Rifts From The Sea (EMP Crash Book 8)

by Kip Nelson

  “What in the hell did you think you were doing?” Maggie asked when they were alone.

  “I understand you're frustrated with them, but that doesn't give you license to go off like that. I could understand it from Saul, but not from you. If this was the old world, you'd be pulled up for a disciplinary hearing, but now you've just got me.”

  “This badge,” she jabbed a finger into his chest, “means you must hold yourself to a higher standard than everyone else. We are human, but we have extra responsibilities and need to be more mindful of how we act. This badge doesn't give you the right to start fights or harass people you don't like, and if that's all you want it for, then I'm going to have to strip it from you and find myself a new deputy. I told you to try managing your emotions, but you wouldn't listen, and now you've seen what happens. I hope you've learned your lesson, because if you haven't, you won't be wearing that uniform for much longer.”

  Luis gave her a sullen nod and felt the weight of her stare, but he knew worse was going to come from Grace.

  “Take the day off, get yourself cleaned up, and come back tomorrow,” she ordered.

  Luis nodded again, and offered an apology as he left. The morning was crisp and the cold air made his skin ache even more. Stabbing and throbbing pains reverberated throughout his body, although most of them were centered on his stomach and face. It had been a long time since Luis had been in a fight, although that one was more intense than any of the other scrapes he had been involved in during high school. The adrenaline that had been coursing through his system had worn off long ago, replaced by pain. He licked his lips and felt the scab that was forming, and wondered how Saul was looking. Luis and Saul hadn't always had the best relationship, but he made a note to go thank him later. It was good to know that Saul, and others, had his back. He wished he could get their aid now as he dragged his heels on his way home.

  He opened the door. Grace was waiting for him, looking as though she hadn't slept at all. When she saw him her first reaction was one of concern. She hugged him tenderly, mindful of his wounds, then led him to the couch where she kissed him on the cheek and hugged him again. It wasn't what he had been expecting, and was waiting for the yelling to start. However, it did not. Grace had learned a lot from Mack, and one of things she had taken to heart very early on was the art of conflict resolution. She knew that speaking from a place of anger was not going to do either of them any good.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “I've been better. I'm aching all over, but there aren't any serious wounds. It'll just take time to heal. Maggie has given me the day off to recover, although I think it's also to protect me in case she tears my head off. She's really disappointed in me. I can see why,” he said, and looked forlornly at his badge. “How are you?”

  “Tired, sad, confused, and worried. That wasn't like you last night. That wasn't the Luis I fell in love with. What happened?”

  “I just hate the way those sailors have come here. They act as though nothing else matters other than what they want. And the way they treat you... it just drove me crazy. They were saying things… and I just lost it.”

  “You know I don't need my honor being defended. You played right into their hands. This is what they wanted.”

  “I know, I know, and I know you're angry with me, and you're right, this isn't me. I'm sorry, they just triggered something inside me.”

  “But why were you jealous in the first place? You know I never would have done anything with them. For one thing, they're not my type. I love you and I'm committed to you. I feel as though your being jealous is a sign you don't really trust me.”

  “It's not that at all,” Luis said, shock appearing on his face. “I mean, yeah, I don't exactly like the thought of other guys hitting on you. It's not that I don't trust you, it's that I just feel as though I should defend you when you're being disrespected.”

  “Okay...” Grace said, and it was clear she was trying to choose her words carefully so they didn't ignite an argument.

  “I understand where you're coming from, and that you think it's from a place of love, but I feel jealousy doesn't come from love at all. It comes from a possessive feeling. I'm my own person, and while it's great that you want to look out for me and protect me, I don't need you going and starting fights with other people. Our relationship is our business, and I thought we were stronger than that. I must be honest with you. I'm still finding my way through this. This is the first proper relationship I've ever had, so I'm still discovering things about myself and about us as a couple. But this... this is something I definitely don't want. I just feel as though all this could have been avoided if you didn't have those jealous feelings.”

  “Maybe.”

  “What made you jealous in the first place, anyway? Was it just the sailors, or was there something more? Did I do anything?”

  “No, it's not you at all,” Luis said, and for a moment he debated whether he should be honest with her. He never liked having intense emotional conversations. “You want us to be honest with each other, right? No matter what?”

  “Yes,” she replied, shifting her position on the couch to prepare herself for whatever he was going to say next.

  “I think I was bothered by you choosing to go out on patrol without talking about it with me first. I get why you want to go, but I can't help thinking it's an unnecessary risk. I can sense you want to go out on a few patrols, and I think I'd rather you stay here where it's safe. We know what the city is like. Hell, we know what the world is like. Let's let some other people take the risk for a change. We've paid our dues. We've earned a little rest, and the right to stay behind these walls. Why do you need to go out there?”

  “I've told you why. I don't just want to stay in New Haven. I want to feel like I'm doing something, and sitting on the council making decisions isn't enough. You have being a deputy, Hank has his services, and Saul and Freddie have the orphans. I'm not just going to sit around and tell everyone what to do when I'm not doing anything constructive or productive.”

  “There's a difference, though. Everything that we're doing is done in the settlement. We're safe here. Out there, you don't know what's going to happen, and I don't want you to get hurt.”

  “I don't want to get hurt either, but I'm not going to stay here because I'm scared, or because you're scared for me. I'm good at going out on patrol. Back when this all started I never would have thought I'd be able to survive out there on my own. But I can, and I've taught other people how to do it, too. I want to explore that side of me, and have the autonomy to patrol the city for weeks on end. I've spent too much of my life staying put and watching everyone else live life around me. Looking back on my life now I don't think I ever truly lived before the end of the world, I just observed life and fooled myself into thinking I was taking part. Now that I'm here I want to do this, and I want you to be supportive and happy that I've found this passion as well.”

  “So I am. I'd just...I'd prefer you to be safe.”

  “And I'd prefer not to feel as though I can't do the things I want to do...” she said, and then silence hung heavily between them.

  The two of them stared at each other and then stared into space, slowly realizing they may want different things from the relationship, and may not be as compatible as they once thought they were.

  Chapter Four

  Hank had been watching the proceedings with a careful eye. He had heard about the brawl, of course, and felt saddened that people he loved and respected were driven to such behavior. He could see the toll it had taken on Mack as well. He felt strongly that the sailors should have been welcomed with open arms, but like everyone else, he had seen how difficult it had been to have them in New Haven. By now, days had passed, with the sailors seemingly firmly entrenched in New Haven. It was supposed to have been a trial period, but they didn't want to leave. It surely would be only a matter of time before the rest of them came to New Haven and gave them more mouths to feed.

  None of
the sailors had come to see him, although he had made sure to let them know his door always was always open. He had kept a careful watch over them, though, trying to glean any information he could. For the most part, they seemed like regular people; sticking to those with whom they were comfortable. There was one exception however, a thin young man who, as far as Hank could tell, hadn't said a word to anyone since entering New Haven. Unlike most of the other sailors, he hadn't taken the opportunity to tidy his appearance, so his hair was long and tousled. He had thin flecks of a beard, but was so young it hadn't fully taken hold yet. Hank estimated he could have been only a year or two older than Tristan, and he seemed haunted.

  Hank noticed on a few occasions that this sailor gazed longingly at the church, and he was doing so again. Before, Hank had left the ball in the boy's court, but after what had happened, Hank thought he should take the initiative. So, he walked up to him. When the sailor saw Hank approaching he turned to move away, but Hank was too quick, and placed a firm hand on his shoulder. Now that he was so close Hank could see just how young the boy was. He was quite shocked, but he also saw the pain in the boy’s eyes.

  “I'm Hank. I've noticed you around. I've been trying to get to know the new people around here. What's your name, son?”

  “Oliver,” the boy said, stammering a little.

  “How are you finding being back on land? I imagine it must be difficult to be surrounded by so many people again, and to have all these buildings around you rather than the endless sea.”

  “It's a little strange, but it's okay,” he said.

  Oliver had a small voice, and every word was said quickly, as though he was afraid if he didn't get them out of his mouth as quickly as possible the words all would be lost in the ether. His eyes rarely met Hank's, and they darted about furtively. It was clear he wanted leave. However, now that Hank had him he was not going to let him go, for this was clearly a soul in need of help.

  “Are you religious? I only ask because I've seen you looking at the church a few times.”

  Oliver rolled his lower lip under his teeth. “Yes, I mean...I was, but I'm not sure I am anymore.”

  Hank gave him an understanding smile, and placed an arm around Oliver's shoulders. “I've heard that many times before. Let's go inside and have a chat,” the preacher said, leading Oliver into the quiet church.

  Hank could sense Oliver's fear, and told him it would be alright, but what he didn't see was that something had caught Oliver's eye, something that made him tremble. Flint was standing in the shadows, and was looking directly at Oliver. The young sailor felt the weight of the stare, and his eyes sank to the floor. He started to tremble, but when Hank asked him what was wrong, Oliver shook his head. Then he raised his gaze again, and saw that Flint still was there, standing menacingly, but Oliver didn't know what to say to break away.

  When they were inside Hank led him through to a side office where they could have some privacy, just in case anyone else wanted to use the hall to pray. Oliver gazed at the religious artwork on the walls.

  “Some of those we found in houses, others were painted by people of New Haven. They give the place a certain aura, I think. I don't suppose you're creative at all?”

  “Not really,” Oliver said.

  They moved through to a small room and Hank gestured for Oliver to take a seat. Oliver perched on the edge, hands in his lap, looking totally uncomfortable. The preacher sat opposite him, and didn't really know what else to do to set him at ease.

  “There's nothing to be scared of here, Oliver, you're in a safe space. I just wanted to speak with you. It's my job to remind God's flock of his love, and I get the feeling you may have your doubts, or may have strayed from the Lord's light. I want to tell you that it's perfectly fine, and natural, especially with everything that you've been through. We are flawed beings, and we have our doubts. God can give us many challenges in life, but he also gives us the strength to overcome them.

  “Faith isn't something that is always going to stay strong. It is going to be tested, and it is going to waver. Still, what is important is that we take time out of our lives to invest ourselves in our faith and remind ourselves why we believed in the first place. I am sure it may feel as if God has abandoned you, but I hope you can see he was with you all along. He led you to this place, which is filled with good people, and hope for the future.”

  So far there hadn't been any response from Oliver, until Hank mentioned God being with him all through his ordeal. At that point, he finally spoke. “He wasn't there. He couldn't have been, because if he had seen what had happened, he'd know that we weren't worthy of his love or his forgiveness.”

  At this Hank's mood shifted. There was clearly something bothering Oliver, and it seemed like something he and the rest of New Haven should know. He licked his lips and lowered the tone of his voice in an effort to be more soothing, trying to tease out the truth. He leaned forward to get closer to Oliver, and reached out a tentative hand to place on Oliver's arm, although the boy instantly drew away.

  “Tell me more,” Hank said, “what happened out there, Oliver? What is it that God would be so ashamed to see?”

  Hank could see the weight of the burden that had been placed on these young shoulders, and he felt pity for the young sailor. Oliver was twisted up with anguish, and Hank wondered what the other sailors had done to put Oliver's conscience into such chaos. All he could do was wait until Oliver felt ready enough to open up. The moments between them stretched out, and Hank became acutely aware of the sounds of their breathing. It had come to the point where the preacher wondered if Oliver ever was going to speak again. He was about to try prompting him again but instead Oliver spoke.

  “I can't tell you what happened. The Lord knows, and he will make sure our punishment is fitting. I know it's going to come...I'm just waiting...waiting. But I can't say. Nobody ever can know, apart from God. I give myself over to him. He can do whatever he wants with me. I am his servant and I will do whatever he asks of me.”

  “The thing most important to God is the truth,” Hank said. “Please, tell me, I promise that whatever you say here won't leave this room.”

  Oliver's head rose and his bloodshot eyes met Hank's. Hank actually felt a trembling fear creep down his spine. “No, I can't tell you what happened. Only God knows. We did something terrible, something so, so terrible, and if you found out… This place...no… nobody can find out, nobody.”

  At this Oliver drew his legs up into his chest and started to rock back and forth on the chair. He pressed his forehead against his knees, and kept repeating his anguished moans. Hank was filled with concern and fear, trying to think of what could have driven Oliver to feeling like this. He thought about the other sailors, trying to see if he could glean any clues from his memory, but there was nothing that came to mind. It was something that had to be brought to Mack, though, for if the safety of New Haven was being threatened, it needed to be dealt with. And Oliver needed help as well. Hank hated seeing such a young person be so torn with emotion that he was unable to function.

  But there was another young man who was having a tough time of his own, although in vastly different circumstances. He had had little opportunity to learn anything of his friends since being taken captive. Although, from what he could gather, there were just a handful of sailors left on the ship. Had the others planned an assault on New Haven? It didn't seem likely, given that they would have been severely outnumbered. Tristan knew Mack would have seen it coming, but then why hadn't anyone been sent to rescue him yet?

  An oil lantern hung from the ceiling, and as the ship gently swayed, this did as well, sending a stream of light across the room. Tristan was scared. He called out, but only one person answered. They had a brief conversation, but neither of them knew what was going on. They had been fed routinely with a small amount of fish that evidently had been caught near the shore, and Tristan was growing tired of having the same thing to eat.

  His body ached from being tied to the cha
ir, and his mind was frazzled. If they wanted to kill him, why didn't they just do it? He hung his head in misery and thought about his mother. Was she still alive? Did she even know he was here? Perhaps the sailors had told everyone else that he and the others had suffered a terrible accident and had drowned. Maybe that's why nobody had come looking for them, and nobody ever would.

  The thought of being at the mercy of the sailors for the rest of his life was a dreadful one, especially since he didn't know how long the rest of his life was going to be. At that point, he was in such anguish that he didn't want to it be long, and almost wished one of his captors would come in and slit his throat to put him out of his misery. There were points when he struggled against the twine that bound him, but he was getting weaker by the day, and it was a futile effort. All he had was the dim light of the lantern for he was locked in the bowels of the ship, without hope or any idea what the sailors were going to do with him.

  Chapter Five

  Grace was standing at one of the barriers, looking out at the city. She was feeling restless because of what was going on with her and Luis, and couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that had burrowed its way into the pit of her stomach. So far, their relationship had been easy. This was the first time they had encountered a problem, and it was a serious one. It seemed as though the two of them had completely different ideas regarding how things should be, and Grace was left feeling hollow as she tried to think about the future and what it meant for the both of them. For so long, while she had been focused on surviving, the future had been a luxury. What mattered was the here and now, and the just to come. Anything further was tempting fate. She hadn't put much thought into the future, but now that New Haven was established, she could afford to think about the months and years ahead. However, she wasn't sure that it involved her and Luis being involved in a relationship.