Barren Waters - The Complete Novel: (A Post-Apocalyptic Tale of Survival)

by Julia Shupe

  -Jules Verne, Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea

  Chapter 26

  January 25th, 2177

  San Diego, California

  The Pacific Ocean

  “Guys, it won’t hurt you,” Jeremy called out from his blanket on the sand. He laughed at the two of them as they ran to the edge of the water and back. They would creep to its edge then scamper from the tide in a cacophony of giggles. “It won’t kill you, goofballs. You can at least dip your toes in it.”

  As usual they ignored him. The game was much more fun, he supposed. He turned his gaze to Sam and smiled. She looked amazing. Her burns had healed and she’d put on a fair amount of weight—at least ten pounds by Jeremy’s estimate. And for a girl as slim as she, ten pounds was noticeable. The morning they’d found the disk in the case, Jeremy and Seth had sat by her side and wept. The moment the meter at her belly had reached 100% was without a doubt the most satisfying of Jeremy’s life to date. Afterward, they’d moved her to a square of light by the door and coaxed her into drinking a bit of water. Seth had stayed by her side while Jeremy ran to his bike to retrieve the crowbar.

  It had taken him two hours, a stream of ugly curse words, and a sprained wrist to get through that security door, but in the end the reward was breathtaking. Rows and rows of unshipped disks waited just beyond the doors. Cartons of them, boxes, cases, and crates—more than enough to last Sam one hundred lifetimes or more.

  That’s the thing about the end of the world, Jeremy mused, all the stuff that remains, the overabundance for the few who are left behind. Sam was one of the lucky ones. No, Jeremy corrected—perhaps the only lucky one. The only one of her kind at least. It was quite a humbling thought, one that brought to mind images of street wars occurring all across the country at that very moment, of the struggles for power and the games of tug-of-war. It brought to mind visions of emaciated women, mothers pushing their ailing sons in the baskets of broken-down grocery carts. In this new world certain things had become more valuable then diamonds and Sam was now a very wealthy woman.

  The disk had immediately helped stabilize her health. As had the life they’d made for themselves at one of the highest peaks in Point Loma. Jeremy had expected the children to choose a monstrous mansion at the top of the highest cliff, a French chateau in the suburbs, or a posh penthouse in the gas lamp district. He thought they’d lay claim to a sprawling manner that overlooked the blue waves. And he was proud of himself. He had actually allowed them to make the final decision, had left the important choices completely up to them. The way he figured, it was his job to get them there. Let them now decide how they’d spend the rest of their lives. But to his surprise, they’d chosen modestly, a small yellow house at the highest rise, a dated, one-story ranch beneath a cluster of cedars and overhanging elms. At times Jeremy wondered if it reminded Sam of the cabin in Sevierville.

  The view was spectacular. Seth had scavenged for binoculars just like he’d wanted. He’d hold the twin convex lenses to his eyes and peer out across the Bay in the early dawn light. From their window, Jeremy could see as far as Tijuana, Mexico, and at some point he planned to scavenge for a powerful telescope to view the stars and beyond.

  The house they’d chosen was small and much older. Jeremy thought it might have been built in the late twentieth century. “Big love grows in small spaces,” Sam had said with a smile. Jeremy couldn’t agree more. They’d moved in and planted their garden, but the house was already replete with many natural gifts. Fragrant lemon trees, boughs heavy with ripened fruit, had already been planted by others against the west wall of the yard. The soil was black and rich with nutrients, and already their small seeds had begun to sprout. They’d planted spinach and kale, cherry tomatoes, and cucumbers. They’d planted peach trees and a row of once-famous California Nonpareil almond trees. They’d even harvested fully matured fruit, some from the yards of neighbor’s—but only the ones where no one was home.

  Jeremy didn’t think they were alone in San Diego. He wasn’t stupid. They couldn’t be. The land here was too rich, life too readily sustainable. Though they hadn’t seen anyone yet, they certainly hadn’t tried hard to look. They had too many other important things to do. Jeremy repeated the same scavenging strategy they had in Tennessee. He ventured out only at night and stuck close to home during the day. There was much to do at home anyway. For one, the house had to be cleaned and dusted. Old food, long dried and spoiled, needed to be removed from shelves. And the smelly refrigerator had to be dragged down the street. They’d set up a complex system of rain catchers atop the house’s roof, though it didn’t rain much in San Diego. It was something Jeremy knew they’d eventually have to find a solution to, but he didn’t worry about that much.

  Life had become deliciously regular. Their spirits had mended and their sore muscles had knitted and healed. It would take time to move past all that they’d seen and done, but the human spirit was nothing if not resilient. Jeremy dropped to the warm sand and closed his eyes. Bright spots of sunlight danced behind his eyelids. Sometimes still, he would wake up at night, sweating and frightened, unsure of where he was and panicked that the children weren’t beside him. He was so accustomed to sleeping in the same room that he had to retrain himself to the comforts of sleeping alone.

  At times he was proud, couldn’t believe they’d actually made it. At others he wondered if the decisions he made weren’t reckless and irresponsible, or if maybe he’d just gotten lucky with the results. At times he even wondered if he was a bad father. Sam was right. He had put all of his eggs in this one basket. Things could have gone much different. There were so many forks along the road they had travelled. Any one of them could have led to her death. But they hadn’t, and Jeremy thought it best not to dwell on the way things could have been.

  He turned his face to the spray of the surf. Susan would have liked it here. She loved the great Smokey Mountains of Tennessee, but he wondered if she would have liked this better. They didn’t have a new ark yet, but they were hard at work building one. She would be proud of that. Jeremy pushed himself up on an elbow, watched Sam and Seth playing on the beach. They were bent low and inspecting something, a shell perhaps, or a bit of smooth sea glass. Sam felt his gaze and scampered over.

  “What’d you guys find over there?”

  She was out of breath. “A crab! I think it’s a crab at least. It’s funny looking. It lives in a tiny shell and burrows beneath the sand when the waves rush out to sea.

  “A mole crab,” he said with wonder. “That’s amazing Sam.”

  “A mole crab? That’s a terrible name.”

  He grinned and shrugged. She was still big on names. “Well, that’s what they’re called.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “I think I’ll pick out a new name.”

  She turned her face to the wind and peered out over the water. Jeremy had allowed them to come down to the beach, but only because this day was so special. It was Seth’s birthday, or so he had said. Ten years old, he’d said triumphantly. Jeremy didn’t know if it was true or if he was just trying to catch up quicker to Sam, but he decided to play along.

  “I like it here,” Sam said under her breath. “I think Mom would have liked it too.”

  “Yup. I’m sure she would have.” He took a breath. “I’m glad you like it, Sam, because it’s yours now. All of it. It’s your future. Yours and Seth’s.”

  She turned to him. “And yours.”

  He laughed. “And mine. Mine and the mole crabs’ too.”

  “So I guess everything isn’t really dead out there then.”

  He squinted into the sun. “Guess not.”

  “Think we’ll see any fish? Seth is over there looking for some in the shallows.” She laughed. “He says he’s looking for shadows of fish. He says you can’t see their bodies because they’re too fast.”

  Jeremy shook his head. “No. I don’t think we’ll see any fish. Not us at least. Not your children or your children’s children. Maybe your children’s ch
ildren’s children’s children— but not us.”

  She cocked her head. “My children?”

  Jeremy sucked in a breath. The words had just come out. He hadn’t given any thought to their meaning, had taken for granted the promise they held. He shrugged and pointed toward Seth.

  “Yeah. Maybe. I mean why not? All you need to make a child is a man and a woman right?”

  She turned and peered at Seth, hand raised to her brow. Jeremy watched a slow smile split her face and she shook her head.

  “Eeeeew, Dad! That’s disgusting!”

  He laughed as she scampered away. He supposed five years was quite a gap to bridge at their age, but as time marched on, Jeremy was sure the friendship would deepen into love. He felt a lump rise in his throat. This was it. He’d really done it. He had actually done what he long thought impossible. This was what he and Susan had always wanted for Sam—a happy life, a secure home, and a lifelong companion; the possibility of family and children all her own. He smiled. Perhaps he wasn’t such a bad father after all. Maybe Liam would be proud.

  He basked in the sun and recalled the first time he’d seen Susan as more than just a girl with moles on the side of her face. She’d been bathing in the stream that ran behind their house, and guiltily he’d watched her—at least until she caught him. She’d screamed then laughed, then returned to the same spot the very next day. That memory always brought a smile to his face. It perfectly captured the spontaneity of her spirit and the serendipity of life. People seem to come into our lives at the exact time we need them to—and not a moment sooner.

  This was what he focused on as he watched his daughter giggling and scanning the beach for mole crabs. Perhaps humanity might survive this extinction after all. He turned his face to the glittering water and basked in the salt spray that bathed his face. Perhaps humanity was excellent at the survival part. Maybe it was just the preventative stuff that needed a bit of work. If humanity had just turned its energy and enthusiasm to initiatives that worked to protect and conserve—well, maybe there would have been a different outcome for everyone.

  Humanity had failed the sea. But perhaps our ingenuity and resilience could see us through any cataclysmic event. Or maybe it would be our devotion, our willingness to sacrifice for those we love. Maybe that would always save us in the end.

  The Reader’s Voice

  Dear Reader,

  I sincerely hope you enjoyed Barren Waters. Nothing means more than your voice. A review of what you’ve read—even if just a sentence or two—would mean so much.

  Thank you! Click HERE to post a review.

  Julia Shupe

  Acknowledgments

  Special thanks to my amazing husband, Nat. I know of no other man who would support me the way you have and do. This level of support reaches beyond the norm: the hours I spend crouched over a computer, the dishes that don’t get done, the dust that gathers in the corners of the room.

  Thank you for being my partner and inspiration, my best friend, and my confidant. Nothing means more than your love.

  Readers, thank you so very much. This has singularly been the most thrilling experience of my life. I can liken it to breaking a tiny piece of my heart from the whole and baring it for the world to see. I hope you enjoy the book and my work in the Sentinels of Kiln series.

  I have many more stories to tell.

  About the author

  Julia Shupe resides in Las Vegas, NV with her husband Nat, and their three cats; Tiger, Fred, and Baxter. She is the author of the Sentinels of Kiln series and will soon be releasing another science fiction novel as well as a thriller series.

  www.Juliashupe.com

  @Juliashupe33

  Facebook.com/julia.shupe

  Books by Julia Shupe

  Barren Waters

  Sentinels of Kiln Series

  Woven Realms

  Woven Quests

  Woven Destinies…Coming Soon

  Vanessa Stone Series

  Carved in Stone... Coming Soon