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Chapter 2- Luke

Luke left James in the nurse's room and went off down the twisting hall of the boat until he reached the bunk room. He climbed onto his bunk, number 26, and sat down. He stared at the ceiling wondering whether or not Lisa and his mother were okay. He might never know. "Hey Luke!"

Luke looked down at the sound of his name. The boy that slept below him, named Asher, was waiting for him to hop down. Luke did so and joined Asher on the ground. "What's up?"

"Well, me and some guys were gonna play a game." Asher replied.

"Like what?" Luke asked.

"I don't know yet." Asher said.

"Well I'm really not up for playing a game at the moment." Luke replied.

"Oh." Asher looked disappointed, "Okay, I'll see you around then mate."

"Yeah." Luke clambered back up to his bunk and returned to staring at the ceiling. His mind was wandering too much to play any games. His little sister kept popping into his mind with her small innocent face, her rosy cheeks, and her bright blue eyes. The rocking of the boat on the waves as the storm tossed it lulled Luke to sleep, but with sleep came dreams.

Shrapnel crunched under Luke's feet as he stepped out from his bomb shelter. He coughed in the dust that had accumulated in the air from the bombs. His house still stood but houses around his were blown to nothing but scraps of wood. "Luke?" His sister Lisa asked from behind him.

"What is it Lisa?" He asked.

"Have the bombs stopped?" Lisa asked quietly.

"I don't know." Luke replied. Suddenly another bomb exploded nearby and Luke slammed the door to the bomb shelter shut. Luke turned around to make sure his sister was safe but what he saw made his mouth open in a scream of fear, terror, and loss. His mother lay dead and his sister lay unmoving as well. "No!" He whimpered. "You're not dead, you can't be. I was just talking to you!" He knelt beside Lisa, his tears dripping off his chin as they slid down his cheeks. "No," His voice was barely a whisper now as grief sucked all the energy from his words, its tongue lapping hungrily at the life that was draining from his mother and sister.

Luke woke with a start, his sheets were knotted around him and sweat drenched his body like a salty blanket. He swallowed his terror and sat up, untwisting the sheets that had formed a strait jacket around him. Once he was free of their grip he climbed down from his bed and relished the cold floor beneath his bare feet. Careful not to wake anyone Luke walked down the length of the giant bunk room to the door at the far end. He pushed it open and slipped out into the hallway. The rug that lined the floor outside the bunk room was coarse and rough as he walked along on its prickly surface. Luke opened the door at the end of the hallway and stepped out into the brisk night air. The storm he had fallen asleep to had stopped and the moon hung like a silvery shadow in the blackened sky. A few stars flickered across the blue canvas but not many. Luke let the breeze from the boats speed wash away the sweat that still caked his skin, as if he had leapt into the ocean instead of gazed at it. The wind whipped his dirty blond hair and the smell of the sea cleared his senses. He felt calm, but not calm enough to let Lisa and his mother slip from his mind. They hung there, like a spider clinging to its web. He only hoped that the war wouldn't reach America, but war had reached most countries already, pretty soon America wouldn't be an exception.

The boat drifted across the ocean, the hum of its large motors filled what would have been a quiet night. Although he was far away from London by now he could just make out the cloudy region of sky that was home to the bombs. He sighed, why did there have to be war? Why couldn't there be peace?