Life Amongst Fury
A Glimpse Into A Storm Torn Future
When Zoe was young, her grandfather would sometimes allow some precious electricity to be used to power a small LCD screen hooked up to an old-timey DVD player. The movies that played on the screen showed a different world.
A world where people didn’t live in constant fear of the fury.
A place where the people’s day-to-day wasn’t working on expanding the underground shelter network. The background music was something other than punctuations of the metrological alert’s tones.
Zoe flinched awake. She guessed something had banged against one of the ventilation chimneys. It was the height of the fury season, a cyclone had made landfall 24 hours before. The soft snores of her family could be heard in the darkness while the low howl of the wind made its way through various ventilation tunnels of the shelter. She lay staring into the void mulling over the contents of her dreams. They had been about her grandfather, who had recently passed away. A heaviness swelled in her chest as she revisited the loss.
She must have dozed off again because suddenly it seemed quiet.
Propping herself up into one elbow she listened. The air was damp, it always was. Condensation was an issue in the shelters with all the people breathing in a poorly ventilated space and the area was naturally humid.
Too much ventilation lets in too much wind and water — not enough and they all suffocate.
Then quiet.
She thought she must be imagining things it was unusual for a cyclone to go this calm. Perhaps the eye was right over them.
Getting up, she waved her arms across the wall looking for the metrological terminal. As she touched it, it lit up showing the cyclone had dissipated.
Squinting, she opened the door to the corridor. Her feet patted against the damp concrete towards the entrance of the shelter. Carefully she cranked the first door open — then the second.
The crash of the waves in the distance filled her ears as she arose out of the mound. In the grey-blue of the predawn, the debris and shelters that still stood were stark silhouettes.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the beam of light. She watched as the figure bounced along the edge of the freshly washed-away shoreline wearing a headlamp.
Zoe frowned — that was odd.
Weaving carefully through the debris she made her way toward the figure. As she approached she recognized Ari standing on the steep slope digging through the sand.
Ari was different — he was smart and quiet but he wasn’t like normal people. He didn’t seem to have any friends and could often be found tinkering with electronics or reading books. When you spoke with him he would never look you in the eyes or at your face. During the storms, he would panic and had been known to run away.
How he hadn’t died yet was anyone’s guess. And here he was doing something dangerous again — out on a sandy shoreline that could collapse into the water at any given moment.
She had been ready to shout at Ari — but then she saw them.
On the slope, a hole had been exposed and in the hole were white spherical objects — eggs of some kind. Amongst the egg shells, small black creatures crawled tumbling down the ledge as they spilled out of the now-exposed nest.
Zoe stood mouth agape. She had never seen sea turtles in person before. Ari was trying to frantically carve a path to the waves for them.
Zoe ran over and began to help.
Ari looked up at her in shock — but he just gave her a curt nod as he continued creating a path down to the waves for the sea turtles.
The damp gritty sand and dirt were uncomfortable to dig through, and she began to shiver as the wind mingled with the salty spray.
A deep excitement filled her chest, a burning need to help these creatures.
Waves lapped at her feet — and she looked up. She watched the dark curly-haired youth dart up to the hole and begin to guide the turtles with his headlamp.
They pushed themselves along with their front flippers — leaving weaves in the sand. In a little line, they followed the light down their personally made causeway.
As each turtle made it to the waterline they would wait until the next wave washed in — then disappear. The last turtle vanished just as the golden dawn broke over the horizon.
Zoe climbed to safety and threw herself on the ground staring out to sea — she had never seen anything like it. Ari sat down beside her.
“How did you know about the nest?” She asked.
“I found it a few weeks ago and covered it back up. I tried to protect it but then the storm came. I was sure it was going to be destroyed.” A tear made a trail down his sandy face — he turned away from her wiping it in an attempt to hide it. “ Then there was an explosion and the fury stopped.”
“What?”
“I don’t know — maybe it was one of the tests — maybe it worked.”
Silence fell between them. Ari broke it.
“I read a book that said they now go out to sea for many years before they return to the land — they say they come back to lay their eggs right where they are born.”
Zoe could hear the confused murmurings of people coming out of the shelters behind them. She placed a hand on top of Ari’s — making him look her straight in the eyes — an unusual gesture from him. She smiled softly.
“We’ll make sure when they come back it’s ready for them.”