Recently in Chapter 20 Category

We were seven hours into our trip. It was two o'clock in the morning, but I couldn't sleep, so I joined Michael on the upper deck to keep him company. He seemed to appreciate it, as nights were typically a lonely time for him. I leaned on the railing, letting the wind blow through my hair. We were making good time so far, having traveled nearly a hundred miles already. If the wind continued to cooperate, we could be there in a week.

Thanks to the lift system as well as the ship's natural water faring ability, we could take a direct route over the great lakes. We hadn't reached them yet, but I was overjoyed at the thought. The ocean water near the refugee camp was treacherous to put it mildly, so I couldn't help but imagine how beautiful the calm waters of the lakes must be.

The scenery so far had been drab. We occasionally came across remnants of towns and cities. Trees too, but they were exceptionally rare. The harsh elements, dark days, and significant wind across the planet had killed and eroded any plant life, except for the occasional hardy grass or weed. All of that, while depressing, was nothing compared to seeing destroyed villages, where signs mentioning evacuation areas and bunkers littered the roads. I could only imagine the number of people who had died trying. Over the hundreds of years that had gone by, erosion had left little for us to cherish of the old world, but also served to protect us from the horrible scenes after.

"Makes you wonder what life must have been like back then, doesn't it?" Michael asked.

"Peaceful, I would imagine."

"Call me crazy, but I'm somewhat glad I was born into this post-apocalyptic Earth. Not the Earth that was."

"Why?"    

"When you're born with so little, you learn to appreciate making do with what you have. But for those who lived during the event, it must have been deeply traumatizing. Having your perfect life ripped away from you in an instant? I can't imagine living through that."

"We're not so different. When I was pulled from my family, taken into the genetic farm, I was traumatized as well," I pointed out.

"You're right… I guess we do share something with our ancestors, in that regard."

"I don't think anyone's ever asked… how did you end up in the farm?" I asked curiously.

"I was in a hospital, suffering from a severe viral infection. One night, when I was asleep, they whisked me away. At the time, the farm was little more than your typical lab. They told me they had found a cure for the virus. I don't know what they gave me, but at first, I did feel better. But as I got better, I was more aware of what was going on. I soon realized I was trapped, and I wouldn't be seeing my parents again. They convinced my parents that I had died, and that my body was being disposed of to avoid contamination. After that, well, you know the rest."

"Their choices never made sense. Why were we selected?"

"I don't think we'll ever discover the answer to that."

"What do you think we'll find out there, in Wisconsin?" I asked after a brief pause.

"Unless those records lied to us, there's probably another dome out there."

"Do you think they're friendly?"

"I don't know. You're being really inquisitive tonight, is something wrong?"

"Just a bad feeling. But it's been with me for a while now."

"What's that?"

"Ever since we made it out of the dome the last time, I couldn't shake the feeling that it was only going to get worse."

"Just relax, we're not in any danger out here. You should try to get some sleep."

"I know," I replied, but stayed where I was.

I ended up staying with Michael the whole night.

The next day greeted us with a magnificent "sunrise". The clouds seemed thin that day, almost peeling away to reveal the sun itself. Although the dark dust in the clouds dimmed out the color, it wasn't hard to imagine what it must have looked like before the event that ruined the sky. Jon was the first up that morning, still in his pajamas.

"Mornin'" he called to us with a yawn.

"Bit cold out here to be walking around in PJs, don't you think?" I reminded him.

"Meh, a little cold air in the morning wakes you up!"

"Surprised to see you up, figured you'd be the last."

"Oh, Sienna's up too, she's been doing her hair for a while now. Told her it was pointless due to all the wind up here, but she insisted. What is it with you women and your hair, anyway?"

"I guess some of us don't enjoy looking like death warmed over in the morning," I joked.

"You don't look so hot yourself there miss!"

"Oh, thanks." I said with a glare.

A week passed, of peace and quiet. I mostly kept to myself, watching the dim rolling hills and plains of stone and sand. Lake Erie turned out to be just as amazing as I imagined, with an amazing thunderstorm off in the distance crashing down on the lake. We spent our time playing cards, swapping childhood stories, and going over the possibilities for what we might see in Wisconsin.

On the first night of our second week, I was rudely awakened to the ship violently swaying. I was tossed out of the bed and onto the cold steel floor. Slowly pulling myself up, I heard warning alarms blare over the PA system. I rushed my way up to the top deck, emerging into violent rain and winds. The ship shook again, as the lift system attempted to keep the ship upright.

I didn't know a thing about how to pilot this ship in such nasty weather, so I ducked back underside to figure out what was taking the others so long. I found Jon and Sienna next to Michael, who was sitting down, eyes closed, with a cable running to the ship.

"What the hell is he doing, sleeping?" I yelled over the roar of the storm.

"Pretty much, we can't wake him up! He must've shut down his systems to charge faster." Jon replied.

"Jon, you need to get your ass up there, this storm is going to kill us if someone isn't flying this thing," I commanded.

"Okay, I'm on it," he said loudly, and scurried up to the top deck.

"Michael's the only one who knows how to get out of this storm," Sienna told me.

"Have you tried unplugging him?" I asked.

"Is that a good idea? What if it turns him off for good?"

The ship moaned loudly and tipped dangerously far on its side. We grabbed whatever was closest and held on, trying not to fall over again.

"Well it's either that or we crash and burn at the hands of Jon's piloting!" I called back to Sienna.

She sighed loudly, and grabbed the power cable. I grabbed it as well.

"On three," she said. I nodded. "One, two, THREE!"

The plug came out cleanly from his back, and we closed the door. Michael suddenly snapped awake.

"What the hell are you two doing? You could have damaged my charging circuits!"

The ship rolled violently once again, tossing Michael to the floor.

"What the hell was that?" he asked in shock.

"That would be the reason we woke you up! The weather outside is crazy! The ship apparently can't compensate, and Jon's not doing too well either." I informed him.

Michael clambered up to the top deck, and we followed reluctantly, stepping back out into the wind and rain.

"About time you woke up, Mike, I can't get the stupid sails down! The ship's sail controls are locked up, and I can't manually override it!"

Michael pushed Jon out of the way of the control panel, and he typed furiously, attempting to fix the problem. I grabbed onto the rail, trying not to fall over, and looked up at the sails. They were starting to fray at the corners from the incredible stress, threatening to tear completely. The wind changed directions without a moment's notice, and the ship couldn't align the sails fast enough.

"It's not locked up; the stress is so high on the gears that they can't move. I'm going to initiate an emergency detachment of the sails." Michael told Jon.

With that, Michael punched in the code, and the sails suddenly disengaged, disconnecting from the masts. They swooped over the deck, the mainsail just barely passing over my head, and were carried off into the storm by the wind. The ship seemed to sigh with relief, as the lift system relaxed, no longer fighting the torque placed on them by the sails.

"Everyone below deck, there's nothing left to do now but to ride this out," Michael called out.

We all hurried back under, and rushed to our rooms to change into some dry clothing. After that, we joined Anna who was sitting in the den, comforting her as she gripped the couch's arm so hard that her hands turned white.

We rode out the storm for the next few hours in the living area, the wind rocking us just enough to keep us from attempting sleep. Jon and Michael discussed the issue with the sails, while Sienna tried to comfort Anna.

"The ship's computer says the gears still aren't moving…" Michael called over to Jon from the interior controls.

"You mean it wasn't just the constant stress?"

"I think the gears are stripped, actually."

"Can I make some new ones?"

"Probably, but we can't get to them. You'd have to melt down the whole mast and internals to get to it."

"Without understanding how that stuff's pieced together, there's no way I could just melt that down and back together. This isn't good."

"I know."

I walked over to Michael, and put my hand on his shoulder.

"So what do we do now?" I asked.

"Well, we're only about 100 miles away now. Without sails we have two methods of movement: the jet and the lift system. The lift system is abysmally slow, it maxes out at around 2 miles an hour over land, and it can't sustain movement for extended periods. The jet engine on the other hand maxes out around 50 miles an hour on this ship, but has limited fuel. If I optimize the jet's speed for maximum fuel efficiency, around 35 mph, we're looking at about 300 miles of range. We only had a month's worth of food to start, so even if we start back right now, we'd be cutting it really close."

"Then we keep going and hope there's a dome in Wisconsin where we can stock up and repair." I explained.

"Well, that is an option, yes…"

"No, that's what we're going to do." I demanded.

"Wait a second, I'm still captain of this ship, it's my decision!"

"That's fine, I'll go by myself then," I said, storming off towards my room.

"Oh, and how do you plan on crossing Lake Michigan?"

"I'll swim of course."

"Even with your speed, you'd die of hypothermia, or cramp up and drown before you got to the other side."

"Fine, I'll go around. It'll only take me a couple extra hours at full tilt."

"Oh for the love of… why do you want to go so bad in the first place?"

"Because they might have answers, Michael."

Michael ran his hand through his hair, obviously aggravated with my stubbornness.

"Okay, we'll keep going. It'd take you months to find it without the ship's scanning equipment, anyway."