The Electric Eagle

Chapter 3 - Through Rain and Ruin

Finn gazed across Elephant and Castle, his eyes tracing the landscape as the hazy sun reached overhead. The once bustling bottom of Walworth Road had transformed into a desolate wasteland. Brick houses that had once lined the adjoining streets had crumbled, sinking into the earth as if swallowed whole. The shops, once filled with life, were now makeshift water tanks, repurposed to capture the rainfall. These tanks sent the water coursing through the abandoned tube lines, channelling it toward distant storage stations. Large, rusted tubes jutted out from the rooftops, plunging the collected water back into the ground, a lifeline for the drowning city. In the distance, the high-rise blocks that surrounded the road stood resolute, their towering forms piercing the sky, a stark contrast to the devastation below. Beyond Finn's view, a sprawling metal bridge arched over the Elephant and Castle roundabout, connecting to the road that led toward Waterloo. The entire borough seemed to be held together by a patchwork of bridges and slabs of metal, a fragile web supporting the remnants of civilisation. Finn lingered for a moment longer, then turned to continue his solitary walk down the track. Overhead, an electric eagle sliced through the air, its wings cutting through the rain as it soared toward Spillship 10. That afternoon, the bay would witness a pilgrimage. From the sky, the travellers appeared as tiny specks of dust, drifting together in the wind. Some were driven by a fear of "God's wrath," others by a fragile hope for a new beginning. Many simply had no other option, resigned to a fate they could no longer control. Above them, the electric eagles circled, their sensors tracking those who had answered the call.

Finn moved eastward from the roundabout, his pace quickening as he left the crumbling remnants of Elephant and Castle behind. The road ahead was a patchwork of cracked train track and rising lakes, lined with the skeletal remains of what had once been thriving communities and businesses. Broken glass and debris crunched underfoot as he navigated through the maze. The occasional flash of a faded sign or rusted lamppost hinted at a world that once was, reminding Finn of bus journeys he used to take through this place, in a life now gone. The further he went, the more desolate the surroundings became. The towering structures of the city faded into a distant silhouette, replaced by empty lots, their surfaces eroded by the relentless downpour. Finn's path led him over a narrow bridge that spanned the swollen river below, the water rushing angrily beneath, threatening to breach its banks. As the sun began its slow descent to the west, Finn found himself nearing South Bermondsey station. The air grew thicker with the scent of decay as the tracks bent into the old station. The station was now half sinking under the weight of time, its metal frame exposed, windows shattered, and platforms submerged in shallow pools of water. The once-familiar sounds of trains and commuters had been replaced by the eerie silence of abandonment.

As Finn crossed the threshold into the station, the enormity of his journey began to weigh on him, each step sending shoots of pain up through his legs. Ahead, through the misty veil of rain, the immense form of the Spillship loomed into view. Its rounded walls stretched impossibly high, reaching toward the heavens. The sight sent a tremor through Finn's heart, his pulse quickening with awe and dread. The ship was terrifying in its sheer scale. As the train tracks dipped down, they merged with wide concrete steps that led to the waterfront. Finn's gaze shifted as he started catching glimpses of faces through the rain. A girl with auburn hair floated beside him, her eyes downcast, her movements mechanical. Her face was as pale as marble, her skin tinged with a ghostly blue. Finn watched her as she drifted away, into the grey mist ahead. His attention was then drawn to another figure, a boy with long dreads that cascaded down his body, nearly reaching his knees. His eyes were hollow, filled with a deep, sorrowful emptiness, mirroring the despair Finn had seen earlier in the woman at a bus stop. Finn's voice broke the silence as he called out to them both, his hands waving desperately in the air. But neither the girl nor the boy responded. They continued their trancelike march toward the ship, oblivious to his presence, like zombies drawn to some unseen force. With a growing sense of unease, Finn carefully descended the concrete stairs. Ahead, he could just make out the outline of a blue gazebo perched atop the walkway near the ship. As he approached, he saw two figures in white hazmat suits standing beneath the tent, greeting the approaching crowd with silent gestures. Drawing nearer, Finn noticed a gap between the walkway and the ship, a chasm filled with water as dark as the night sky. The sight of it sent a wave of nausea crashing through him. As he reached the gazebo, a sinking feeling settled in the pit of his stomach, heavy and inescapable. He swallowed hard, the weight of his decisions pressing down on him as he murmured to himself, "What have I done?"