Burnt Sea: A Seabound Prequel (Seabound Chronicles Book 0)

by Jordan Rivet

  But Simon didn’t yell. He simply listened as the frenzy worked itself out around him. He nodded at some of the speakers to acknowledge their comments but didn’t say anything.

  Judith tapped her foot, growing antsy. This is ridiculous. These people should listen. Simon is clearly right, and getting petulant about it won’t change that.

  But still Simon remained silent, his face giving nothing away.

  Answer them! Tell them this is how it’s going to be. Why isn’t he saying anything?

  Slowly the shouts began to fade. Simon stood still, waiting at the center of the stage. He didn’t react to the provocations, and a few people began to look sheepish. The crowd quieted, and eventually even the angriest voices ceased completely.

  Judith’s attention stayed rooted to Simon. The last echoes disappeared, but still he waited.

  Finally, after a full minute of silence, Simon spoke again.

  “You’re right,” he said.

  The people leaned forward so they could hear him better.

  “We’re all scared. We’re all angry. Things have spun out of our control so quickly. I don’t have any right to make decisions for you. We should all have an equal say in how things are done here. For the moment I suggest we regroup and sort out our communication problem without wasting fuel. I think it would be unwise to sail back to Hawaii until we know they can help us, because if they can’t, we’ll be out of luck. Does anyone have other suggestions they’d like to offer? Would you kindly form a line in each aisle and come to the stage so everyone can hear you?”

  Simon’s quiet voice and sane questions worked wonders on the crowd. People began to stand and line up in the aisles. Simon joined Judith by the curtain. Sweat ran from beneath his curly hair despite the cold. He must not be as calm as he seemed. He nodded at Judith, then kept his attention on the people lining up to take the stage. They moved in an orderly fashion, waiting for their turns with only the occasional tapping foot or impatient sigh.

  One by one the survivors offered opinions and expressed their frustrations. Most, it turned out, agreed that Simon was right and they needed more information before choosing a new course. A sizable minority wanted to return to California, but others in the crowd swiftly disputed this view. They all saw what had happened to California. Returning was not a viable option, at least for now.

  Judith thought they should vote to confirm their decision. Simon’s plan had to have majority support by now. She suggested as much to him.

  “Not yet,” he said. “Sometimes voting can be divisive. Give them some more time.”

  Judith frowned, but she waited to see what he meant.

  The conversation turned subtly toward more productive suggestions, mostly based around the assumption that they would be staying on the ship for a few days until things cleared up in Hawaii.

  One man volunteered to organize a crew to repair the storm damages. Another offered to lead aerobics classes so people could work off their cabin fever. Bernadette offered to teach drawing for as long as they had paper. Simon encouraged more suggestions like these.

  “I can fish,” announced the older man who had the floor. “Let’s gather some food so our stores will last a little longer.”

  “Hear, hear!” someone called.

  “What about seaweed? Can we eat that?”

  “My mother cooked it for me all the time in Japan. I can help.”

  More people filed into the aisles to offer help. As the suggestions became more practical, Simon showered praise on the speakers. He offered a few contributions himself, and everyone listened closely to him. He always asked for at least one or two other people’s affirmation whenever he approved of an idea. It became a call-and-response conversation.

  “My sister and I can set up activities for the kids.”

  “Good idea. I bet some of the teenagers would like to help you.”

  “I can arrange a clothing exchange so the runners don’t have to keep wearing the same thing.”

  “I’d really appreciate that. What does everyone else think?”

  The more Simon sought out people who agreed with him, the more the crowd turned in his favor. A consensus was emerging. Simon had somehow won everyone over to his side by relinquishing the stage to hear them.

  Eventually, Rosa Cordova proposed that they come up with a watch schedule so people could work in shifts and make sure everything was running smoothly on the ship. Simon praised her for her contribution, and she actually blushed. Judith was impressed. He had gotten everyone to agree with his decision to wait a few days before sailing anywhere, but he somehow made them feel like they were part of the decision.

  “Shall we select a council to guide us over the next few days?” Simon asked after a while. “It might not be practical to gather in here every time we need to make a decision. Perhaps we can choose representatives from each of the major groups: crew, passengers, and runners.”

  There were murmurs of assent.

  Again Simon waited for a few people to stand up and voice their agreement before he asked, “Who would like to volunteer?”

  Rosa was the first to step forward, followed by a middle-aged man Judith didn’t know. Some of the other passengers nominated Frank, and he agreed after a moment’s hesitation. The crew quickly selected Ana Ivanovna, Reggie, and one of the porters as their representatives. Simon asked who would volunteer for the runners.

  “You, of course!” someone shouted from the back of the theater. Simon accepted modestly and asked for two additional volunteers.

  “All right then,” he said when the selections had been made. “Is it okay if we meet in the mornings over breakfast so we’re all fresh?”

  Everyone seemed to think that was a great idea.

  They got down to the nitty-gritty details of assigning roles. Judith ducked into the cramped backstage area of the theater and found some large posters advertising an old dance show. She brought them out to the stage and used the backs to create a neat record of all the duties. By the time they were finished, every healthy adult on the ship had been assigned either a role on the council or a concrete task for the next twenty-four hours.

  Judith took the job of cataloguing nonperishable assets—anything that could prove useful in the days to come. When Simon suggested her for the task, she felt a thrill of pride. Simon’s recommendation meant a lot to her.

  When the meeting finished, people filed out of the theater with springs in their steps. A bit of purpose and direction was exactly what they needed in the face of that day’s setback.

  As Judith headed up the aisle toward the doors, she noticed Simon sitting down on the edge of the stage. He was a slight man and didn’t seem to take up much space against the backdrop of the huge stage. Yet somehow he made people want to listen to him and follow him. She hoped she would be like him one day. And she would show him she was worthy of his trust.

  Simon

  Simon thought that had gone surprisingly well. As the assembly dispersed to their new duties, they seemed calmer than they had in days. Their situation was worse than it had been since the eruption, but they knew what to do, at least for now.

  He was relieved that no one had asked more about the captain. He’d have a hard time explaining what had happened to the man. In retrospect maybe it was good that the captain hadn’t been very visible over the past few days. People weren’t too used to seeing him around and looking to him for leadership.

  A handful of people stopped to shake Simon’s hand before heading out of the theater. He wished Nina could see him now. She would be so proud. He had begun to feel responsible for the people on board the Catalina. He wanted to protect them, to keep them safe and calm. If he could do that, maybe he could make up in some small way for his failings before all this began.

  He remembered how he had jumped to Morty’s every demand when he was in the midst of his tenure bid. All that seemed so insignificant now. The simplicity of their battle for survival eliminated any space for his worries and insecurit
ies. They were going to live. He would make sure of it.

  Chapter 11—The Message

  Judith

  Three days passed, and the Catalina drifted. The survivors were enthusiastic about their new tasks at first. The additional duties helped keep everyone’s mind off their families on the mainland and the thwarted promise of Hawaii. They ate their first seaweed meal, and even though the taste made Judith gag, it was satisfying that this meal didn’t deplete their stores. She began keeping a tally of their days aboard the ship alongside her inventory notes. They had now been at sea for a full week.

  Some people had taken to staring at the waves for hours on end, searching for imaginary landmarks that appeared and disappeared with each swell, but Judith would never allow herself to become one of them. She took up running again. She hadn’t gone more than two days without a run since she was thirteen, and it made her antsy. She jogged in wide circles around the main deck, wishing for the straight expanse of a California boulevard. It was cold all the time now, but this was better than running inside the claustrophobic little gym, and the treadmills had been unplugged to conserve energy anyway. On the deck she had to dodge people and run up and down slippery steps. Watching out for obstacles made it easier to keep her mind from straying to regrets, the missed opportunities with her family, the life she had lost on land, her potential future.

  Sometimes Esther ran beside her for a few paces, full of questions. She always popped up in unexpected places. She had taken to sea life better than most. She would chatter to Judith for a few minutes and then veer off to try to climb the exhaust vents or trail after Reggie and the crew as they went about their work.

  When Judith wasn’t running or working on the resources inventory, she hung out in the bridge with Ren and Nora. Vinny descended from the broadcast tower every so often to report on the communications (or lack thereof). Simon had sent a woman named Kim Wu to assist him so he wouldn’t have to pull such long shifts. She had been in San Diego for an IT conference, but she fit into the bridge team well. The Internet worked in fits and starts, but precious little information came out of Hawaii. The Pacific Ocean was beginning to feel like the Bermuda Triangle.

  “Where’s the fucking BBC when you need them?” Nora pushed back from the computer that she had adopted next to Ren’s console. She started twisting her earrings one by one.

  “What’s wrong?” Judith asked. She stood at the front window, looking at the persistent gray clouds that hung above the sea. She missed sunshine so much.

  “Some nut job says a tsunami took out half the Eastern Seaboard,” Nora said. She scowled at the computer screen. “He’s the only one who’s transmitting a reliable signal at the moment, but his site is full of conspiracy crap and apocalypse porn. It’s hard to sift through it for the real news.”

  “Where is he?” Judith asked.

  “Could be on this ship for all I know. He claims to have ‘sources,’ but I don’t see how he could have any information when I can’t access a single major news outlet or social network.”

  “He says there was a tsunami?”

  “Let’s see . . . triggered by an undersea earthquake . . . he says every coastal city from Boston to Atlantic City got wiped right into the sea by a monster wave.”

  Judith imagined a map of the US where each section was being systematically blurred out. It felt cartoonish, impossible. The report had to be wrong. They needed a more reliable source.

  “Does he know anything about the navy?” she asked. “I’m sure some of them got out of Pearl Harbor before the storm. They would know the truth.” Judith had begun to think of the navy as a shining beacon of order and purpose. If they could just meet up with a navy ship, they would be okay.

  “Sorry, Jude. This isn’t the kind of stuff you want to read about the navy,” Nora said. “I’m telling you: he’s full of shit.”

  Judith walked around behind Nora’s computer console. “What’s he say about them?”

  “Nothing coherent.”

  A white page filled Nora’s web browser. It looked like a homemade site from the early 2000s, with a simple index function and no sense of design at all. It contained no images, only a lot of headlines in flashing, multicolored text. Judith read the first few.

  NEW YORK DROWNED!

  GOVERNMENT COVER-UP OF YELLOWSTONE RED FLAGS CONFIRMED

  RIOTS IN LONDON OVER LIMITED FOOD SUPPLY

  ASH PRECEDES SEVEN YEARS OF WINTER

  Nora scrolled down. “See, it’s all this doom and gloom stuff, but there seem to be nuggets of truth every once in a while. He does have a contact page, and sometimes he’ll post reports from people who might actually know something.”

  “Where’s the stuff about the navy?”

  “Hold your horses. Here we go: BATTLESHIPS TURN TO PIRACY.”

  Judith bent closer to read the article.

  Sources confirm a coordinated effort by the US Navy to pillage resources from any ships they meet on the high seas. Warships have been spotted surrounding distressed vessels and draining them of fuel and food, like a swarm of locusts. Too much like a Robert Louis Stevenson novel, you think? Think again. The navy is coming, and they want your fuel. Our sources report that the battleships lure their victims with promises of aid. Beware, readers of the seas: the navy is not your friend.

  Ren had leaned over from her computer to read alongside Judith. “He seems pretty sure.”

  Nora snorted. “He’s a geek with a decent connection on a power trip.”

  “But if he gets reports through a contact page . . .”

  “He embellishes,” Nora said. “There’s probably one ship out of thousands that went rogue. He’s decided that’s not interesting enough, so now we have the entire US Navy turning to coordinated piracy. And the entire East Coast being wiped out by one wave! How likely do you think all that is?”

  Judith banished the image of the warship blowing a path through the civilian ships in San Diego harbor. She hadn’t told Nora about that.

  “Isn’t it strange that they haven’t issued some sort of statement themselves?” Ren said. “We haven’t heard anything from a government source since before the disaster.”

  “Do you think the government has collapsed?” Judith asked quietly.

  “It sure feels like it,” Nora said.

  “That’s just impossible.” Ren fiddled with the buttons on her keyboard. “You never think something like this will happen in your lifetime. I mean, we watch disaster movies and joke about the zombie apocalypse all the time. Now that this—whatever this is—is actually happening . . .”

  “We’re out of contact, that’s all,” Nora said. “Once we get back to land, things will be better. But you’re right. I had no idea how bad it would feel to be off the grid, and I practically live inside the grid.”

  “It sounds like the US will never be the same, though,” Judith said. “Even if that East Coast tsunami didn’t happen.”

  She still sometimes believed that they’d sail into a harbor and find it had all been a mistake. The nightmare would be over. San Diego would still be intact. All of their families would be fine. She could go back to her perfectly coordinated life.

  They stared out at the restless, white-capped sea. The clouds were heavy and sullen. Judith hoped there wouldn’t be another storm. It had been three days since the last one, and she was still waking up in a cold sweat picturing people tumbling out of the broken dining hall windows.

  “What do you think you’d be doing if you weren’t here?” Nora asked suddenly, clearly wanting to change the subject. She climbed out of her chair and sat on top of the desk behind it, putting her large maroon combat boots on the seat.

  “Studying for finals,” Judith said. It was hard to reconcile the image of her old self sitting in the library in front of a stack of neatly color-coded notes with her current reality.

  “Lame.”

  “I’d still be on this ship,” Ren said. “How’s that for strange?”

  “That is trippy,�
�� Nora said. “I would be here too, unless I decided to jump ship in Puerto Vallarta. I thought about it, actually. I’ve always wanted to live in another country.”

  “I’ve had my share of wanderlust too,” Ren said. “I work on a cruise ship after all. Cruises aren’t the most badass places to be a sailor, but I’ve always loved the idea of being at sea every day, taking shore leave in exotic cities.” She sighed. “Now I just want my feet on dry land.”

  Nora put a hand gently on her shoulder. Ren gripped it for a moment.

  “What about you, Judith?” Nora said. “Were you planning a graduation trip or anything?”

  “Not really. I was going to start working right away,” Judith said. “I guess I’d take business trips eventually. London. Hong Kong. Tokyo. I didn’t study abroad in college, because I wanted to focus on internships.”

  “You were one of those overachievers, eh?” Ren asked.

  Judith nodded. “I had it all planned out: work for two or three years and then get an MBA. I’ve had my eye on a CEO’s corner office for as long as I can remember.”

  “It could still happen,” Nora said. “I’d hire you.”

  “I might never even get my degree now. All that work, and I don’t even have a BA to show for it.”

  “At least you’re alive,” Ren said.

  “I guess so,” Judith said.

  “I don’t know how you two decided what you wanted to do so early on,” Nora said. “I’m good with computers, but I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up, and I’m twenty-eight!”

  Judith frowned. A chasm seemed to yawn before her. She had always been so focused. Her teachers loved to talk about her potential, yet she had absolutely no idea who she was apart from her ambitions. Suddenly all that mattered was surviving—and the relationships she had never given enough time before. She should have taken more weekend trips to see her parents. She should have spent more afternoons hanging out with Sonya. She should have gone on more dates! All that texting and flirting had seemed like such a waste of effort. Now she wasn’t sure why she had spent so much time alone with her goals.