Defection (MentalModel!Brothers and OC)

Prologue

My arms trembled with exhaustion as I kept the large watercraft pointed towards the western setting sun, the hum of the motor becoming more and more of a droning sound as sleep threatened to take over. I knew that this was a really dumb idea, but I wanted to get back to my family -- back to my parents so we could ride out this worldwide disaster together.

Sparing a quick glance behind me, I saw the unbroken watery horizon stretch all the way around me as the clouds above me started to turn to deeper shades of orange and red.

Many called me insane, and some commented that I wouldn't last the eight-day trip by boat, but I ignored their jeers and taunts as I used the last of my exchanged currency to buy a motorboat. There was enough gas in the expanded tanks for the first three days, so I supplied myself with enough petrol to push me towards America's east coast in the hopes that the lighter weight would increase the distance I could travel as I emptied the cans into the tank.

The only thing that I didn't have was a radar.

I had somehow stayed up for four nights, fighting off sleep and exhaustion by portioning the caffeinated drinks that I had bought. Blinking harshly, I tore my eyes away from the hallucinations of small colored orbs darting around my boat, focusing back on the horizon ahead of me.

I needed to make this crossing, to know that America was still there and not destroyed like the whispered rumors had been commenting.

----

A loud screech startled me from my unexpected rest, my hands numb from gripping the steering wheel harshly as I bolted up from the only seat on the boat.

Quickly rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I nearly screamed as a missile soared right over my boat, the high-pitched whine of the engine drowned out when it dove into the water tens of feet away from me. A muffled thud sent a sizable explosion of water spraying upwards, the finer droplets carried a little by the wind as most of the torrent splashed back down near the area. Glancing back from where the missile had come from, I stared in horror as I watched three warships engage each other in a skirmish.

Two of the warships were smaller than the third one, charging towards the larger ship as it raced away from the obvious pursuit. Reacting quickly to the surge of speed from the larger ship, both of the pursuing ships accelerated and pulled away from it as multiple clanks were heard from across the water. A moment later, several missiles similar to the one that almost hit me shot high into the sky from both of the smaller ships, arching down and streaking towards the larger warship.

Many of the missiles collided with some kind of invisible forcefield, the explosions curling around an unseen sphere as several pink medium-sized hexagonal plates revealed themselves from the impact of the blast, spidering out to cover the diameter of the hits before fading from view once more.

My heart stopped, realizing that all three of the warships were from the "Fleet of Fog" -- the very same force that had destroyed most of the world's naval forces and cut off nation-states from each other.

They were the reason why I couldn't go back home for the past four years.

The bow of the larger ship was aimed right at me, sending spray around its sides and somehow picking up more speed as another round of missiles launched into the air from the smaller ships. It was several hundred feet away from my boat and closing in fast.

I paled and turned the key in the engine ignition, the starter sputtering uselessly as the fuel gauge warned me that I was out of fuel in the tanks. There was no time to refuel, jumping off of the boat as the bow of the larger warship cut right through the deck area and continuing on like it hadn't hit anything. I was swept up in the wake as the large waves rolled over me, the cold ocean water sending a shock through my body.