Evolution

thick, pasty, misty, heavy yet unoppressive. To someone like me, who has grown up surrounded by machines, feeling nature felt strange and beautiful, like a primordial memory buried deep in my consciousness, a memory unremembered until I saw it before me. It was almost, dare I say, spiritual, or the closest thing to spiritual I had ever experienced.

Samuel was taking it in, too. He paused a moment, taking a deep breath of the humid air. In the distance, thunder crackled — not an angry, dry crackle like the Wasteland. It was calm, sedate, almost…promising. It’s very hard for me to describe something I’ve only experienced once. The wind was coming from the north, the direction of the distant mountains lost in nighttime shadow. That wind was cool, smelling wet and fresh, carrying with it the smell of pine and other aromas I could not recognize. It was mid-December now, though it didn’t feel it. It must have been seventy degrees outside. I remembered Ashton mentioning how Mexico’s climate hadn’t cooled as much as America’s due to Ragnarok. Standing there, I could feel it.

“Let’s get moving,” Samuel said.

We hit the ground, walking quickly for the trees. I held my Beretta in my right hand. It was loaded and fully operational should the need arise. The grass and pliant turf under my boots was soft. Up until this point, I had always walked on hard surfaces — metals, linoleum, rocks. At points, the ground was squishy from a previous rain. As it thundered again, I realized — it rained here. Rain was a miraculous thought, a thing of stories, a phenomenon I had only seen in movies, had read in books, had heard tell of by the old in Bunker 108. And now, I might finally get to see it. I might finally get to feel it.

As we walked toward the tree line, thunder boomed again. With it came a desperate rush of wind, and with that the first few, fat drops. The cold sensation as the drops splattered my face was pleasant, and made me smile.

We entered the thickness of the trees. It was dark, so we got out our flashlights.

“We won’t go too far in,” Samuel said. “I just want to make sure nothing’s going to jump out at us.”

Lightning cracked the sky, for a split second illuminating the forest in shadowy green.

“We need to be prepared for anything,” Samuel said. He paused, listening for a moment. “This area’s clear. Let’s walk around the entire perimeter.”

For the next ten minutes, we reconnoitered. We stuck to the outer fringes of the clearing as the storm advanced. Then, the rain suddenly came down in a torrent, soaking and chilling me to the bone. It was like some god had opened a heavenly window. The rain fell and fell, and lightning slashed the sky. It was apocalyptic and threatening and violent, in its own way. Gusts of wind bent the trees so far sideways that I did not see how they remained intact.

“Let’s get back,” Samuel shouted.

I didn’t argue, and we headed back to Odin. Once we made it to the boarding ramp, soaking wet, I saw that both Anna and Makara were already standing there. They, too, must have never seen rain before. The ship itself provided an awning with its outstretched, starboard wing. Waterfalls dripped from the wing’s sides as the lightning continued to slash the clouds and thunder in the forest.

We all said nothing as we watched. It was like we were drinking in the raw nature we had been deprived of our whole lives.

As the storm gained in intensity, my feeling of calm wonder slowly became one of rising alarm. This all came to a head when a jagged line of molten white speared itself from the sky, igniting a tall tree with a thunderous crack. I felt the heat of it, even from where I was, despite the coolness of the wind.

“Better get inside,” Makara said.

I decided that was a good idea. I followed her in. I paused at the open door, looking back at Samuel and Anna, who both stood, as if transfixed. I thought about warning them. But, Makara pulled my sleeve, and I stepped in after her. The door hissed shut behind me.

We said nothing in the metallic gray of the ship, only turning left down the corridor to head to our bunks. On either side was an open archway — within each room were four bunks. Makara paused before the right-hand doorway, giving me a tired glance before ducking inside the dark room.

I went into my own cabin, and laid down on my back, facing upward. Though we left at morning according to Skyhome time, my sleep of the night before had been restless, and the dark night outside just made me want to sleep even more. Coaxed by the sound of falling rain and thunder, both dimmed from the ship’s shell and walls, I closed my eyes, feeling sleep take hold almost instantly.

Chapter 7

The next day dawned hot and muggy. The water on the ground rose up in steam. It was hard to believe it was so warm, even though it was only early morning.

I started off by cramming myself into the ship’s tiny shower. Once done, I stepped out and dried off, dressing in my green camo pants and a green shirt. The environment down here was a little different from the Wasteland, and for that reason I had decided to forgo my desert camo hoodie. That hoodie had been with me since my escape from Bunker 108, but I probably couldn’t make it one mile wearing it. It would be waiting for me here upon my return.

From the kitchen came the sounds of cooking — pots clanging, food simmering, a spatula scraping. I went to the doorway, finding Samuel cooking breakfast. It was a strange picture. The last person I expected to be the ship’s cook was now frying up four hearty omelets, filled with tomatoes, green peppers, mushroom, and chopped onion. Four pieces of bread popped from the nearby toaster.

“Where’d you learn to cook like that?” I asked.

Samuel shrugged. “I cooked a lot when I lived in Bunker 114. I got pretty good at it.” He gave each omelet a flip with his spatula. “I’ve only recently learned how to cook eggs. After all, I haven’t tasted a real one until Skyhome.” He smiled. “Don’t see how I’ve gotten on without them.”

“Either way,” I said. “I’m starving.”

Makara and Anna sat at the table, located outside the kitchen in the ship’s galley. The galley was located near the entrance. Gazing outside the kitchen doorway, I could see them both sitting on opposite ends of the table, still looking half-asleep.

“Hey,” I said. “Breakfast.”

They got up and walked to the kitchen just as Samuel finished putting an omelet and a piece of toast on four separate plates.

“This might be our last good meal for a while, so I don’t want any leftovers.” He eyed Anna and Makara severely. Both gave him a nonchalant grunt.

We took our food to the table, and ate in silence. Even if no one was talking, it felt good to have the crew together again. I chowed down on the fresh food, washing it down with black coffee. I had taken to the stuff ever since coming to Skyhome, and hoped I wouldn’t have to go too long without it.

While we ate, Samuel reviewed what the day’s agenda was — head south, locate the settlement along the main Imperial road, and camp out until the next morning. Tomorrow, we would follow the road at a distance, scoping it out. If it was safe, we would follow it. If not, we would slog through the wilds all the way to Nova Roma. Hopefully, that didn’t have to happen.

Once finished, Makara and I washed dishes while Anna and Samuel prepped everyone’s gear. By the time Makara and I had put everything away, all our packs were lined neatly by the door.

I checked my Beretta one last time. It was locked and loaded, filled with seventeen rounds of ammunition. I carried two clips on my belt, opposite my combat knife, and had more ammo available in the pack. The pack was stuffed with food, water, and the camping gear we would need when we settled down for the night. My boots were laced, and I had managed to scrounge a headband to keep my lengthening hair out of my face while on the trail.

At last, we stepped outside into the hot morning. Makara shut the door and pressed a few numbers into the keypad. The door clicked itself shut.

“Don’t forget that combo,” I said.

“Oh no,” she said, feigning distress. “I just did.”