Vanguard | Post-Apocalyptic YA

Part 3: Unexpected Introductions

It's almost five o'clock when we surface, but it's still dark out. Although I carefully scan the coast as we head toward land, the lights I saw last week aren't there now. Maybe they never were, but I still have to look.

We navigate the Skipper up a narrow inlet a couple hundred feet from the ocean, floating between high stalks of marsh reeds native to the area. The sight is almost overwhelming. In the ocean, you always feel like you're in a bubble, even if that's all you've ever known. There is a certain feeling of repression, whether caused from the crush of the underwater pressure or something just in your head from knowing there's an immense sea around you.

Here, it's different. The sky seems to go on forever and I feel lighter than ever before. Like the possibilities are endless. Or that anything can happen. The thought makes me indescribably excited, and I find myself grinning. It's a good thing Ray doesn't see. He'd think I'd already gone mad.

I know that alligators and several species of snake used to be abundant around these parts, but we unfortunately – or perhaps thankfully – don't encounter any of them. Once we stop, I pull two gas masks out of my bag and hand one to Ray. With my portable gas chronometer ready, we slowly open the canopy. The gauges jump around a bit before settling in the normal range. At least the air is breathable.

I give Ray the all-clear and we remove the masks to inhale our first taste of natural air. We retch and cough. It smells like ass. More specifically, it's like a mixture of rotting leftovers and seawater. I had imagined it to be more pleasant, but I guess this is what earth is supposed to smell like.

It takes us a few more awful breaths to become acclimated and for the bitterness to leave the back of our throats. Flashlights in hand, we tether the Skipper to shore. I jump out first, but as my feet touch the ground, my knees buckle and I fall over.

"You all right?" Ray points his light at me.

"Yeah, no problem. Just tripped," I lie. There was nothing in my way. The ground was just too firm, too steady compared to what I'm used to in my constantly floating world on Vanguard.

Since I'm kneeling, I use the opportunity to take a small clump of dirt into my hands. It's dark and sticky, nothing like the seashell-rich sand on the ocean floor. Lifting it to my nose, I take a careful whiff. It's definitely what I smelled before. Maybe I haven't been missing out after all.

"Son of a bitch!" my partner curses, landing in a heap next to me. "You could have given me a heads up, man."

I laugh as I stand up and wipe the soil from my hands. Now that I know to be aware of it, it's easier to counteract the foreign sensation of standing on something that's not moving. I'm not sure what the land equivalent of 'sea legs' is, but not having it sure feels weird. Never in my life have I been in this situation, so no wonder it takes my body a while to adjust. I neglected to warn Ray because I didn't want to let him miss out on the experience. Plus, messing with him is always fun.

"Yeah, ha-ha. Well, since this is your mission, what's the game plan?" he asks while pushing himself up.

I nod toward the distance. "The lights were among those trees over there. Better start with those."

He doesn't object, so we jog about one hundred yards through the hip height grass. I drag my palm over the sharp tips, wishing we could stop to examine every tiny part of this new environment in detail, but our time is limited. Finding the source of those lights is more critical. We can explore at another time.

Standing at the edge of the forest, we see that the entire area is overgrown. Not even the moonlight is able to penetrate the dense foliage. We pass under pines – some must be at least a hundred feet tall – as well as various hardwoods I don't recognize. Stray vines criss-cross between them, having invaded the giants' territory.