Apollo Project

by Brittany E Brinegar

  Worried about Dixie’s reaction, he kicked in her direction and she pointed her thumb upward. Both surfaced and she held a rubbery item in her palm. “Wasn’t Mandy wearing a Fitbit?” She fisted a purple watchband. “I’ll go deeper.”

  “Hold on, wait a second.” The lifeboat drifted toward them. “I don’t like how those clouds look and the wind is…” Not able to finish, Tom braced himself for a thundering wave. The noise and the violence of the water knocked into him. The water fluctuated from chilly to warm to hot. Within seconds, the water boiled. He oriented himself as Dixie made it to the boat. Taking long strides with his arms, he wondered how much burning, boiling water a body could take. Struggling, he heaved into the boat and collapsed.

  “We have to get out of this ocean,” Davidson screamed.

  “The water was, like, scalding hot.” Dixie’s voice came out calm and Tom realized he did not have burns on his body. She continued. “I’m not even red.”

  “Yeah, just this milky white on our skin.” Tom wiped the layer from his legs and put it to his nose. “That metallic smell.” The calm ocean returned and Tom eyeballed the glass surface.

  Davidson snatched a paddle. “Let’s hurry it along before the next incident.” He poked at Hibbert, curled in the fetal position at the bottom of the boat. “Suck it up and help us, Hibb. You’re almost forty, not some feeble child.”

  Employing a different approach, Barb knelt and patted Hibbert’s face. “Jeremy, take a deep breath. This is your area of expertise. What is this weather anomaly and what should we do?”

  Hibbert moaned. “I can’t.”

  Barb lowered her voice. “Please Jeremy, you’re the only one with a clue here. We all need you.”

  Hibbert didn’t respond. Andy continued to bellow for Mandy. Gus didn’t move, even when Dixie jolted him. Tom plucked binoculars from his bag, raised them to his eyes and adjusted the dial. Perplexed, he thumped the attached compass and attempted to pinpoint north. He realized the compass on the binoculars didn’t work. Every direction read north. The only bearing was the burning remnants of the fishing boat. “We have to go opposite of the boat. If it burns long enough, we know we’re moving the right way.”

  “We can’t leave my wife.” Andy flopped from side-to-side.

  “We have to.” Tom clutched his shoulder. “We found a bloody stump and her watch. I hate to be blunt, but she didn’t survive this and we all have to go.”

  “I have to find her.” Andy plunged from the boat with a splash.

  Davidson dipped his paddle into the water, preparing to row. “It’s his funeral; let’s shove off.”

  “William.” Barb unwound a strand a rope. “You wouldn’t leave your wife.”

  Despite Davidson’s protest, the group attached a long rope to Dixie and she dove headfirst into the water. Tom kept a close watch on her and pulled on the rope when lightning struck and the outflow crashed. Barb persuaded Andy to return to the raft as another round of waves and hot water splashed. When the water calmed, Andy belly-flopped on the floor with Hibbert and balled.

  Chapter 4 – When the Sky Turned Green (Again)

  Reagan

  The weather changed in an instant. The sky opened and lightning pierced through the quiet air. As fast as the freak storm arrived, it evaporated. An eerie calm settled in the cave as worried eyes scanned the darkness.

  “Is it over?” Annabeth asked with shivers.

  Reagan reached into the rear pocket of her worn jeans for the flashlight. She pounded on the high-powered torch. It flickered twice before illuminating. “I’ll head to the edge of the cave and take a look.”

  When the storm hit, Reagan suggested the group find cover. They sprinted through the ridge and ducked into a cave as the storm brewed.

  “Be careful,” Kelly called after her.

  Reagan grimaced as she exited the mouth of the cave. An intense pain shot through her neck. She rubbed the ache as she leveled the flashlight into the dark wilderness.

  “See anything?” Annabeth asked a few feet behind. Both the dark and the camo gear made her sister difficult to spot.

  “No, it’s kind of foggy.” Reagan squinted. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

  Reagan marched through the thicket of trees in the direction of the camp. A green haze filled the night sky. Not a single star was visible. Flashes of light and intense gray clouds rolled southward. A gust of wind and dust surged into her face. Blowback from the fleeting storm perhaps? She shielded her eyes and fled to the cave.

  “You owe me fifty bucks old man,” Kelly said. “Your exact words were it was going to rain in the next hour. Hate to break it to you Tucker but this storm didn’t include rain.”

  Granddad massaged his neck. “I don’t think that’s accurate, Ms. Pak-man. I predicted a storm and here we are hunkered down in a cave hiding from the weather.”

  “Which did not include rain,” Kelly corrected.

  “How about we table the argument for the time being,” Reagan said. Her flashlight flickered off and she cast it aside. “It looks like the worst of the storm has passed. But the wind’s picked up and the fog makes it difficult to see.”

  “What was it?” Annabeth asked. “Maybe someone should check the weather report.”

  Granddad stumbled before catching himself. “I think something is wrong with my neck.”

  “Mine too,” Travis Wayne said. He raked a hand through his black buzz-cut hair.

  Reagan claimed the discarded flashlight and inspected Granddad’s neck. Before speaking she tiptoed to examine Travis Wayne. She yanked his army green hood and confirmed her suspicions. “They both have what looks like burn marks.”

  “What? Were they hit by lightning or something?” Annabeth asked as she gripped her neck.

  “Is anyone else feeling pain?” Reagan asked. The girls shook their heads. “I better check to be safe.” She crouched to inspect Kelly’s neck and tiptoed to Annabeth’s. “I don’t see anything.”

  “What about you, Reagan?” Granddad asked.

  “My neck feels fine,” she lied. “Looks like you boys got the worst of it.”

  Annabeth plopped on the ground. “What causes a storm like this?”

  “Lightning is caused by a discharge of electrons moving quickly between places. They move at such a speed the electrons superheat the air around them causing an electric glow.” Kelly nudged Travis Wayne to his knees to examine his neck. “But I don’t have a clue what caused this.”

  “Should we return to camp?” Annabeth asked. “We left the first aid kit behind. Along with just about everything else.”

  “I don’t know. Maybe we should hold off until morning.” Granddad’s orotund voice echoed in the claustrophobic cave. “It can get dangerous traipsing around these mountains after dark.”

  “It can’t be much worse than sleeping inside a foreign cave.” No matter what Granddad said, Kelly took the opposite stance. Despite their constant bickering, they were good friends. “Our gear is at camp. What if the storm gets worse? We don’t have any way to call for help.”

  “One flashlight on the fritz isn’t gonna do much good Miss. Pak-man.”

  Travis Wayne jerked off his boot and dumped several pebbles. “I’ll head back to camp, grab a few things.”

  Reagan placed a hand on his shoulder. “We should stick together. At least until morning.”

  Kelly shoved her hands in her jacket pockets. “Are you for leaving or staying at the creepy cave?”

  Before Reagan could answer a rumble belched from deeper in the cave. The ground quivered.

  “Do you remember in Star Wars when Han Solo thought they were flying inside a meteor but they actually landed the Millennium Falcon in some giant space beast?” Kelly asked.

  “That happened in The Empire Strikes Back,” Granddad corrected. “What about it?”

  “I bet you it would have felt something like this,” Kelly said.

  The rumble amplified and the ground continued to shake. Travis Wayne vaulted
to his feet. “Woo boy that’s hot.”

  Reagan knelt to the ground and held her palm inches from the rock. It sizzled. “Let’s find our camp. Something fishy is going on.” Reagan clapped the flashlight against her thigh and vowed to buy a new one soon. “Everyone stick close.”

  The group shuffled to the front of the cave and burst into the crisp night air, darker than recesses of the cave. The mossy haze intensified.

  Travis Wayne illuminated his fancy watch. “North is there,” he said with a point. “Making our camp there.”

  “Are you sure?” Reagan asked. “I thought we came from the other direction.”

  Travis Wayne spun and once again checked the compass on his watch. “What’s your take, Mr. Tucker?”

  Granddad stroked his beard. “Hard to say without using the stars as a guide.” He dug in his pocket for the compass he carried. He mimicked Travis Wayne’s earlier circle.

  “I suppose it’s possible lightning created some kind of magnetic charge leading to inaccurate compass readings.” Kelly adopted a thinking pose.

  “Of this magnitude?” Granddad held his compass under the flashlight. The dial went berserk.

  Reagan adjusted the brim of her Stetson. “What’s your best guess, Travis Wayne?”

  He reached in the pocket of his brown denim pants and fished out a penlight. He knelt to examine the ground. “I see our tracks.” He pointed to a partial squiggle in the dirt. “Reagan’s print from earlier.” In a few moments, his long stride landed him on the other side of the cave. “Multiple prints. These are jagged from running. Camp’s this way.”

  Reagan peered into the other three’s faces. Her stomach fell. “Where’s Annabeth?”

  Granddad stared into the dark forest. “Annabeth?” he called in his megaphone voice.

  “I’m right here,” she answered. “While you people argued about the camp, I was trying to call for help.”

  “Call for help?” Reagan asked. “What about your no technology rule?”

  “It’s dumb to be miles from nowhere with no way of communicating.” Annabeth edged from the shadows. “But I’m disciplined enough not to be glued to my phone for the entire trip, unlike Granddad.”

  “Did you find a weather report?” Granddad asked, ignoring the jab.

  Annabeth twisted a strand of red hair. “Not exactly. Is it possible the lightning fried my phone?”

  “Let me see.” Travis Wayne fiddled with the iPhone.

  Kelly placed a hand to her forehead. “I suppose if the phone was struck by lightning.”

  “But I don’t have a burn mark like Travis Wayne and Granddad,” Annabeth said.

  “It’s not fried,” Travis Wayne drawled as he returned the phone. “Not sure what’s wrong.”

  “Is anyone else a little freaked out?” Annabeth asked.

  Reagan cleared her throat. “Travis Wayne found the trail. Let’s head to camp before jumping to conclusions. I'm sure one of the other phones will work.” A shiver rolled along her spine making her wish she remembered her jacket.

  Chapter 5 – Lifeboat

  Tom

  The powerful rowing surged them miles from the burning boat and the next outflow slammed with less intensity. The sky grew darker, the gray giving way to khaki green and after a while to a mossy color of green. The night sky contained not a single star. Everyone sipped from one of the two canteens and Tom arranged a rotation for rowing through the night. The burning boat faded from sight and Tom relied on his instincts to navigate without a beacon.

  Barb relaxed her head on his shoulder and he couldn’t see any of the other faces – only vague outlines of bodies. “You feeling okay, Barb?”

  “The burns on our neck are odd, Tom. Maybe it is in my head, but I feel a pain traveling from my neck. My back hurts now. Hibbert and Andy have the burns and they told me their backs hurt.”

  “Between the whimpering?” he muttered.

  A soft punch came from Barb. “They’re not doing well. I convinced Jeremy to examine our situation. He thinks this could be similar to stories from the Bermuda Triangle.”

  “Nonsense.” Tom sighed and reached into the water, as a shiver traversed his arm, leaving goosebumps. “Although, maybe I’d believe in Bigfoot riding a flying saucer just about now.”

  The ominous clouds hovered near the boat for the next few hours as the group paddled. Silence gave way to conversations as the clouds did not produce another outflow with violent waves. Tom wiped the sweat from his forehead as Davidson passed his paddle to Dixie, who did most of the rowing on the side opposite Tom. Barb tugged at Tom’s arm. “Give me a turn, hon. Your arms have to be killing you.”

  “I’m alright. This is nothing – I could go for hours.” The burning muscles hurt, but the stubborn Irishman inside of him would never admit it.

  A touch of light from the horizon offered a better view of Barb as she rifled through the oversized cloth tote she somehow had the presence of mind to bring onto the raft. She offered him a sip of bottled water. She passed it around to the other passengers and let each of them have a morsel of Perky Jerky, the spicy kind. Tom chewed, his curiosity growing as supplies spilled from the enormous bag. Barb doled a handful of trail mix before she loaded sunscreen, bug spray, mints, and her Kindle into the bag.

  Rocking the boat, Dixie leaned to her mother. “Holy cow, Mom, what else do you have in your bag? Maybe a boat motor? We could use one about now.”

  Gus snort-laughed and slapped the fishing hat across his knee. After the laugh, he stared straight ahead, once again impersonating a Stepford wife.

  Tom kept his voice low. “Barb, I’m not sure the kid is okay.”

  As Barb checked on Gus, Davidson stirred from his side and made a gyration with his hand. “Are you sure we’re bearing north, Cassidy? This direction seems wrong. It can’t be the right way because we should’ve hit shore by now or at the very least, spotted another boat.”

  “Check the sliver of light,” Tom said. “The sun is rising in the east. We’re heading the right way. I adjusted our path about ten minutes ago when I saw the sun peek awake.”

  “Hmmph,” Davidson grunted as he tapped a finger on his fancy, waterproof smartphone case. “Still can’t get a signal or power. How about you?”

  “Phone’s long gone. Lost it when I went in for Hibbert.”

  Davidson kicked Hibbert, who remained on the floor of the raft. “On your feet you sorry coward. Is the iPhone you jailbroke and upgraded with all your advanced applications working?”

  With the latest rebuke, probably the fifth one, Hibbert dragged himself until he managed to sit upright. Bobbing and weaving, he licked his dry, chapped lips, cleared his throat, and spoke. “I lost everything. It was all in the fishing vest you had me wear. Everything was on the phone. My pictures, my contacts, my appointments and calendar, my passwords. Only my entire life.”

  “Geez, Doc, I don’t know much about all that. Don’t those AT&T guys who bug you when you come into the store, back it up to what they call the cloud?” Tom clung to his older technology, but he recognized new trends. He preferred the appearance of the old grump who didn’t like technology.

  “I was skeptical about my private information, therefore I shied away from the cloud. I meant to back up my data on my laptop. This is a disaster.”

  “Not hardly. A disaster would be us dying in the middle of the ocean,” Dixie said. “With your scientific mind, calculate how to escape this mess and quit whining about your phone. Get it together.”

  Barb held her hand to Dixie. “Easy.” Barb tilted her head and captured Hibbert with her eyes. Few men could escape her tractor beam of icy blue heaven. “Jeremy, listen to me. We all have sympathy for you but you must concentrate and pitch in.”

  “It’s time, Doc.” Tom decided to push the conversation on down the road because Barb might talk his ear off for an hour. “Get it together and study the sky. As the sun rises, give us an assessment of where we are, what happened, and make a recommended course of action.�
�� As Hibbert flinched, Tom continued. “Step up to the plate.”

  “Well, okay,” Hibbert said. “The Coast Guard is likely looking for us, but if they found our boat exploded, they might not realize we made it to the life raft.” He rubbed his hands on the windbreaker-style pants, long dried from his unexpected dip. “The weather, the cloud, is still to our south. I suspect we traveled ten miles or so. That being said, the cloud is either massive or moving along with us.”

  “Any chance it is a weapon?” Barb asked. “Is this possibly military testing and we stumbled into it?”

  Tom rested his tongue inside his cheek and mulled the question. He peered at the green mess, always near the boat and always the same distance. Earlier, for about a half-hour, he paddled the opposite direction, but the cloud remained. “Doc, what is this? The whole sky is green – it isn’t the color of the clouds.”

  “I’d go out a limb and state this isn’t a military experiment gone haywire.” Davidson scowled. “It’ no more military than my Genevieve is. It’s the craziest weather I’ve ever seen, but we all know of legends and disasters at sea. My guess, my best estimate, is on some sort of weather irregularity.” He stopped and held his hand outward. “What the hell?”

  Genevieve gasped. “Is this snow?”

  “In August? On the gulf coast? It can’t happen.” Hibbert, recalling his occupation and schooling, caught some of the substance in his hand.

  “I’m not cold,” Dixie said. “But this feels like snow. Lots of snow.” More and more fell and an icy crust formed on the sides of the boat.

  Feeling for his waterproof bag, Tom located the cheap 35mm camera, which used old-fashioned film. He snapped a few shots of the ‘snow’. “Well I was raised in upstate New York and I’ve seen plenty of snow. This is snow. It isn’t melting, but I’m not cold either.”

  The group didn’t budge, stunned into silence. Tom scraped off some of the snow and others threw it from inside. Once in the water, the snow floated like soapy bubbles or ice in the artic. The cloud of doom remained to the south and the lightning resumed within. The outflow started and the boat rocked.