The Glass Sea

Pushing through the sandstorm fist clenched tightly. This storm would pass shortly, but it was beating down on Michael. His goggles were caked with a mixture of sweat and sand. He had been walking for what seemed like an eternity. He was barely even sure of what direction he was heading in. He just knew it would be home when he reached it.

Since the global war of 2041, there were few survivors and even fewer places of refuge. The world was transformed into a dessert planet. There were seas of glass from the later bombings. One would think after the initial destruction, both sides would cease knowing they all but destroyed the planet, but they kept going. All to know their enemy would never breath again.

The sandstorms were short but frequent. Finding drinkable water was the equivalent to finding oil in the days leading up to the final war. Michael was out searching for any sort of river or lake that not been decimated but the fires and extreme heat. It would still rain but unless you were able to filter or boil the water, it would be undrinkable. Even if you could turn it into drinkable water, you were never sure when the next rainstorm would come. On top of all that, you could only carry so much to your next destination.

Michael clenched his hand even tighter. He had lost too much to potentially lose the contents of his fist. Clinging on to some sense of purpose. Something to keep him going. He was pressing though what once was Illinois. Towards the great lakes in search of sustainable water. He assumed there would already be a community and he could become apart of somewhere again. It had been a year since the tragedy that befell the world.

It was hard to imagine that anyone could survive the horrors that came from the war. Michael was spelunking in what had been New Mexico. Deep underground when the first waves of fire hit the west coast and made its way east. The east coast was hit in similar fashion and the coasts were gone within the first couple for hours. Days later the fires met in the middle, finally dying out weeks later.

After exhausting his emergency kit and rations and pushed to the verge of starvation and dehydration, Michael pulled himself out of the cave and started to walk. It was a miracle that it rained that first day on the surface. He purified as much water as he could drink and then as much as he could carry. It would be two weeks before it rained again. Buildings that once severed as markets were nothing but burnt memories of once thriving commerce and supply.

Michael had no way of knowing how or if his family survived. He pressed on to where his home had been in Austin Texas. It took him just over five weeks to make it back on foot. Some days were spent without movement in hopes it would rain or he would find water not yet evaporated.

Upon arriving in his hometown, the scenery had not changed at all. Still, the places building use to stand now ash. He could not even be sure where his home once stood anymore. He felled to the ground on his knees and cried. There really was nothing left. Punching the rubble in anger as if he could beat it back to life, his hand glanced off something familiar. A small box his wife used to keep her most precious jewelry in. The box was barely recognizable and most of the items inside were melted into one other. Somehow, one locket remained intact.

The locket had once belonged to Michael’s mother-in-law. She had a picture of her only daughter inside its heart shape from when she left for college. When she passed away it was left to his wife as a keepsake. Of all the things to be saved from the fire, this was the one thing that sparked some life back into Michael. Just maybe he could keep going, walk a little farther, find more survivors, be useful.

He decided if there were going to be bodies of fresh water left in this country, they would have to be large to start if they were going to survive the bombings and fires. From Austin, Michael decided he would try to reach the mighty Mississippi. If there was nothing there, he would attempt the journey to the great lakes.

The Mississippi had been reduced to a mere trickle of a stream. They had built a reservoir to keep as much water as possible, but it was not ideal. The people that had set camps there were already starting to over work its ability. Michael stopped there for a few months but knew he would have to move on to survive. He would look back at these people and knew there was not a lot of time left for any of them. They were already starting to pick fights of who got first drink or how much water they could remove from the reservoir at a time. It would not be long before the strongest and most irrational took over and life was lost to ignorance and greed.

Michael had filled what he could and moved on North. The great lakes had bigger promise. It was an unfortunate thought, but it was less likely for people to be there. Smaller populations to start and it was unlikely anyone else would have made the trip so there should be plenty for him to live.

The trip north was easier than the trip east. It was slightly cooler, and he now had the experience to balance the keeping of water and travel as lightly as possible. The desert was still a mix of glass and dirt. Although a very beautiful sight, the reflection still proved dangerous. Constantly changing direction to avoid the glass and sights that had been hit from the bombs. Trying to navigate from an old compass and the direction of the sun, but Michael had very little experience with this. What would have taken an expert hiker 14 days in ideal conditions, took Michael 3 months.

Pushing through the sandstorm fist clenched around his wife’s locket tightly. This storm would pass shortly, but it was beating down on Michael. His goggles were caked with a mixture of sweat and sand. He had been walking for what seemed like an eternity. Just over one sand dune would be the edge of Lake Superior. Lake Michigan had been dried up and all that was left of the great lakes was Superior. He was almost there. Just one more sand dune to get up and over. But Michael did not know this. He stopped to rest for the night. As he closed his eyes, he was not sure they would ever open again. He was just too exhausted. Too tired to physically keep going. His body gave out in the middle of the night. Still clutching his wife’s locket.

Down in the settlement just over the dune was a women named Guinevere. She had come to the lakes to stay with her parents just before the war had started. Traveled from Austin to stay for a week, had turned into a year. Her husband was out cave diving in New Mexico and was assumed dead. Her parents were already in poor condition when she arrived. They passed away a couple of months into the new world.

Guinevere had become a hunter for the new settlement. She did whatever she could to help as she had no one to care for anymore. She traveled out for the day to find any sort of animal for food. She stumbled upon a man almost covered with sand. She says his condition was waning and she dragged him over the dune and called for more help. People from the settlement came and helped her bring the man in to get him cleaned up and bring him back to health. It was weeks before he regained conscience and was able to speak. Guinevere had not been in to see him since she brought him in. She had work to do, and this was not the first person she had found and rescued.

Michael opened his eyes. It took him awhile to realize where he was and what was happening. After a couple more weeks of gaining his strength back he was finally ready to start helping around the settlement. The young women that was taking care of him gave him back his locket and his tattered clothes. She asked what was in the locket that even inches from death he still held onto it. He opened it and told her all about his wife Genny and how she most likely died in the first attacks. As his eyes were starting to tear up from the telling the young woman stopped him. “I know Genny! She is the one that brought you in!” she exclaimed.

Michael was left stunned. He did not know what to say. The young woman explained that she would be returning from a hunt any minute. Michael rushed outside just in time to see the hunters returning over the dune. He raced towards them. His mind was rushing through thought after thought. How did she get here, would they still love each other as before? As he approached the group, he noticed something was not right. They were carrying one of the members and blood was dripping into the sand. They stumbled and fell just as Michael reached them. He was able to catch them before hitting the ground.

He removed the goggles from a red-haired beautiful woman. It was his Genny. She looked at him with confusion and amazement. She tried to speak “..how..” she muttered but he told her not to speak and that they would get her help. She had already bled a lethal amount and there was not enough in the settlement to save her. Michael was able to give her one last kiss and thank her for the locket that kept him going. Thanked her for rescuing him and apologized for not being able to save her. She passed away in his arms.

Michael took her position in the hunts. He continued her work of doing whatever he could to help the survival of these people. He always wore that heart shaped locket and never let it leave his sight. After all, it is what saved him.