Utopian Apocalypse

Chapter 1

Thirty days after I found this old ship, the HMS Discovery, I've already seen more in this barren world than my parents would ever let me see. The old tugboat, with guns on every side, has been able to go places, running off the solar power of the inconsistent sun. I, Warden South, have spent most of my life, up until now, underground, basically trapped in a metal faraday cage. My dad was the only one to go out into the wild outdoors. He constantly preached that, "if something happens, take this respirator and run as far away as you can. Only take it off if you know you can breathe."

The respirators that my father spoke of had an operational lifespan of six days before it needed to be refilled. That's why I was lucky to find the withered HMS Discovery, an airtight tugboat with defenses and oxygen purifiers. The original owners were no where in sight, so I took the boat, never to be confronted for now. The tugboat looked like it had been through quite the ride, possibly being in service even after the bombs fell. The whole boat was a utopians dream. It had guns on it, a lifetime supply of food, and water filters. Fuel was hardly an issue since it seemed to run off of anything and everything. It had a boiler compartment for water and wood, and a natural gas tank. My father would've absolutely loved this tugboat. But I'm sadly two months too late. After about the third day of checking out the ship while at sea, I found a row of deactivated solar panels. Yet another way of producing energy for night travel. And it's quiet.

But the way I got to the tugboat might as well have been my life story, if it weren't for my father. The blasted faraday cage proved not to be very effective against the creatures outside. One night, during an acid storm, three or four creatures burst in, and cut the power. My mother was ripped from the doorway right in front of me, then my younger sister, and my older brother. My father yanked me out of the way and ran to the equipment storage area. He threw a respirator at me and yelled at me to put it on. We both ran towards the exit, and went through to the outside. That was my first time seeing it. It looked barren, with trees void of life. The door then burst open again. One of the creatures found us in the open. The thing had four jaws, with no bottom, looking like its actual mouth was a suction cup inside the four jaws. Both of its eyes were void of color, black as night, or a power outage. It looked strangely humanoid, with burnt skin, or leather, and was a light grey. It roared and grabbed my dad, dragging him into a nearby forest. The only thing he yelled was, "don't follow, run for your life," so I ran. I ran until I had to stop so my legs wouldn't fall off. I stopped running in an abandoned town, similar to the pictures my grandmother kept, that my mom was holding on to. One of the fusion cars my brother had a model of was rusted on the side of the concrete path I walked upon.

I walked into one of the many stores along the road, putting food and water into a small backpack I found. One store I found, Richards, had a gun just laying on the counter, I grabbed it and ran out of the store, making sure it wasn't a trap. The gun was small, and only had a few bullets with it. I went back inside the store after a few minutes and grabbed a holster that fit the gun, and strapped it to my waist. I searched the same store for another hour, trying to find anymore bullets for the gun. The rest of the store, sadly, was barren, covered in dried blood and spent bullet casings. The wind outside started picking up, signaling another acid storm, or regular storm, was approaching. I shut the glass door and ran up to the second floor of the department store. I set up one of the many torn tents and grabbed a small, crappy lantern off the floor. The light was dim, but enough I could faintly see the entire camping section. I set up my backpack like a pillow, and tightened the respirator so it wouldn't fall off, and dozed off asleep.

I woke up, but not completely. I didn't want to get up. I had just survived an entire day of my family being killed in front of me. I had no purpose to keep going. I looked up into the rafters and saw a banner reading, "when the going gets tough, the tough get going." I don't know why, but that singular quote, and my father, may be the reasons I'm still going. I get up and walk back down the stairs, grabbing any small trinkets or food packages I find, and head out towards the door. I open the door and as I look towards the right, the new wildlife caught me by surprise. A brown rhino hammerhead mutation was staring me in the eyes. It huffed and continued on its way, shaking the ground with each step. Farther up the road is the rest of the herd, bellowing every few seconds. Walking around the mid-morning streets yields only more creatures, mutated by the nuclear fallout.

I found the old dockyard of the town, showing the name of the very town; Wallace. I walk along side the dockyard entrance, plucking at the rustic ropes of the barrier, when a ship in the harbor catches my eye. An old tugboat, anchored at the dock, with a dead creature floating in the water next to it. I take off sprinting towards the boat, occasionally turning around every few feet, making sure I'm not being trailed or chased by one of the creatures. I skid to a stop in front of the medium sized tugboat, wielding the inscription HMS Discovery on the side. I step on the boat, taking in the site of the nearly squeaky clean floor, the slightly radiated, moldy hull keeping the ship afloat, and the numerous machine guns lining the entire hull. I walk towards the door of the cabin and open it, to be met with a breeze of warm air. The air is a fresh welcome from the cold outside, so I walk in, looking at the dangling showers. It finally clicks in my head that it's an airlock, and I prepare for the chemical bath, doused in so much water that my clothes are soaked inside and out. I get pushed by the excess air into the main quarters, still sopping wet. My respirator light turns green, the first relief of my adventure outside. I quickly take the mask off, breathing in the fresher air, enjoying the non-tinted experience. The inside of the cabin was clean and fresh, as if it had never been exposed to the outside, ever. I walk around the cabin, looking at the bookshelves, loaded with many almanacs and an atlas of different areas of the world accompanied by many novels, the small food processor, and the large selection of vinyl discs for the record player. 

I approached the wheel at the front of the cabin, with a pristine view of the outside, looking clearer than the respirator that I had been wearing for the second day. Being the curious person I am, I started pressing random buttons, beside the horn. I retract the anchor, then the motor brake, ready to begin a vast adventure, at my amateur hands.