Remainers

To Those in the Future, Part 3

One year had passed since the Ackertons' shelter went into operation, and John Malcolm was cleaning windows, as he always was this time of day. The gray murky water was the same as it had always been, and it made him wonder exactly what was happening up on the surface. He doubted the radiation would have dissipated so quickly, and once again, he wondered just how long he'd have to stay inside this shelter.

It wasn't necessarily that things had changed, per se, more so that people had become too accustomed to the shelter. At first, people were awed by the fact that they were in an underwater shelter. Then, they were distracted by the novelty of living and working in the shelter. By this point, though, that had worn off, and frankly, people had begun to grow bored.

It wasn't surprising, of course. Meals were cloyingly similar, the shelter's environments were a constant pale white, and while the manufacturers did their best to create new products for the shelter's inhabitants to play with, ultimately people had become bored of what little they could do to pass the time. The real surprise was how the shelter had gone a year before this had become a problem, and that was likely due to the bizarre nature of the shelter itself.

The first real problematic incident happened a few days ago. Out of nowhere, one of the window washers had a psychotic break and fell out of his harness. Thankfully, he was on a lower window and managed to survive, but his incident ended up sticking in the minds of the general populace. After all, it was the first interesting thing that had happened in the shelter since people first started living here, so people began spreading gossip and rumors about it all over.

To be honest, it all rubbed John the wrong way. He wasn't particularly close with the other window washers, but he did see a sort of kinship with them, and seeing the public entertain themselves with loose talk about a co-worker irked him. There wasn't much he could do to stop them, though, other than confronting them, and that would simply give them more to gossip about.

So here he was, continuing to wash windows while trying to forget about what had happened to his fellow washer. His work was almost done for the day, and as soon as it was, he couldn't wait to head right over to the Ackerton bar. He normally wouldn't go to the bar so quickly, but the less time he spent about gossiping rubberneckers, which seemed to be everywhere these days, the better.

When he opened the doors to the Ackerton bar, Julio was behind the bar as he always was. There were a few patrons around this time of day, but thankfully they were the type to keep to themselves. John sat down at the bar and ordered a beer. Julio handed him a bottle with a sympathetic look.

"I heard what happened. Was he someone you knew?"

"Not really. Even so, it's a little rough hearing everyone blabber on what might have happened. You don't mind me hanging here for a bit, do you?"

"Not at all." Julio grinned. "Just make sure not to drink too much, understand?"

"Don't I always?"

Julio chuckled as he went back to his work. John leaned back in his seat and sipped lightly at his beer. The atmosphere of the bar was quiet and moody, which made it the best place for him to relax without having to deal with the hubbub of the public. It would be some time before the bar started to fill up, so for the time being he could at least relax here for a bit.

About an hour later, Martina stumbled into the bar, looking a little disheveled. She only had some light makeup on, and her eyes betrayed how exhausted she was.

"You just wake up?" John asked with a smirk. Martina shot him back an annoyed grumble.

"Only got five hours of sleep last night. Those self-centered Ackertons kept me singing 'til morning, the bastards."