After Trent and Jess, uh... spent the night in the backseat of our car while Morgan and I slept inside of the store, I flat out refused to sit in the backseat. No one else wanted to drive, so I drove for a few miles.
We reached a harbor and were delighted to find a single boat. It was about a quarter mile out to sea. Morgan said he can drive the boat, but that there's no way he could swim that far with just one arm. So Trent swam out there while the rest of watched fearfully from the shore.
No great beast of the sea rose to swallow Trent whole and he made it onto the boat. After a while, he managed to get it moving and brought it as close as possible to the harbor. Once the boat was close enough, Jess and I helped Morgan reach it using a life preserver.
Upon reaching the boat, Morgan donned a life jacket. Falling overboard without one could spell death for him. While Morgan was getting set up, Trent and I went back to shore to fetch all the supplies we took from the convenience store, which had all been stuffed into my backpack.
Morgan gave us the rundown of our situation once Trent and I returned to the boat. The vessel doesn't have a lot of range. With the fuel in the tank and the fuel that's stored below deck, we can reach Ireland, Iceland, the UK, or (if we really push it and are willing to risk being so close to the U.S.) Cuba.
Ireland is out for sure--it was hit by a Renewer some time ago. The UK took a couple hits, too, but there should still be safe zones, even by the time we get there. They're also sympathetic toward imperfects and support the war against the United States, so odds are in our favor, there.
Jess added the final note in support of the UK as our destination: she has a cousin in Liverpool who will likely give us a place to stay for a few days. That settled it.
There's bad news, though. Morgan needs to sleep every now and then, and doesn't feel safe just leaving the boat running unsupervised. The rest of us aren't confident that we can keep the vessel on course without Morgan's guidance.
Since at least 6 hours will be spent going nowhere each day, we're looking at more than 20 days at sea, especially since Morgan will be conserving fuel by shutting off the engines whenever the wind is favorable, thus slowing us down. A lot can happen in 20 days, particularly during a war, and even the vast amount of food we stole will have to be rationed if it's going to last us that long.
But as I sit on this deck, writing in my journal, I don't believe it'll be too bad. The sea is beautiful. There's a star-filled night sky reflected in its waters, right now. I'm mesmerized, for the time being, though I don't know how much I'll love the sea by the end of the month.
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The Imperfect's Journal: 1General Fiction
This is the journal of Darren Stratt, an "imperfect" who is being hunted in America due to a new law which has stripped disadvantaged individuals--now called "imperfects"--of their rights. In Darren's journal, he documents the horrors of a world run...