by Miles Harman
Am I really limited to even this life? Is my purpose any less self serving than artificial experiences inside the chamber? I‘m also capable of killing when my life is at stake, so am I any better than the men outside? Circumstances can make a good heart kill and an ugly mind obey. There must be a true nature of humanity beyond circumstances, where an unalterable innocence is found. This is the place I yearn to discover.
*****
Waking in the dark vessel, I quickly eat breakfast, anxious to leave. Climbing out of my sleeping bag, I pack my backpack and climb the ladder to the sled. Armed with radiation detection badges, I can now safely explore inland. My exploration will begin in Pearl Harbor which was sheltered from fallout during the attack.
Anchoring outside the exposed basin, I hike inland, entering the mouth of Pearl Harbor. Soon standing next to the USS MISSOURI, I stare in awe at the ship, over a century old. Sitting on top of the frozen coral, it was stuck in port when the ocean dropped. The eastern side displays severe damage from the nuclear blast.
I pass the USS ARIZONA, also fully exposed by the retreating sea. Large holes litter the sides from damage inflicted during the surprise attack and decades of corroding underwater. The sacrifices made by the men the day she sank, were at a time when the world emerged into a different chaos. Unlike most of the people at the end of my world, the men in this ship retained their honor when departing this world.
Continuing inland, foundations of swept away structures appear. Soon, larger concrete buildings become visible. With the radiation badge still clear, I continue onto the remnants of the elevated freeway.
Walking the freeway towards ground zero, I see the icy crater from the blast. Bent skeletal remains of buildings line the snowy landscape. With nothing intact, the island is devoid of life. I return through Pearl Harbor, past the old warships, and back to the sail sled on the edge of the ice.
Sailing around the southwestern tip of Oahu and up the western coast, a few larger buildings remain, but nothing looks promising enough to support life. Staring across the vast channel to the west under a darkening sky, I’m unable to see any sign of Kauai. Crossing the white abyss will be the most dangerous part of my journey.
I set up camp on the far northwestern tip of Oahu at nightfall. Camping here, I’ll set sail for Kauai at first light and hope to be within visual range by nightfall tomorrow, when I will sleep amidst the emptiness. Eating my dinner inside the tent, the swift wind howls outside.
Inside my sleeping bag, thinking of the vast expanse between Oahu and Kauai waiting for me tomorrow makes me uneasy. The uneasiness is only outweighed by my desire to know if I’m alone, pushing me past the fear. Knowing nothing will stop me from finishing my journey, I drift asleep with the tent flapping in the breeze.
Chapter 24
Into The Void
“It’s only after we’ve lost everything
that we’re free to do anything.”
-Tyler Durden, Fight Club
A relatively calm and clear day greets me awake. I must be in visual range of Kauai before nightfall, or I risk disorientation. Quickly packing, I’m soon sailing to the west into white nothingness. The sky lightens, increasing my chances of spotting Kauai.
Miniscule western peaks on Oahu are soon the only landmarks in white emptiness. Stopping to eat lunch, I look around. I’m a speck in the vast Pacific Ocean, now transformed into a massive ice sheet stretching for thousands of miles in each direction. Finishing lunch, I sail into nothingness while the faint outline of Oahu disappears behind me.
Traveling for several hours my only guide is the angle of the wind against the sail. I’ll travel straight as long as it doesn’t shift. A snowflake hits my goggles, followed by another. The darkening sky makes me uneasy.
Sailing towards the obscured horizon, the wind picks up. Still unable to see land, snow falls more intensely, and the wind strengthens. Soon the sail sled is difficult to control. A blizzard is quickly rolling in on top of me from the west.
There isn’t time to turn around. I must secure the sled to the ice and take shelter inside until it passes. Using four ice anchors on each corner, I secured the sled with ropes. Struggling to tie off the last corner, the sled rattles violently against the ice. I shelter myself inside just as the howling wind, intense snow, and dark sky come in full force.
The sled rattles beneath me. I hold on tight, hoping she will hold until the blizzard passes. The wind increases, shaking everything. Peering outside, intense snow whips against the sled, piling around the edges.
Minutes pass, seeming like hours. The front of the sled pounds into the ice with every gust that catches underneath the body. A section of panel splits by my feet under the intense force, shooting a cold gust of wind inside. The sled is breaking apart at the seams.
Quickly grabbing the slack from the rear anchor rope, I tie it firmly around my waist. The front panel breaks off, and cold wind sweeps away several bags of food stuffed inside. Reaching down for the loose items, I manage to save one bag of food and the pistol, shoving them inside my cold weather suit. The split continues along the left side, allowing more and more wind and snow to enter. I strain to my feet again, this time taking my father’s journal and my reality notebook, shoving them into my coat.
The split reaches the back corner, instantly removing the entire top of the sled and the mast, carrying them into the sky. Fierce wind pelts my body, scattering the remainder of my gear in all directions. The bottom half of the sled thrashes against the loose ropes. Rolling into the snow, I’m still secured to the stake by the rope. The bottom portion of the sled disappears into the white abyss.
Lying flat, I cling desperately to the rope tethered in the ice. The wind howls and snow bombards me from all sides. How did this happen? I’m alone, have no shelter or transportation. Land is out of sight, and the safety of the compound is hundreds of miles away. One bag of food and a pistol are my only possessions, and I’m trapped in a blizzard that shows no sign of relenting.
Chapter 25
A Turning Point
“You must be the change you wish to see in the world.”
-Mohandas Gandhi
Lying on the ice, hours pass into night. Snow covers my body while I drift in and out of broken sleep. Over the course of the endless night, I analyze every aspect of my life. Thoughts of my parents, Allison, my returning memories, my dreams, the destruction of this world, and this journey all battle for my attention.
At some point along the way these things take backstage to what I’ve learned about myself. I’m more than the sum of anything I do or experience, in my dreams or awake. With this, I can forget all else but survival once the storm lifts. I fall asleep shivering inside my cold weather suit.
Opening my eyes, I’m surrounded in darkness. Rolling over, the snow falls away from my goggles and a dimly lit white landscape emerges. The blizzard passed. Still no land, but I’m grateful to be alive. All that remains of the sail sled are four stakes and two pieces of rope lying before me. Taking the ropes from the ground, I inventory the contents of my pockets- one bag of food, the pistol with one clip, two notebooks, my father’s watch, and my mother’s gold necklace. Everything else is gone.
I must find land. Should I try to return to Oahu? Already exploring this island, it holds nothing to eat or any way to get me home, but it is in the direction of home. Should I go to Kauai? This island is farther from home but may have a habitable site. With neither choice very promising, I choose the unknown, Kauai.
What will keep me from walking in circles? Looking down, I see the orientation of the stakes in the ice, evidencing my original direction of travel. Knowing which way I was traveling yesterday, how can I be sure to continue in the same direction once sight of my only reference is lost?
A slight breeze from the north hits my right side. My only option is the wind. Taking a string from my undershirt, I tie it to the end of the pistol and let it flap in the breeze. If the wind stays at the same relative angle, I should walk in a
straight line.
Wandering into nothingness, I try not to think what will happen if I miss land. Continuing for hours, I block out any thoughts of missing Kauai entirely and dying of freezing or starvation.
Taking a midday break for lunch, I eat only a small ration, knowing I need to conserve my meager supply. I continue into the unknown. Even here, facing my own death, I’m more alive than I’ve ever been dreaming inside the chamber.
The channel is over ninety miles across, and I traveled at least sixty miles before the storm yesterday. Walking for the better part of today, I must have covered at least fifteen miles. Kauai should be in sight. Frustrated, I force myself to keep walking.
The sky darkens while I continue traveling late in the afternoon. I fear sleeping on the ice another night, chilled to my core. I picture my father, hiking down into Haleakala Crater, meeting a similar frozen demise. I don’t want to die this way.
While the afternoon light fades into an evening sky, a large structure protrudes from the ice a ways in front of me. I must be delusional. Taking a second look, it appears to be a large oil tanker, frozen into the icy surface.
Maybe I can at least find shelter here for the night. I search the steel hull for an entrance. The tanker has been frozen into the ice for a long time, just like the submarine. Are there similar ships scattered around the world, stuck in the middle of nowhere during the worldwide freeze? No means of entry is visible, so I check the far side.
Rounding the stern, a rope ladder leads to the top of the vessel a few yards away. Going for the ladder, I spy a hose dangling over the side, nearly touching the ground at the far end of the tanker. Connected to the hose is a jeep, sitting on the icy surface. Two humans stand next to the jeep, pumping fuel into the gas tank. A third smaller, dark figure emerges next to them, and rapidly descends upon me.
Chapter 26
Interwoven Destiny
“A person often meets his destiny
on the road he took to avoid it.”
-Jean de La Fontaine
The angry eyes of a ravenous dog barrel down on me. Jumping on the rope ladder, I scramble out of reach, no time to spare. From the top of the tanker, I look at the circling dog and two men below.
I yell down, “I’m Gabriel and mean no harm. Can you help me?”
The larger man yells, “This is our tanker and island. You’re not welcome here and are going to regret coming.”
He quickly climbs the ladder before I can pull it up. The second man follows. I need to take control of the situation and make these men understand. Pulling out the pistol, I chamber a round and turn the safety off. Aiming at the top of the ladder, I wait. His angry eyes emerge over the rail and widen at the sight of the pistol aimed at his face.
Staring into his angry beady eyes, I see evil. “I came here to find survivors. I don’t want to hurt anyone so if you won’t help me, I’ll just be on my way.”
Recalling the men in the garage holding my father captive, I know he is trying to get the upper hand. This man will kill without hesitation. Without the pistol I would have a serious problem.
“You and your friend need to leave before someone gets hurt!” I shout.
Unwilling to kill anyone, even for a working vehicle, I plan to watch where they go. A solitary light gleams from the now visible island of Kauai. The men quickly leave in the jeep, disappearing towards the light. I won’t be here when they return.
Scrambling down the ladder, I follow the jeep tracks towards the light. The first people encountered in fifteen years want to kill me! Is this the meaning I left the compound for? How can they not value my life in a world devoid of life? Jogging down the tracks into the night, I near the shore.
Two lights emerge from the solitary light and move towards me. Each light divides into two more lights. Two vehicles are coming in my direction. They are soon on the ice, speeding towards me in the night. Hoping not to be seen, I lay flat and motionless. The two jeeps pass too close for comfort.
Two vehicles- I’m probably dealing with five to eight people. The two sets of taillights trail off towards the tanker, presumably to protect their property. Now may be my only chance to investigate. I run the remaining distance to land, then down an icy road leading towards the solitary light. The taillights disappear behind me into the darkness.
Gripping the loaded pistol firmly in my hand, I run to the light, which now illuminates buildings, similar to the ones in my dream at the wind turbine farm. Cautiously approaching the buildings, I slow to a walk, and my heart races. Wind turbines hum above in the steady breeze.
The light is mounted to a wall, illuminating the nearby buildings and a third jeep. There’s no sign of movement or activity except the hum of the turbines. I follow a dark wall. There aren’t windows on any buildings, save one pane on a door under the light. These buildings must be converted into greenhouses.
Eyeing the abandoned jeep, I’ll take it and slip away into the night, returning home to the Big Island. Slowly approaching the brightly illuminated jeep, I look inside for the keys. None in sight.
I need to act fast before the other vehicles return. I peer inside the window pane on the door nearby. The room is small and empty with another door in the back leading to additional rooms. Quietly, I turn the knob and slip inside, gun drawn.
A brightly lit room and a large table are behind the next door. Muffled male and female voices come from a back room. Quietly, I listen.
“These potatoes are crap! Nearly half of a crop lost! You are a worthless gardener. Do you need a reminder of who is in charge? Do you?” A man yells.
“I’m sorry, please don’t…” A pan crashes against a wall in the next room. Some keys lay on the table a few feet away from me. Now is my chance.
Another loud crash comes from the room. A scream echoes, and a woman emerges in fear, just when I snatch the keys. Time stops, our eyes meeting in silence. Staring into familiar eyes, I can utter but one word- “Allison?”
Just then a large man emerges, his eyes meeting mine in a ferocious stare.
Chapter 27
Love Renewed
“If you love life, life will love you back.”
-Norman Vincent Peale
Allison looks bewildered while the man shouts, “Who the hell are you? You must be that man the guys went to take care of. I’ll finish you myself.”
Taking a large knife from behind, he approaches in a murderous rage.
Pulling the pistol from my side, I say, “That’s far enough. Drop the knife!”
Stopping, he looks at me with anger and fear.
“Sit down facing the wall.”
I cock the gun. Hesitating for a moment, he turns and faces the wall.
I shift my focus, “Allison, it’s me, Gabriel. You’re still alive!”
Her eyes light up.
While giving her a hug, she cries and mumbles, “I need to get out of here.”
“I will take you somewhere safe.”
She nods, and we leave after tying up the man. Soon inside the jeep, it starts, but only has half a tank of gas- not nearly enough to make it home. I check two spare gas cans on the side of the building, but they are empty. Taking them, I climb back in and shift into reverse.
“Allison, we need to stop at the tanker for gas.”
She nods.
“That’s where the rest of the men went to find me so we aren’t out of the woods yet.”
Putting the jeep in gear, we drive towards the exit with the headlights off.
“We’ll drive across the ice and park to the side in darkness until the other jeeps return. Once they’re clear, we’ll top off the jeep and spare tanks at the tanker and then slip away to the Big Island where they’ll never find us.”
Reaching the exit, I turn towards the coast. Two pairs of headlights come into view a hundred yards ahead. Too late to hide, I drive towards the approaching vehicles.
Passing near the first vehicle, I make eye contact with the large man who was going to kill me on the t
anker. He breaks, coming to a stop. I quickly floor the gas to gain distance. Passing the second jeep, I turned the wheel violently into the rear corner panel, spinning it off the road, and bouncing us back towards the ice. Struggling to gain control, I watch the other jeep spin into a ditch. Gaining a little distance, the first jeep is soon behind us. Knowing they have more gas, outrunning them isn’t an option.
We leave Kauai and drive onto the icy surface. Two headlights follow close behind. I need more time. Turning the steering wheel while pushing the E-brake causes the jeep to spin around and come to a stop. Facing the approaching vehicle, I climb out. Standing in the headlight beams, I draw my pistol.
The first jeep barrels down at an accelerating speed. Just before impact, I dive to the side, and fire three shots at the right tires. The jeep loses control, sliding sideways until catching a rough patch of snow. The top-heavy vehicle gains traction and rolls on its side, sliding to a stop.
I get back into the jeep with Allison and speed through the night towards the tanker. Several shots are fired by the men who climb out of the overturned jeep, striking the vehicle’s steel skin. Knowing only minutes are gained, I welcome the sight of the tanker emerging in the darkness. Pulling next to the fuel hose, I waste no time filling the gas tank. Allison hands me the reserve tanks which I begin to fill while she climbs back inside.
Another set of headlights catches my eye in the distance. The second jeep is now free from the ditch. Men shout and a dog growls somewhere unseen in the night while the first reserve tops off. I place it in the jeep and return for the second reserve which fills under the dangling hose.
Out of the night, the angry dog dashes through the air, violently grasping the arm of my cold weather suit and taking me to the ground. We roll into the nearly full fuel can, knocking it over and to the side. The angry dog snaps at my neck and face several times. My adrenaline peaks as a large puddle of fuel grows on the snow around us. The men will be here soon, and that will be the end.
With a burst of energy I break free of the dog and kick him away. Grasping for the jeep door, I stumble inside a second before the dog jumps against the driver’s side window. The second spare tank will be left behind. We’ll make do with only one.