A Depraved Blessing

by D. C. Clemens

  My mother asked, “What about Bervin and Delphnia?”

  I turned around to hear Siena unhesitatingly reply, “I’ll go get them!”

  I couldn’t feel that much, not my heart palpitating, not my body aching, not the sweat that oozed uncontrollably from my skin, but what I did feel was the unyielding knot in my stomach that only grew tighter when she made the resolution, and I felt the sting gore right through me. Equal to an impulse, I said to her, “There’s no time to go back for them! We might not even reach the well deck in time ourselves!”

  Siena’s face formed into one of apprehension and shock. I knew what her eyes were troubled to see; to see someone not willing to attempt to risk her life for that of others. There would be no argument and no chance for her to go against my desire. I could not risk the chance of not ever seeing her again. Still, I could not face her shaken stare and I turned my face elsewhere. Before she could render a word of protest, I grabbed her arm, maybe with more force than was necessary, and forced her to move with me. We moved through the halls, through the indecisive lights and the red beams, through the piercing sirens and the deafening explosions that continued to strike from every direction. No matter how fast our legs strode, it always seemed we labored through the gelatinous air and were in opposition against a reality that fluttered at twice its usual speed. This was not to mention the myriad of sailors and soldiers alike who were roving up and down the cramped halls, likely knowing, as we did, that they had little hope of ever reaching their destination before the Arians encountered its irrational sibling. With each fateful encounter we suffered against the wrath of a missile, our balances were temporarily lost, compelling us to slam a wall at times and further slowing our pace.

  Then, just as an ember of salvation ignited when the confines of the well deck came within my aspiring sights, it burned out. I felt the most viciously adamant tremor shove the entire ship to my right, vehemently hurling everyone to the hallway floor. The destroyer had finally arrived and was certainly living up to its designation. Fortunately, my presence of mind was still with me and I was able to shield Dayce from experiencing the full brunt of the ground by adjusting my fall enough to land on my right shoulder. I looked at him to see his small eyes open meagerly, only to drop again. I thought I heard him groan, but the sounds of our carrier’s demolition, expressed through the concentrated grating of metal somewhere behind me, obliterated all other noise in my sagacity.

  At the same time, while I felt the entire Arians careen farther to the west in an unrelenting motion, I also noticed the stern itself was commencing to drift in the opposite direction of the whole. Standing and turning to behold the well deck, I saw that it was becoming filled with the element of the ocean as it started to slant from the constant heaving. The pining hope I had to reach its boats of deliverance were being buried below sea level right before my eyes. Gradually, as if my senses had finally returned from a black hole, the sounds of the roaring water washed into my ear drums. We were trapped between the submerging well deck in its last belches of life and the destroyer’s callous incursion, still heard by its sharpening call, as the metal innards continued to pulverize themselves. I didn’t have time to deliberate a plan of escape, for as the cringing vibrations reached our bodies, so did the stern continue to list on its side and so deeper did it sink. Standing upright was becoming a strenuous task, if not completely impossible to accomplish. We all had to lean against the wall on our right and place our feet on the opposite wall for some stability. I shuddered with every harsh groan the walls echoed with and I was beginning to truly believe we would drown in the water-packed steel coffin.

  To release me from musings of my demise, the stern gave a sharp, staggering lurch to the east in an attempt to return to its original position. The unbearable scraping noises took a different and slightly more bearable pitch with the adjustment. The seeping in of the rushing water now had an unwavering rhythm, one that made me afraid of looking at the well deck. Despite the stern being released from the unwanted forces that had been pushing it, stabilizing the ground somewhat, it was too late for it to go back to its initial bearing. The stern was simply struggling not to wholly yield to the sea for as long as it could. Amid all that was befalling, I had the courage to look at the well deck with my better foothold. The water was surging into our domain after it surpassed the well deck in its relentless vigor. The ocean was determined in claiming our vessel as her own and there was nothing the Arians could do but surrender to her.

  “Go back!” I boisterously yelled to the girls, though, considering I said it as loud as I could, it was heard by everyone in the vicinity.

  The newfound and, most likely, only too brief, reasonable evenness of the floors permitted us to move briskly through the hall, the roaring surge behind us providing more than enough motivation to have us move at our quickest pace. Every so often I would become charmed by streams of light ahead of us. It was not unwelcomed, as it was now the chief birthplace of illumination, but as we were within the labyrinths of a ship, I could also say it was unanticipated. The farther we traveled, the more radiant the light became and the more it resembled natural sunlight. It did not take long before we were forced to come to a halt behind a crowd and where I discovered the inexplicable entryway of the enigmatic daylight. I gazed with copious scrutiny and still it did not seem possible.

  Laid out in front of us was the flank of the destroyer. It had completely cut through our Arians, creating two halves of it, and it was now moving inside the chasm it had carved. Not including all the heads in front of me, I calculated we must have been separated by no more than three yards from the destroyer’s hull. Jumping into the water at that moment was senseless, for the propeller blades would not be sympathetic to our plight. So here we all waited for the betrayer to pass by in its entirety to make our escape, the last that was left in our hands. The seconds passed on and I felt every single one of them bury deep into my being and take away another year of my life. Dayce’s eyes were no longer closed. They stared blankly at the destroyer as it floated past our sinking scrap of steel. I analyzed every facet of the warship as it leisurely slipped in front of us, as though it cherished nothing more than for us to behold its triumph. It was crumpled in places and tarnished in others. Nowhere was there a space left untouched by the ruthless impact it bestowed to us, though I imagined its bow was left unrecognizable. The battle scared machine was supposed be one of our own, yet, there it was, the reason of our ruin. By the time my eyes finally saw the end of the procession, marked by the flood of more light, I felt as thin and frail as if I had lived five years too long. The roar of its engines steadily became fainter and I began to hear both the swirl of the water echo again through our open encasement and the ripples of the ocean as the destroyer was dragging it behind.

  When the ship left my line of sight, I began to hear splashing. The crowd in front of us had wasted no time in making their exodus. I noticed those in the decks above us were also doing the same. It was not long before it was our turn to join the departure of the Arians. Dayce was awake, but he was under no condition to swim on his own. Providentially, I was not insecure in my own swimming capacities, it being the only form of exercise I did, so carrying him did not at all daunt me. My mother was the same as I, or I was the same as her, for she was the one who first motivated the activity. It was not a hassle for us to receive the sea, since it was already greeting our ankles. Eloram jumped in after me and I felt that she would have followed me even if I were to swim to the poles. As for Siena, she was the best swimmer I had ever known. My body welcomed the water for its warm and soothing influence on my strained and weary muscles. Under vastly different circumstances, I would have felt reinvigorated as soon as my form felt the therapeutic magic of the ocean, but even the most powerful enchantments would not have been able to recapture the years that had so suddenly left me. All we did, and all we could do, was swim.

  It was unwise to linger near the plummeting stern more than was necessary, for jumpers con
tinued to fall and fill the crevice between the halves of what was once the Arians, which were no more than forty yards apart from each other. People in the bow end of the ship were also leaping into the water, their half, likewise, becoming gulped down by the watery leviathan. When I felt I was far enough away from the most crowded section of the channel, I stopped and looked at the scene behind me. Amid the two descending halves were hundreds of crewmen, soldiers, sailors, and refugees treading water with more waiting to fall, and still more already waiting for rescuers of some type to show themselves. The destroyer was still moving away, but it was tilting on its portside as it did so. It too did not have long before it yielded to its stark lesions.

  Only seconds went by before I saw our former stern submerge entirely beneath the sea’s surface. Many kinds of debris reshowed themselves, not desiring to know the secrets of the bottom of the ocean. They were eagerly held on to by those that were near. One sailor, who must have seen I was holding Dayce, came to us and generously gave his life vest to him, which I could not be too indebted for. It wasn’t until my burden was lessened did I realize how tired my arms were from carrying him all the while. A circular flotation device also made its way to us, which humbly allowed us to clamp on to it.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Terminus

  In a rare occurrence, time was kind to us. The sound of an approaching engine could be identified well before I could waste all my energy treading water. Of course, it made more than a few become frightened on hearing its grumble, and I would be lying if I said the same did not happen to me, but where the noise arose, we saw a hovercraft emerge from the horizon. Other boats followed her lead. It was soon clear they carried noble intentions when they began fishing out the stranded. It was as if a Spirit of Grace and her legion of helpers were liberating us from the desolate abyss, even if they were only to lead us into the gates of a dank dungeon. With a closer scrutiny, I thought the hovercraft to be the same one that rescued us from the island base, but I suppose they all looked alike.

  The five of us were picked up by the primary rescuer and once my feet felt the haven of its surface, I felt myself become disoriented from exhaustion. What brought me back to some semblance of feeling was the vision of the crystal blue ocean lapping around us, but I had to shut my eyes from its beautifully placid view, not wanting to turn the seascape into something I would grow to hate. It too should not be defiled by the ones who made us grieve so much. I could then sense a cool, salty draft already begin drying my soaked skin. When the hovercraft filled with as many stranded as it could hold, our ride turned north, where I eventually saw the shoreline, growing wider with each passing second. No voices were heard for much of the short trip. Silence said more of what we had endured than anything comprised with words. Dayce by now was awake and no longer bleeding. His cut was shallow and he told me it only tingled a little, though I was afraid he was ailing from a concussion, since he still acted fairly dazed.

  It was only after our tender feet touched the softness of the empathetic sand did conversation begin among us. The highest ranking soldier, or I assumed him to be so, ordered us to remain where he left us, while the vessels returned to the crash site to retrieve more stranded. I would call them survivors, but that would be redundant, and perhaps incorrect. More exchanges ensued after the engines of the hovercraft and its fellow vessels faded away. These interactions never went as loud as murmurs. There was something coarse in the tightly wound air that even made the wind too afraid to breathe naturally. I saw my mother perusing all the faces in the crowd. I knew she was looking for Delphnia and Bervin, for I was guilty of doing the same. There was no success, which, I’m sad to confess, I was only too prepared for, but that didn’t stop my mother from continuing the quest. Near where the sea caressed the land, sat Eloram. She had collapsed on the sand and allowed the low tide to come to her as it may, her eyes fixated toward some incoming navy boats. She was drained no doubt, as it took all of my own strength to not let my legs fold beneath me, and I was surprised that she was able to sit up at all. I slinked through the crowd and came closer to where she rested. When I was beside her I noticed that her weariness came second to the anguish glimmering in her avid eyes, the sun’s rays impressing their brilliance on them. She was on the verge of crying.

  “Why?” I heard her ask in a near whisper. “Why would our own kind attack us?” I don’t believe she was talking at any one in particular and I even distrusted that she heard her own words.

  Her question was the main topic of discussion taking place on this stretch of the coastline. It had also been stirring in my wrecked head since the moment Siena informed me of the saboteur.

  “Roym?” said my mother. She had followed me, as well as Siena, to check on Eloram. “Do you think the Injectors controlled the ship?” Her voice was timid, knowing, no matter my answer, it would not bring us comfort.

  “Probably not,” I answered. “At least, not directly. All this started when someone sabotaged the engine. Psychologically snapping is one thing, but for it to coincide with another ship arriving to collide with us? It obviously points to a plan, and one that would do the most damage to both ships.” When I saw Siena’s eyes widen, I knew she realized what I was starting to imply.

  “Why would they want to damage their own ship?” a voice behind me probed.

  I turned around to see an old male sailor, who had evidently listened in to the launch of my explanation, along with the four others that were with him. They all had turned their attention to me, staring vacantly at me as they waited for my answer.

  After faltering, I said, “Because, much like the soldier who sabotaged the engine, they weren’t really in control of their actions.”

  “What do you mean?” asked the same interrogator.

  “I mean, the only explanation that makes sen… that answers everything, is that the Injectors were able to control them using their nanotechnology. They didn’t want to betray us, they were forced to.”

  “So they can control us?!” said the horrified sailor. “Like fucking puppets?!”

  Another one of his fledgling comrades investigated further by asking, “So, even now, an Injector could tell us to go crazy and there’s nothing we can do about it?”

  “It’s only a theory,” I explained somberly, “but, hypothetically, if we were exposed to enough of their nanotechnology, then it’s possible.”

  My theory was quickly unfurled across the group and largely treated as a legitimate fact, as there was no better justification to most of the actions and complications to what we had experienced. The more it propagated, the more I bemoaned being the designer. The possibility that our nigh invulnerable enemy had yet another trick in their arsenal gave many faces a new coat of tension. Nonetheless, if there was any trifling consolation that came from this dark hypothesis, it was appreciating that we were not deliberately betrayed by our own.

  Before we were allowed to grieve or have a moment where we could lament our woes and say our prayers, the static-filled sounds and shouts of more chaos arose. Being released from numerous radios, we could hear a battle brewing from where the Tower fell as clearly as though it was happening before us. A large force was still there and we listened to their days painfully come to a close. Adding credence to my supposition, since there were no reports about any Injectors or infected in the area, they were fighting amongst themselves. If able to muster enough courage and resolve to heed the calls coming forth, it was made known that the nanotechnology’s treacherous influence was not restrained to only a few, but wrought to a significant percentage of the forces there. Yitro was there. Was he too among those attacking his brothers and sisters, whether from self-defense or delivered madness?

  The shore was met with an influx of freshly arrived men and women after several more drop-offs by the rescue teams, giving the beach over a thousand salvaged stranded by the end of the hour. As our resplendent star started her descent, I saw a growing cloud of dust approach the beach from the barren northwestern vis
ta. Before I could derive a guess as to its source and decide whether I should be glad to see it or begin to wish I had not parted with the sea, I perceived the ever familiar and bumpy hum of diesel engines. The caravan of mostly military vehicles had already begun lining themselves at the edge of the beach. Without a word or command that I could hear, many had begun pouring into them, as though this was by now set as their routine. I myself become reawaked by a sailor who urged me and my assembly to follow their lead. I ended up sitting in the passenger seat of a jeep with Dayce in my arms, having never let him go since we were retrieved. He looked to be soundly sleeping, but I knew no one could have sound slumbers anymore. The girls were in the rear seats and, with a glance at each of them, I saw them as mere shells of their former selves, knowing that they were thinking the same of me. On the driver’s seat of the jeep was a young male soldier. He was too young, I believed. I wondered if he was even old enough to drive, seeing as his eyes had too much depth for them to properly make out was right in front of him.

  “Do you know where we’re going?” I asked the driver.

  He seemed to be contemplating, but of what, I was unsure of. “There’s a town not too far from here,” he presently said. “We’ve been using it as a base of operations. We’re falling back there.”

  His voice caught my attention, more so than his words. Even though it was strained and weak, it still carried such great weight that, regardless of the jeep’s idling engine, I could hear it as clearly as though we were in a hollow cave. I was certain if his voice held on to all its strength, it would have sounded just as authoritative as any of the highest-ranking generals. We began our trek northward once the convoy had gathered all those it could. Though the fleet kept in its single file order, there were no other vehicles on the desolate two-lane motorway we reached. Watching the parched wasteland we were now in, with barely the skeleton of a shrub to break the bare and boundless fields of sand, it was easy to think that not only might we be the lone survivors left on this world, but the last living beings in all the cosmos.