It's the End of the World as We Know it (Silent Moments Series: Book 4)

Chapter 30

 Murphy's urgent shout from the main floor jolted us back to reality. "Kegan! Bellamy! Get down here!" he yelled, his voice laced with urgency.

We hastily separated, and I quickly wiped away my tears, attempting to compose myself. As Bellamy and I descended to the main floor, the gravity of the situation hit us anew. The monitors displayed the horrific and unstoppable advance of the death wave. It was a visual confirmation of the impending doom that awaited those still on Earth. I found Raven and instinctively reached for her hand, intertwining my fingers with hers. There was a silent understanding between us, a shared sense of helplessness in the face of such overwhelming destruction. Together, we watched the monitors, each of us lost in our own thoughts as we witnessed the death wave's relentless march. The images on the screens were a stark reminder of the finality of what was happening outside – a world being consumed by an unstoppable force.

Eventually, the monitors flickered and cut out, leaving us in a stunned silence. The loss of the visual connection to the world outside was like the final closing of a door, a door to a place we could never return to. In that moment, we stood together, a group united by circumstance and survival. The knowledge that we were some of the last remaining humans, about to embark on a journey into the unknown, was both terrifying and sobering. As we faced the monitors, now dark and lifeless, there was a collective sense of mourning for what we had lost and what lay ahead. It was a moment of profound reflection, a moment where the reality of our situation truly sunk in. We were leaving behind everything we knew, stepping into a future that was as uncertain as it was daunting.

As Raven detailed the complexities of our mission, a palpable tension filled the room. Her meticulous breakdown of the logistics and technical challenges underscored the enormity of what we were about to undertake. She continued, her voice steady but laden with urgency. "We have just 90 minutes to conduct a preflight check that normally takes six hours. We need to retrieve the oxygenator from the lighthouse, adapt a two-seater cockpit to accommodate eight people, and stock the cargo hold with enough supplies to sustain us until the algae farm is operational."

The gravity of the situation was evident in every word she spoke. Murphy's attempt at humor, a characteristic response to stress, provided a brief moment of levity in an otherwise tense atmosphere. "I thought you said it was going to be hard," he said, his words tinged with a wry acknowledgment of our perilous situation.

Raven, unfazed, addressed the more daunting aspects of our plan. "Piloting Becca's rocket, which was designed for docking with Polaris, not the Ark, adds another layer of complexity."

Harper's inquiry about the difficulty of piloting was genuine, reflecting the group's reliance on Raven's expertise. Raven's response, however, revealed an even greater challenge. "The hardest part is ensuring we have enough oxygen. The CO2 scrubbers on a two-person rocket won't support eight of us."

My suggestion of using supplemental oxygen was met with the harsh reality of our limited resources. "Our tanks only hold an hour of air," Monty pointed out, his tone somber.

Raven's confirmation of our predicament was grim. "We have one hour to get into orbit, dock, and start the life-support system. And we're relying on an oxygen generator meant for a small lighthouse."

Murphy's comment, half-serious, underscored the absurdity of our situation. "You suck at talking people into things," he remarked.

Bellamy's direct question to the group was a call to action. "Does anyone here still need to be talked into this?" The unanimous, silent response from the group was a testament to our collective determination. Despite the overwhelming odds, our resolve was unwavering.

"Good," Bellamy said, acknowledging our commitment. "Now that we know the many ways we might die today, let's focus on what we need to do to live."

In that moment, as we stood together in Becca's lab, we were united not just by a common goal, but by the shared realization of the stakes involved. Each of us was prepared to do whatever it took, to face the uncertainties and dangers head-on. We were more than a group of survivors; we were a team, bound together by the need to protect each other and the hope of finding a future beyond the death wave and the desolation of Earth. The weight of the decisions we had made, the sacrifices, and the risks ahead were palpable. Yet, in the face of such daunting odds, our shared resolve and the trust we placed in each other were our greatest strengths. We were ready to embark on a journey that was as uncertain as it was necessary, driven by the unyielding will to survive and the bonds we had forged in the crucible of our trials.