Vanguard | Post-Apocalyptic YA

Part 8: On the Outs

I don't want to follow him, so I take the long way back to the suite I share with Ellen. I kick off my boots before entering my bedroom and I plop myself face first onto the mattress. I know I should be more worried about my sister and I am, but I'm so exhausted. She appeared to be getting good treatment and not in any immediate harm. We'll figure out a way to get her back, I just need to get a little rest . . .

It seems like I just barely shut my eyes, but when I open them again, the clock shows that an hour and a half has passed. I struggle to clear my mind while wondering what roused me. Then a message repeats on the loudspeaker next to my bed.

"All maritime personnel report to the quarterdeck in five minutes. I repeat. Last call for maritime personnel to report to the quarterdeck. Over."

Aw, shit. I'm still so tired I can barely see, but luckily I'm still in my uniform – although I've been wearing it for what's going on two days now – so I put my boots back on and make it to the rally point before the doors are shut.

I instinctively fall into line, but the guy I'm standing next to signals with his thumb toward the back row and comments in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear. "Ensigns are in the back, Wilhelm."

The others around us laugh and I pretend to be appreciative of the clarification. "Thanks, Lolly." I wink down at him and watch his grin disappear.

Roger and I have never liked each other, but ever since he made it clear on numerous occasions that my demotion brought him an insane amount of happiness, my dislike of him has grown even more. His call sign's actually Jolly, but I also have to get my jabs in wherever I find them. It doesn't faze me that he's at least ten years older than me since I don't give out respect based on age. With me, it's got to be earned, and Roger's not even close.

I reluctantly move back two rows amid the snickers, where I'm surrounded by fifteen and sixteen year olds. I turn out to be the last one in position because just then, the Commander walks in and begins to address us.

"It's good to see you back, ladies and gentlemen," he says, pacing before the front row of our highest ranked pilots. "I'm happy to report that most of the damage suffered by Vanguard following yesterday's quake has now been repaired. Tower Five has been partially reopened and it should be fully operational by tomorrow."

"I'd like to thank you all for your efforts in the swift evacuation, as well as in the damage assessment. I'm proud of how well you worked together and I think you all deserve a round of applause." The Commander begins clapping and we all follow suit.

The sounds bounce off the glass walls surrounding us with a sharp reverberation and all I can think of is how much I'd rather still be back in my own bed. Luckily we don't have too many of these events where everyone is present, and I hope the Commander keeps this meeting short.

He eventually stops and the crowd takes its cue, leaving the room suddenly much too quiet. Someone coughs, and the Commander starts pacing again until he is four rows up, but directly in front of me.

"Unfortunately, not all that I have to report on to you today is good news. While almost everyone made it safely back on board, there is one member of our crew who is still unaccounted for." He pauses and looks straight at me for the first time. "Magellan hasn't been heard from since she went out on a scheduled mission yesterday before the earthquake. Although we've sent several reconnaissance crews to look for her, at this point she's classified as MIA. I'm sorry, Will."

I can suddenly feel all eyes on me. I try to maintain a poker face because I know that if I try to act like a distraught sibling, I'll just end up looking like a fool. Thankfully, the Commander doesn't drag out the moment.

"We will continue looking, but in the meantime, we have to get back to work. For starters, all junior officers are hereby assigned to take a thorough inventory of available crafts, including spare parts." This directive is met with subtle groans from the kids next to me and it suddenly dawns on me that this is my assignment, as well.

"Because our operations were disrupted for almost a whole day, senior officers will return to their scheduled missions at thirteen-hundred hours, starting with Beta Team. I expect there aren't any questions, so you're dismissed," he says.

I'm beyond disappointed. Not only am I stuck with counting nuts and bolts for the foreseeable future, but Ray – who's part of Beta Team as I used to be – is getting to head out soon.

How to get my own pilot privileges back is another thing I'm going to have to eventually figure out. Without that, it doesn't matter if I decide to deliver a ferry to Governor Bradford because I won't be able to take it away. I definitely know that I can't count on Ray to help me, and I doubt Bradford would honor his agreement if he only got half of what he had asked for. But I also can't abandon Ellen, so I may have to take my chances. That is, if I can convince myself that I won't be dooming the entire population of Vanguard by taking away one of its only two means of mass evacuation.

While my next few days are consumed with these decisions, my nights are filled with nightmares. Surprisingly, I don't dream of my sister, but rather the nameless woman that Nelly shot. Her face though is always replaced by that of my mom. And in addition to always being tired – with Ellen not here, and with Ray and I on the outs – I also quickly find myself very alone.

It's not that I don't have other friends, but that they're all mutual with one of them. Those close to Ray want to know why we're not talking to each other, while those who are better friends with my sister want to know how I'm coping with her "death" and how they can help me get through it. Thankfully, my father is keeping himself busy as always, so I don't have to face him with more lies.

The deadline for us to deliver the ferries comes – and then goes – much too quickly. I'm a increasingly worried for my sister, but I tell myself that she's their only bargaining chip and they'd be stupid to harm her, even if we don't return on time. Pretty soon, I almost truly believe this.

By this time, I'm also so desperate for company that I make good on my promise to Anne-Marie for Tower Two's calamari Wednesday. Unfortunately, she invites several of her very chatty – and extremely pushy – girlfriends to join us. After almost wishing that I'd rather choke on my vitamin chasers than spend one more minute with this bunch, I decide that being alone isn't such a bad thing. In the end, I choose to avoid almost everyone just to spare the headache.

For the inventory, I get paired up with a fresh recruit named Robbie whose enthusiasm comes in handy when he ends up doing most of the work under my casual supervision. And by casual supervision I more or less mean napping in a maintenance bay corner. For some reason, it's the only time I don't get the nightmares, so I consider my relaxed treatment of orders more of a medical necessity than a relegation of duties.

The rest of my time I spend either in the gym or the observation lounge. The latter is where I can spend hours watching various sea creatures float by the glass walls – from tiny krill to huge sperm whale and everything in between. But no matter where I am, my mind is always on one thing: whether to still try to steal a ferry and attempt to trade it for my sister's release, or whether to leave Ellen where she is, in exchange for not compromising the safety of the people on Vanguard.

I agonize over the decision for another week until it finally occurs to me that there may be a way that I can actually do both.