Vanguard | Post-Apocalyptic YA

Part 22: Carried Away

When I open my eyes, I have no idea where I am or how I got there. All I know is that I'm lying on my back – the ground beneath me is hard and rough – and I'm shivering as I stare at the cloudy sky. Things start becoming clearer when a girl leans over me, water dripping onto my face from her soaked, frizzy blonde-tinted locks.

"Nelly—," I don't even recognize the raspy voice coming out of my throat, but she cuts me off anyway.

"Is this why you tied me up? To drown yourself? Idiot." She stares down at me and luckily, the worry in her eyes betrays the anger in her words.

Her words. Drowning. The Skipper!

I push myself on my elbows as I remember what I needed to do before I blacked out. "The hose . . . did I get it connected?"

She stands and crosses her arms before answering. "No, but I did. You know, for someone who has lived all of his life underwater, you sure are a crap swimmer."

"It's not like I had much need for swimming, genius. That's why we have submarines." I attempt to pull my legs under me to follow her up, but they're weak and I plop back on my butt. I can hear Nelly giggle, but this time I avoid eye contact.

"Lucky for you, your knot making skills aren't much better." She sticks her hand – free of any restraints – in my face before helping me up. "What I don't get though is why you'd tie me up in the first place. I mean we barely know each other. You haven't even asked me out or anything."

When I finally stand, I see that she's grinning from ear to ear. For a moment, we're only separated by a few inches, but I quickly take a defensive step backwards. "Oh, you think this is real funny, huh? I bet you're going to try to stop me now from leaving, too."

"Why would I do that? I told you there's nothing I want more than to leave this place. You should have just told me you were going back to Vanguard. I would have gladly helped you in exchange for going with you."

This gets my attention. "What? I thought that was the whole point. I mean why Bradford wanted the ferries. Doesn't he want to get all of you down there?"

Unfortunately, she just looks at me blankly. "Bradford feels nothing but contempt for Vanguard. I'm pretty sure that last thing he'd want to do is join those who despises the most."

The bluntness of this revelation shocks me, but I have to hear more.

"What all do you know, Nelly?" I step toward her again and grab her upper arms.

"The same as you, I guess. He wants a safe way for lots of people to get somewhere better. We've been collecting winter gear for weeks now, so that must be for that, too." She looks down at my hands and raises an eyebrow. I let go and turn around. Walking toward the water, I remember something else.

"And he's studying weather information for eastern Canada," I say.

"How do you know that?" She sounds legitimately surprised, so I guess this is important.

"Ellen's been working with Casey Chan in the meteorology lab. Why Canada, though?" I ask, hoping our situation has made her more inclined to talk.

Before she can answer, lightning flashes across the sky. It's almost immediately followed by a roar of thunder.

"If you want to leave, we have to hurry. This lull in the storm is only temporary. It's about to get much worse real fast." She points westward, where the sky is dark as night.

I briefly consider trying to tie her up again, but then I realize what she's done for me. "Thanks, by the way, for saving my life and all."

She laughs. "Your sister would have kicked my ass if I let you die."

Oh, great. Now I have two girls looking out for me. If that isn't a bruise to my ego--

"But are you going to get on with it? Bring the craft up, I mean," she continues. "That plastic tubing was to help the submarine resurface, correct?"

I reach for the remote in my pocket and my heart skips a beat when I don't feel it. Madly tapping at my body, I quickly find it in another pocket.

"Yeah, the tube is there to deliver air needed to achieve buoyancy." I turn on the gadget and press one of the four available buttons.

"How long's it going to take?" she asks.

"I have no idea." I watch the undulating waves in front of us. Meanwhile, lighting strikes again, crackling in a dazzling streak of white across the gray clouds. The remote starts shaking in my hand and the wait affords me the time to remember that I'm freezing. My clothes are soaked through and the unrelenting wind has chilled me to the bone. Looking at Nelly who's still standing next to me, I see that although she's hugging her body with her arms, her lips are turning blue. Without thinking, I reach over and pull her to me, and she immediately buries her face into my chest.

"I really hope this works, Will," she whispers, as her body trembles from the cold.

I can't bear to answer, but wonder whether a prayer would make any difference. Just then, the surface of the ocean in front of us changes. The waves are interrupted and an unnaturally flat spot appears. Within seconds, the area with the buoy holding up the end of the plastic hose is covered with tiny bubbles that make the water seem milky white. Finally, the glass canopy of the Skipper forcefully emerges, momentarily spraying water around it. Taking a horizontal position, the craft's movement stabilizes.

I breathe a sigh of relief, while Nelly – who must have sensed my anticipation and turned her head toward the water – begins to jump up and down. Since I'm still holding her, I'm forced to briefly follow along. When she stops, I release her and press another button on the remote. The canopy pops open and slowly lifts.

"We have to get out there fast before the waves can carry it away," I instruct, putting the gadget away again. Then, without waiting, I trudge into the water and begin swimming. The current is now bringing the Skipper toward the shore, so we have less distance to cover. But it's also getting it closer and closer to the rocks, which could cause irreparable damage.

I soon reach the craft and pull myself up easily. Once in the cockpit, I can see that Nelly was right behind me and I help her inside. She takes a seat on the floor behind the pilot's chair - the only available space besides the utility cubby - while I unhook and then pull in the vacuum hose. It's served its purpose and although I don't really want to have to use it again, I figure it's better to keep it just in case. I dump the curled up tubing into the girl's lap, take my seat at the controls, and close the glass canopy. Starting the engine, I feel like I'm already home.