. She withdrew her hand to check for blood. Thankfully, there was none. Instinctively, she retouched the lump to see how badly it hurt when something a little weird happened. The swelling shifted slightly under her touch. Not from side to side, but almost as if the wound was shrinking.

  Shrinking?

  “Foster,” she blurted out as her state of mind grew angrier and if she was honest, a little bit more creeped out by the second. “Who is screaming?!!!”

  Suddenly, her last plea seemed to catch Foster’s attention, so he calmly said, “Joseph.”

  “Joseph?” The mention of the deputy’s name seemed to elicit a series of questions in her mind. Like, why was the deputy screaming at the top of his lungs? Why were they now so far away from the shuttle? Then finally, and more importantly, why did Foster risk his life to save hers?

  “Foster,” she tried to shake out the cobwebs while waiting for an explanation. More than anything, Justine hated being ignored. And that’s precisely what he was doing. “Why is he screaming?”

  Foster’s eyes darted from one pod to the next. “He’s worried we’re not going to make it off the station in time to escape the black hole.”

  “Why?” She swung her legs down for a foothold. Strangely, her unsteady legs contacted with something solid. Perplexed, Justine looked down and was shocked to see they were standing on a pile of stasis tubes about a hundred feet high. “Why is he so worried?”

  “Because there’s only a couple of minutes left before we lose another engine.” His voice remained irritatingly calm. “Once that happens, the station will lose its ability to maintain a safe distance from the black hole.”

  “Then let’s go.” She tried to push off only to discover Foster had a foot lodged under an environmental device. She tried kicking his foot free, but zero gravity made putting any leverage behind the hit problematic.

  Somewhere above, she could hear the fear in Joseph’s muffled words as he said, “Move your ass!!!”

  “Foster,” her words sounded like a mix between a plea and a command. “What are you waiting for?!”

  Again, the scientist never made a move to answer. He just continued to stare at the pods crashing above them in a state of complete emersion.

  “What are you waiting for?” She repeated the question again, but Foster’s eyes never left the swirling pods. She was close to knocking him out and dragging his body with her. When two large clusters of pods collided violently together, causing them to shoot off in different directions. One even crashed a few feet away from where they were standing.

  Near the end of her rope, Justine drew in a large breath and screamed with everything she had, “What are you waiting for?!”

  “I was waiting for this.”

  Foster stopped looking upward and stared directly into her frantic eyes. Without asking permission, he pulled her close and gave her a long, hard, passionate kiss.

  Instantly, Justine forgot about the impending destruction of the space station. She forgot Saunders, Fitz Hume, Joseph, and the agency. She even forgot about the asshole that stood her up three days ago. Justine Rushing forgot about all her problems and for a second, melted into Foster Evers.

  Eventually, they reluctantly pulled apart, and he once again turned his attention back to the crashing pods floating above their heads. Still reeling from their embrace, it took a second for her senses to return.

  “Why did you kiss me?” She mumbled.

  Foster pulled her into his hip, then unhooked his foot from the environmental device. Just below his knee, the Slinger appeared. He aimed the plasma gun at the ever-growing piles of tubes beneath their feet and said sarcastically, “I was trying to get your attention.”

  With that phrase, the magnets released their stored energy and a shot of white plasma rocketed downward with the velocity of an exploding missile. In zero-g, the gun’s physics reacted differently. Instead of jerking forward, then back again, the weapon’s action skipped the first step and threw them upward at an incredible speed.

  “What are you doing?” Justine clung tightly as hundreds of pods zigzagged dangerously close to their now helpless bodies. To her immediate right, she spotted a lone pod rocketing in their direction, packed with three horrific looking giant spiders.

  As always, her first instinct was to draw her weapon and fire, but Foster stayed her hand.

  “Don’t do anything,” he said with a giant shit-eating grin. “Just let it play out.”

  “Let it play out?” Her voice was on the verge of cracking completely. But the pod just kept hurtling forward without the slightest hint of being deflected or stopped. “Foster,” she screamed, fumbling for her precious Slinger. “If you get us killed, I’m going to kill you.”

  He just kept passively smiling at her with that same stupid grin.

  Then, out of nowhere, another pod full of something resembling lime green Jell-O came speeding into view from somewhere above.

  “Shit!” she yelled out of instinct. But at the last moment, they crashed into one another like billiard balls on a pool table. Each spun for a second before tumbling away harmlessly. “That was lucky.”

  “Was it?”

  They continued to rise through the swirling clouds of dead prisoners, and each time it appeared they’d be smashed to bits, another last-minute rescue would swoop in miraculously to save them. That’s when the magnitude of their escape truly hit her. Foster wasn’t spacing out before. He was tracing the path of an incalculable number of statis tubes.

  And he wasn’t stalling for time either. No, he was just waiting for the right moment to make his move. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” was all the words she could muster at that exact moment. And all he could do in response to her words was smile.

  Twenty seconds later, Foster reached out with his free hand and grasped onto the gantry way.

  “You know,” Foster said as he repositioned himself on the scaffolding. After a second of fumbling, he was in a much more stable posture to help her climb up. “I think you were right before… in the hallway.”

  Justine took his hand, and with one acrobatic move, hooked her leg on the bottom of the walkway. As she swung her body into an upside-down position to face him, she asked, “Right about what?”

  “It is hard being your friend.”

  “Foster,” the look on her face would later be described by Foster as prophetic. While Hoover would use the description as an ‘I told you so’. Either way, no one would come to describe her words as anything but chilling. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

  A few feet away, near the now wide-open airlock, Joseph’s distant whispers had grown into thunderous condemnations for Justine, Foster and his crazy little program.