2 An Eternity At Sea | Signal One: M.A.D
It is estimated that 95% of the ocean and 99% of the ocean floor is unexplored.
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Brooklyn put down her pen, running her hand through her dark, brown, medium-length hair. She closed the heavy journal and leaned back as far as she could in her office chair, sighing.
"This is finally happening..." she whispered to herself. This would be the last night she would spend in what was left of her home. It was a nice beach house which gave a breath-taking view of the sand and the large expanse of water known as the Atlantic Ocean. She pushed her chair back and walked over to the large mirror she had propped against the wall, looking herself over. Her favorite white and lavender colored striped collared shirt was on. It was a bit hot in her room, so she had rolled up the sleeves. A tattered pair of jeans with a brown belt was wrapped around her waist. She examined her face and noticed her amber eyes looked a bit less lively than usual. It made sense, as she hadn't gotten a wink of sleep the night before.
She was staring at her reflection when a loud knocking came from the door. She snapped up and yelled, "Come in!". A second later the door to her room swung open, revealing a tall man with short red hair and a stubby beard standing in the doorframe. He had a plain white t-shirt with several patches of dirt covering it, and gray jeans also smattered with various substances.
"We need you down at the dock." he said, almost out of breath. He looked exhausted.
"Jeez, Brad, you okay? You look dead on your feet." Brooklyn remarked, looking him up and down. He gave a weak smile.
"You're one to speak, Brook. Anyway, you just need to make sure your room onboard is fine and do a general check o' the area. Hey, maybe after, we could all loot the bar and see if there's any form of drink left." he twirled his pointer fingers around each other, clearly fantasizing over whatever he expected to find at the bar.
"That's ridiculous. We both know there's nothing there anymore." she explained, shrugging. Brad's expression turned visibly sour, and he pouted, crossing his arms.
"When was the last time we checked? I mean, it's been at least..." he did some quick math in his head. "...four months?"
"Make that four days. I saw you sneaking out the other night. It's pretty obvious where you were going." A bit shocked that Brook had caught him in his ruse, Brad let out an exasperated laugh.
"Yeah, yeah, so what if I did. I didn't look very hard, there's prolly loads of stuff I missed." Clearly another lie, Brook deduced. Brad's thought was interrupted as he noticed a large novel on Brook's bedside counter. He strolled over and picked it up, examining it.
"M...A...D? Mad? Is this, like, an anger management book or somethin'?" Brad asked, flipping through it.
"No, no. M.A.D. It stands for Mutually Assured Destruction." When Brad cocked his head, Brook decided she would have to explain it in more detail.
"Mutually Assured Destruction, or, M.A.D. The bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki during World War II propelled us into the Cold War, which is when this theory was conceived. Basically, it stated that, with the invention of nuclear weapons, war would come to a global standstill due to the fact that we could destroy entire civilizations with the press of a button. If one side were to launch a nuke, the other would retaliate with their own bomb, and so forth until the world was in ruins."
Brad laughed. "Ironic, innit?" Brook chuckled, but hers was more sad.
"Yeah, that 'global standstill' stuff turned out to be bull. We witnessed it firsthand five years ago, didn't we?" Brook remarked, then shook her head. She stood up, suffering a slight headrush. After recovering, she pushed past Brad, who was looking at the book in stunned disbelief.
"Well, I'm going down to the dock. You wanna come with?" Brook asked Brad, who nodded and followed her as she went down the stairs and out the front door. They walked in silence down the street towards the beach, making their way past the next few decimated neighborhoods, occasionally stopping and paying silent respect for the families who used to occupy the homes. Finally, they came to the long, wooden dock, which was left relatively untouched from the bombs. It lead into the murky waters of the Atlantic Ocean, which was topped by the boundless orange-tinted sky.
"Who knew all the nukes would affect the sky itself?" Brook sighed.
"Nobody could've, really. All the stuff floating around after the initial wave of explosions went and got carried all the way up into the atmosphere, which really screwed it up." Brad shook his head. The duo walked onto the dock, and, almost immediately, their eyes were drawn to the large seaborn object known as the USS Mystic tethered to a few wooden post. It was shaped like a tinier, grey sea cruiser with a long, rectangular portion on top containing the six rooms which would hold the crew. There was an extendable metal crows nest on top, and, at the front of the boat, was a tiny cube with glass windows which was the navigation room.
"Hey! You two, over here!" Their admiration of the cruiser was cut short as a voice reached their ears. The source came from a tall, lean woman with darker skin, short black hair, and hazel eyes. She was wearing rolled up brown jeans and a tucked-in white shirt with several pockets on it.
"Oy, Celeste! 'Ow's it going?" Brad called out to her, and she strolled over to them.
"Not bad. Hey, Brook. How's it hangin'?" Celeste walked over and hugged Brook, who laughed.
"Super. Only two existential crisis' today!" she exclaimed. Celeste chuckled, then embraced Brad. "Hey! Maya! Come say hi to Mr. Bradley and Ms. Brook!" She called out to the beach. A dozen or so feet away was a small child who looked almost exactly like a tiny version of Celeste. She was wearing a bright purple dress with a smiling pony plastered on it. She simply waved to the two, then returned to a big sand castle she was creating. Brook chuckled.
"How old is Maya now, again?" she asked.
"Just turned seven. Wanna know what we did for her birthday? We raided a television store a few cities over and somehow managed to find a completely intact VCR tape of a season of 'My Small Horses'. Now she has a slight obsession with it."
Brad grinned. "She's such a brave little girl. How did you get to the city?"
Celeste let out a small, sad sigh. "We used up the last of the gas left in our car. I figured since we were gonna leave Mystic, anyway...might as well have one last hurrah, y'know?"
Brook nodded. "I did the same thing, except it was grabbing a bunch of guns and other tools from Stonington, to the east. Ran into a gang of people who obviously had radiation sickness, and they picked a fight with me. Let's just say...the guns from the store still work properly." she glanced down at her feet guiltily as she finished the story. She still hadn't gotten used to ending other people's lives even though she had been doing it for years.
Almost as if he had been reading her mind, Brad said "Don't worry 'bout it. We'll never have to do it again after we escape this hellhole." Brook smiled at him, and gave a weak thumbs-up. All of a sudden, a large thudding noise came from behind Celeste, and the group turned to look at the source. Somebody had jumped down from the top of the ladder leading up to the ship and landed on the dock. It was a smaller teen with messy blonde hair and a green gatsby cap on top of it. He had a matching sweater vest and grey undershirt above a pair of baggy black jeans.
"G'day, everybody! Hope I didn't startle ya!" he said in a fake cockney accent, then laughed.
"You're still wearing that stupid getup?" Celeste sighed. Brad was trying so hard to stifle a laugh he had tears in his eyes. Brook just chuckled silently.
"What do ya mean, madam? I'm thinkin' I'm quite dapper in this!" the boy, who was nineteen, mind you, tipped the hat towards Celeste and did a little bow.
"You need to grow up, Ace!" Celeste scolded him, then tried to yank off his cap. Ace ducked the attack, then dodged another hand and ran behind Brad, taking cover. Celeste sighed and shook her head.
Ace dropped the accent, returning to his usual, higher voice. "Okay, but I do look pretty good in this, don't I? Found all of it in the back of a thrift shop in the "Free" bin! Free! Someone tried giving this stylish attire away for free!" Ace did a tiny spin, then clicked his tongue.
"God help me with this boy..." Celeste grumbled, then began climbing up the ladder into the boat. "Come up and check yall's rooms when you're ready!" she shouted behind her as she disappeared.
"Who pissed in her coffee this morning?" Ace exclaimed, disgusted. This sort of language wasn't uncommon for Ace.
"It is kinda ridiculous, Ace." Brook said. He just simply shook his head, then sighed dramatically.
"Et tu, Brook? I actually kind've like this look on me. Gives off early 1900's street vibes, doesn't it?"
"Yeah, but...y'know what, I don't care. Beauty in the eye of the beholder and all that." Brook caved in, flicking a hand up dismissively. Ace chuckled, then spun around.
"I'll be takin' my leave, now. Gonna grab the last batch of stuff from my place and say goodbye to the place." he jogged away merrily.
"How can someone be so damn energetic?" Brook shook her head.
"Kid had a hard life. He was born and raised on the streets, minus the parents. Stole and robbed 'till he was fourteen and the bombs hit. You gotta admit he's been a good addition to our group of survivors." Brad explained, looking sad.
"I couldn't imagine what it would be like to be that young and have your life flipped upside down. I mean, in a morbid way, it was good he had nothing left to lose when it happened." Brook said.
"And poor little Maya doesn't even remember a pre-WWIII world." Brad sighed. The two stood in silence, quietly contemplating their sorrows when Brad tapped her on the shoulder.
"We're here for a reason. C'mon, let's make sure everything is in order." he said, walking over to the ladder and climbing up. Brook silently followed, weighed down by doubts and tragedy. Whatever the future had in store couldn't be good, but she would face them no matter what it took.
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An Eternity At Sea | Signal One: M.A.D
By SevenTheWriter
