Vanguard | Post-Apocalyptic YA

Part 23: Homecoming

I'd like to know if she and that Jed guy are a thing, but I'm certainly not stupid enough to lead with that. "Parents?" I ask instead.

"Dead."

Crap. I should have gone with the boyfriend question.

I clear my throat. "Uhm . . .."

"Go ahead," she says. "Ask why."

Oh no, she doesn't. Nothing good can come from this conversation, and I'm not taking the bait. "It's okay. You don't need to—"

"No, really," she cuts me off again. "I want to tell you how living topside in a post-apocalyptic wasteland has ruined my life. No use in sugarcoating the truth, after all."

I swallow hard. "Okay," I whisper. "How did your parents die?"

There's a moment of silence before she begins. When she does, her voice is strong, but distant. "Because so many doctors abruptly quit when it became apparent that they were just delaying the inevitable, pharmaceutical companies jacked up prices trying to make one last quick buck, and medical care got inaccessible to almost everyone except the mega-rich, my mom had to give birth to me at home without any real medication," she says in a way others would tell a bedtime story. "I may have not made it either if it weren't for the midwife with her, but not even she could do anything about the ruptured placenta that made my mom bleed out a few hours after delivery."

I can't imagine what it was like for her to grow up without a mom, and her tough attitude makes more sense. "And your dad?" I ask.

"Radiation poisoning."

"From being exposed to sunlight?"

She shakes her head. "Of course not. He wasn't that stupid." She shifts in my lap before continuing. "Dad knew what Bradford was up to. I mean he was part of the planning process. Six months ago, he went with two other men to the St. Lucie Nuclear Power Plant. He wasn't even supposed to tell me this, but he did because he wanted me to promise that if he didn't come back, I wouldn't go looking for him."

"And he didn't come back?" I guess.

"No."

"So you're assuming he died at the plant?"

"Yes."

"What were they doing there?" I ask, already knowing this answer, too. Vanguard—and by extension all of its craft like the Skippers and the ferries—operates on nuclear energy. If the people of O-town wanted to commandeer any of the ships, they'd need a localized power supply to recharge them.

"Looking for fuel for the ferries," she says, confirming my suspicions.

"Did anyone go after them, though?" I ask.

"They had a radio. We were in contact for the first six weeks. The trip down was long and rough—they could only travel at night, and even then they had to avoid rovers and mutants."

"But they made it to the plant?"

"Yeah. Dad found the Plutonium, too. He was going to remove it for transport the next day when things went radio silent. Literally," she says, her voice cracking at the end.

"Shit." The word wasn't meant to leave my brain, but somehow it spills from my lips. "Sorry."

"Me, too," she whispers.

After this, we sit in silence again because I'm not about to start asking any more questions. Nelly has also lost interest in the identity of every single marine animal that floats by, until a bright orange, opaque blob bobs into view.

"Is that a jellyfish?" she asks while following the creature with her eyes.

"Yeah, it's a sea nettle," I say, identifying the most common type of this bell-shaped invertebrate around these parts. Its tentacles softly dance in the current, but their sting can be as deadly as they are beautiful.

"Look, another one!" She exclaims, pointing into the distance to where the spotlight's reach ends and the darkness begins.

This second jellyfish also swims past us—its mushroom cap-like body pulsating with each contraction of a ring of muscles as it sucks water in before expelling it—but even before it's gone, two more appear. Those are quickly replaced with four others, and I reach around Nelly to pull a lever, decreasing our speed. If I'm right, it'll be slow going for a while anyway, but I'd rather it be controlled than out of necessity from a busted rotor. I'm soon proven right as the amount of sea nettles continue to multiply exponentially until we're in the middle of a swarm.

"Is this normal?" Nelly asks timidly, mesmerized by the sight of the hundreds—perhaps thousands—of undulating creatures.

"As normal as anything is these days," I say, taking the Skipper off auto-pilot and regaining control of the ship. "These blooms, which is what this massive gathering is called, seem to be getting more frequent every year as the ocean temperature keeps going up. They eat everything small enough in their path, so it throws the ecosystem off even more. But as long as we gently glide through them, we'll be fine," I add, sensing her body tense up.

It takes all of my concentration to safely navigate through what turns out to be a mile-long swarm of jellyfish. Granted, it may have been easier if I didn't have Nelly still sitting smack dab in my line of sight, but I gladly peek over her shoulders instead of asking her to go back to behind me on the floor. When the orb-shaped underwater structure I call home finally comes into view, I switch on my communications device to hail command.

"Wilhelm to Vanguard. Come in Vanguard, over," I say before Nelly even realizes what's happening.

It doesn't take long for her to act and she smacks my arm. "What are you doing? We can't sneak on and steal the ferries if you're going to announce your arrival like this," she seethes, angrier than I've ever seen her.

It doesn't matter because this is all part of my plan, soI grin with mock contrition. "I know. That's what I'm planning on."