Participants:
Scene Title | The Way Things Were, Part II |
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Synopsis | After contacting a parallel reality and finding her son, Michelle Cardinal fights for her life. |
Date | July 28, 2018 |
Gulls cry in the distance, the noise of the surf roars across the open ocean.
I want to marry a lighthouse keeper
and keep him company
Coasting across a choppy surf, a small ship dubbed the Featherweight plies the water between two towering remnants of the old world. These dark skyscrapers, windowless concrete monoliths jutting up from the ocean, are encrusted with barnacles and seaweed where they meet the surf. Gulls nest in the tall, empty windows where wooden scaffolding, net rigging, and rope pulleys extend outward. Some buildings, those closest together, have wood-plank rope bridges connecting them.
I want to marry a lighthouse keeper
and live by the side of the sea
A jaunty tune crackles in and out of the static over a console radio in the Featherweight's helm, and Captain James Woods leans lazily on the ship's wheel, dressed in his ratty bear slippers and bathrobe cinched at the waist with a terricloth belt. The tin cup in Woods' hand is hot water, flavored with a single peppermint candy slowly dissolving at the bottom. He takes a sip, sneering at the taste, then looks to the dim glow of the rising sun not quite breaking through the cloud cover.
"I fuckin' hate the ocean."
Far Away
And Deep Below
The Ark
A hardwired radio built into a desk crackles and splutters with a signal pulled from the surface.
I'll polish his lamps by the light of day
So the ships at night can find their way
Pale blue light shines from the triangular screen of a tall, cylindrical machine connected to the ceiling by a nest of spooling power cables. A ring of lasers spins at its top, flickering red and blue in the dark. A resounding crash strikes the metal ship's door sealing this research lab from the rest of the Ark, and fear is sunk bone-deep into the young blonde woman sitting in front of the radio, knees pulled up to her chest and tears welling in her eyes. "Why won't they stop?"
I want to marry a lighthouse keeper
Won't that be okay?
"It'll be okay, Destiny." Michelle Cardinal stares defiantly at the door to the lab, reaching inside of her jacket to withdraw an old World War II german Luger pistol from an underarm holster. She clicks the hammer back, and the noise elicits a sharp look from Destiny, then another to the door. Someone slams against the door from the outside again, people are shouting in the hall.
We'll have parties on a coral reef
And clam-bakes on the shore
Another resounding slam, this time hard enough to break rust away from the door hinges. The pounding is getting louder, closer together, the middle of the door is warping from the force of the blows. "Get behind the console," Michelle says as she steps diagonal to the doorway, some sixty feet between her and it. She steadies her arm, handgun readied, jaw set. Destiny scrambles out of her wheeled chair, hurrying around the radio console. She pops back up briefly, enough to grab the microphone and yank its cord over the top of the console and down behind it as she disappears again.
We'll invite the neighbours in
And seagulls by the score
With the next slam the door finally bursts open, and two men carrying an old police battering ram come tumbling into the room clad in mismatched black riot gear. Gunfire erupts immediately on their entrance, and the lead security officer takes a round through the faceplate and into the bridge of his nose. He gurgles, collapsing to the ground at the same moment the second shot hits his compatriot in the throat. He windmills back toward the doorway, slowing the advance of other security. Michelle breathes in and out heavily, sweat beading at her brow. Destiny is screaming in terror behind the console.
I dream of living in a lighthouse, baby
Every single day
Two more men come running in, dressed in heavy wool jackets carrying bolt-action rifles. The first one through the door takes a bullet to the forehead, blood spraying across his friend who is shot square in the mouth, a spray of teeth and blood exiting out the side of his face. Michelle starts to walk toward the door, the long trail of her grimy once-white lab coat swishing behind her as she walks. Another man comes in, firing a handgun wildly. One of the bullets whizzes past Michelle close enough to disturb her hair, and for is effort he's shot twice; once in the sternum and again in the jaw. He crumples backwards to the sound of shouting outside.
I dream of living in a lighthouse
The white one by the bay
Someone out in the hall shouts, and there's a clink-plink-clatter as a grenade bounces off of the door frame and comes skidding across the floor toward Michelle. Her eyes widen, stance widens, and before she can throw herself to the side there's a violent flash of light and a resounding bang that blinds and deafens her. Two more men come running in, rifles up, ready to fire. Another flash of light enters the room, and the ends of their rifle barrels drop off with glowing hot scorch marks where they were once connected. The two security officers don't have time to react before their limbs begin separating in the same fashion, the cuts cauterized as though they were severed by a surgical laser.
So if you want to make my dreams come true
You'll be a lighthouse keeper too
Manifesting from a swirling mass of yellow and gold light tinged with rainbow hues at the edges, a young blonde woman holds out a hand toward the door. When another man comes running in, she explodes into a being of light and moves in a blink-quick dash from door back to where she was standing. The man entering the room doesn't even scream before the upper half of his torso falls off of the lower half and smoke issues from the perfectly clean cut. "Mom!" Rianna Cardinal throws an arm around her mother, looking back to the door with wide eyes. "They're retreating, regropuing, we've gotta go!"
We could live in a lighthouse
The white one by the bay.
"Des— Destiny," Michelle hisses, waving at the console blindly. "Destiny come on!" It takes a second for the young woman to peek out, and she's quick to clap her hand over her mouth and let out a squeak of horror on seeing the bodies. Rianna props up her mother and moves to the door with Destiny right behind her. "We need to find Edward and Else and get to the sub," Michelle instructs, and her daughter offers a firm nod as they begin to tread thorugh the steaming blood of the Ark security forces.
I'll polish his lamps by the light of day
So the ships at night can find their way
"Mom, what— the fuck is going on?" Rianna asks as they move to the doorway, and all Michelle can formulate as an answer is ejecting the magazine of her pistol, checking to see how many rounds she has left before snapping it back in place.
I wanna marry a lighthouse keeper
Won't that be okay?
"Mom?"
Far Away
And On The Sea
The Featherweight
"Lotta glass in this haul," comes a voice from behind Woods.
We'll take walks along the moonlit bay
Maybe find a treasure, too
He turns, just enough to see Carina walking in, dirty blonde hair disheveled and an open can of Campbell's soup in one hand, steam coming out of the top of the cap. She taps a plastic spoon against the side of the can, then looks out the front windows of the ship's helm to the towering skyscrapers rising from the rough surf. "When we get to Tuck's, I'm picking up some honest to god fucking coffee."
I'd love living in a lighthouse
How 'bout you?
"You know he's just going to sell you instant coffee," Woods says with a wave of one hand ahead of himself. "Tuck and his flavor crystals can go take a flying fuck off a short pier." Woods looks back to the horizon, continuing to coast on the current and making small corrections with incremenetal adjustments of the ship's wheel. Carina comes up beside him, quietly eating her soup straight out of the can.
I dream of living in a lighthouse, baby
Every single day
Slowly, Carina looks from her soup down to the radio sitting by the wheel. Her brows furrow, lips downturn to form a creased frown. "What…" Her blue eyes flick back up to Woods, "the fuck are you listening to?" Woods looks back at her, then down to the radio, then back again with a hurt expression.
I dream of living in a lighthouse
The white one by the bay
"It's a broadcast from the Tower. S'comin' in pretty clear t'day, s'gotta be the cloudcover." Woods says defensively. "I mean it beats listening t'the maddening sound of the bloody waves an' shit pidgeons." Carina raises one brow, maintaining eye contact without faltering as she reaches out and tweaks one of the radio's knobs, and slowly turns the volume down until its barely audible.
So if you want to make my dreams come true
You'll be a lighthouse keeper, too
Carina lifts her hand from the knob. "It's crap," she says adamantly. Woods rolls his eyes in response, looking down to the floor and then back over to her. He doesn't say anything, and she takes that opportunity to bring up her plans. "Once we hit the 'Pelago, I'll bring up our haul. You look at negotiating for the fuel. Last thing we want to do is dip into our reserves."
We could live in a lighthouse
"Yeah…" Woods says as he slouches down onto the ship's wheel, watching through the window as a seagull lands on the railing at the bow of the ship.
The white one by the b—
"I…" Woods glances down at the radio when it fizzles out, making a noise in the back of his throat.
Can anyone hear me?
Woods looks at the radio, then slowly up to Carina with one brow raised.
Hello?