Writing for Fun
June 2019
Sunset Over The Sea - Lynn Gale
Mac was mesmerised, picking up the ornate framed photograph he examined it closely. The scene depicted a smiling boy in a small sailboat on a blue sea.
Where did it come from? All his teachings dictated that after the great surge of 2140 the oceans had dried up, leaving survivors to flee underground to escape the intense heat.
Looking around the pod, Mac was amazed, there was so much crammed into the small space. Along with the photograph, the room was filled with memorabilia from an age long past. Shells, rocks and jars of unusual fossilised creatures.
It was said that the man who lived here was 120 years old when he expired.
‘If only I had the chance to meet him, the stories he could have told.’
‘Get a move on, Mac,’ ordered Master Jin, ‘we have three more pods to clear today.’
The contents of the pod were placed in sealed boxes to be destroyed, as it was strictly for-bidden to keep anything that belonged to the deceased.
Collecting the items for disposal, something compelled Mac to tuck the photograph inside his overall. He finished his shift and headed back to the dwelling block.
Entranced by the scene in the photograph, Mac was interrupted by the arrival of his room share and friend. ‘What have you got there?’ demanded Mati. ‘Let me see.’ Mac reluctantly handed it over. ‘It’s a fake,’ declared Mati. ‘There are no oceans, they vanished hundreds of years ago.’ ‘But what if you are wrong, what if they still exist?’
‘We would know, they would have been seen.’
‘We are not allowed to leave the City. What if there is something out there.’
‘There is only wasteland, nothing can survive out there.’
He gave the photograph back to Mac. ‘Better not let the Masters catch you with this, you know the penalty for stealing from the pods.’
Mac gazed at the picture that captivated him so much. The sea looked so appealing, the sail white against a clear blue sky and the boy laughing and happy.
‘This is no fake, I must go and see for myself.’
Hiding the photograph in a small gap behind his locker, he lay on his bunk and imagined himself sailing on that boat with the wind blowing in his face.
The following day with two more pods to clear, Mac took the opportunity to scan the pe-rimeter of the City. Heavily armed soldiers patrolled the walls and a large company guarded the great gate.
Mac could not recall ever seeing it open.
‘Are they protecting or imprisoning us?’
That afternoon Master Jin ordered Mac to go to and help another team rid an infestation of sand rats in the lower levels which were chewing through power lines.
The dark dusty rooms beneath the city were overrun with the large yellow pink eyed rats. They wriggled and squealed in fear as the team grabbed them by their tails. Taking great care to avoid their long pointed gnashing teeth and place them in cages.
The caged rats were removed and traps set for any that escaped the original cull. As they prepared to leave, a particularly large rodent ran across Mac and seemingly vanished into thin air. Investigating he found a broken metal grille hidden by a partially collapsed wall.
‘Just need to check something, you go on.’ He waved the others away.
Kneeling by the grate Mac switched on his helmet light and peered into the darkness. A family of rats startled by the sudden brightness scurried away.
It was an old sewage pipe, unused for decades, full of debris but large enough to crawl through. Could this be his way out?
Leaving the city would not be easy. Meticulous planning was required. Vitoleum and a battery pack were essential along with protective clothes and boots. Help from friends was also required.
Mac put his plan into action the next day, getting himself assigned to the below ground cleaning team was the first thing he needed to do. Convincing Master Jin that he wanted to transfer from his more prestigious work on the surface was not going to be easy, but Master Jin gave his permission when Mac told him he wanted to study the sand rats.
Working below, out of the sunlight in the bowels of the city, the rats disturbed by the team had multiplied in numbers. Catching them would take longer, giving Mac more time to clear the pipe. He just needed to find out amongst his new team whom he could trust.
Fan seemed the most promising, she had been friendly and kind to him, while the others for their part chose to ignore the newcomer in their midst.
Mac seized his chance to speak to Fan while the others were dealing with an extremely agitated rat trying to gnaw its way out of a trap.
‘Do you believe there is something beyond the walls, Fan?’
‘We know there is nothing, Mac, our teachers have told us.’
‘What if they did not tell us the truth?’
‘Why would they do that, for what purpose?’
‘To stop us leaving the city,’ answered Mac. ‘I need to find out, will you help me Fan?’
Fan looked into his eyes which shone with a passion, shaking her head sadly she agreed. ‘I do not believe you will find what you are looking for, but I will help you.’
Mac also required Mati’s help with equipment and provisions.
‘Do you realise how dangerous this is?’ argued Mati. ‘If the Masters find out what you are planning, you know the consequences.’
‘I must go.’ Mac smiled at his friend. ‘I know there is something else out there.’
‘The oceans have long gone, you will expire in the dead land.’
Realising it was futile to convince Mac otherwise, Mati relented: ‘I will get what you need.’
Over the next few days Fan kept watch as Mac worked laboriously removing decades of rubbish from the old pipe, until he finally reached the outside wall.
Looking out over the desolate wasteland, regardless of any danger, He knew he had to leave. His only chance to realise his dream of seeing an ocean.
‘Come with me, Fan,’ he begged as they sat together during a recharge break. He had grown very fond of his good natured and sweet teammate.
‘I am contented here, Mac.’ She reached out and held his hand. ‘You must go and satisfy your desire, then return to me.’
That evening Mac collected the items that Mati had smuggled out of the stores. He filled his backpack, the photograph placed carefully on top.
‘Thank you,’ Mac put his hand on Mati’s shoulder. ‘You have been a true friend.’
Mati looked into Mac’s animated face. ‘Stay safe, my crazy room-share.’
The next morning Mac arrived early for his shift and hid the backpack in the pipe. He spent as much time with Fan as possible until the end of work day siren sounded.
As the others filed out, Fan turned around at the door, giving him a gentle smile and a small wave. Then she was gone.
Mac crawled into the pipe and pulled the grille back into place, packing dirt around to hold it upright. Dragging the rucksack behind him he reached the outer wall.
Sitting by the edge he watched as the burnt orange sun began to go down. When the final rays of light had disappeared over the horizon, Mac dropped down the last few feet to the ground. Taking one final look back at what had been his home all of his life, he began his journey.
Walking through the darkness, Mac stumbled several times on the rough uneven ground, he dare not risk switching on his helmet light as it would be seen from the city walls.
Resting during the day when the sun was at its highest and hottest, Mac travelled through the night. The strange and frightening sounds echoing over the wasteland kept him moving.
One morning the sun rose on the remnants of what once must have been a great city. It stood silent and foreboding. Tall towers of twisted broken metal were now the abode of large black feathered birds. Their beady eyes fixed firmly on Mac as he made his way through streets hampered by rusted burnt out vehicles. A gigantic wheel lay across an empty river bed which must have flowed through this metropolis, its broken spokes point-ing accusingly to the sky.
Resting in the shadow of one of these structures, Mac laid his batteries out in the sun to recharge. Taking out the photograph he looked at the laughing boy. ‘So close,’ he smiled. ‘I can feel it.’
A large rock flew through the air catching him on the side of the head, knocking off his helmet and sending him sprawling to the ground. Scrambling to his feet he found himself surrounded by several ragged figures carrying large sticks.
‘What do you want?’ Mac tried to back away as they swung the sticks menacingly above their heads and closed in on him.
The faces of his assailants were thin, dirty and contorted in rage. ‘Take those,’ ordered the biggest and most likely the leader, pointing to the batteries. His scarred face giving him a hardened cruel appearance.
‘No, please,’ begged Mac, ‘I need them.’
‘Lemme see what you got ‘ere,’ the leader snarled, snatching the backpack out of Mac’s hands.
Mac tried to stop them but a flurry of whirling sticks began beating down on him.
‘We don’t want your kind round ‘ere,’ was the last thing he heard before darkness over-came him.
Coming round a few hours later, Mac checked himself for damage. He could no longer see out of his left eye and something was wrong with his right arm.
They had also taken his boots along with the batteries.
His precious photograph had been ripped from its frame and torn in half. Picking up the pieces, Mac tucked them into his pocket.
Struggling to his feet, he knew he must carry on.
Forcing himself to walk, he kept going, hoping he would not run into them again. Leaving the ruined city he approached the edge of the desert where the rolling dunes seemed endless. Mac’s feet were now cracked and torn and he struggled to hike through the soft sand, but nothing would stop him now.
Climbing to the crest of a dune, Mac stood in awe at the magnificent sight of the ocean, the setting sun casting a million glittering diamonds on the surface and the rolling waves lapping at a golden beach below.
‘It’s so beautiful,’ he sighed. Was his mind playing tricks? Was that a boat complete with white sails bobbing out on the water?
Dragging his heavy legs he headed down towards the sea. Falling several times, he pulled himself up and with the last of his remaining strength he reached the water’s edge.
Kneeling by the shoreline he took out the torn photograph. ‘I made it,’ he told the boy. Drinking in the wonder of the ocean, he laughed in delight as the waves broke over him the spray splashing his face and watched in happiness as the sunset over the sea.
‘Look Daddy!’ shouted the small boy with blond hair. ‘There’s a man!’ He ran along the beach towards the kneeling figure.
‘Careful Charles,’ called his father running after him. ‘Let me check first.’
Coming up behind his son he looked at Mac, whose missing eye and arm bent in an im-possible position would have given him a frightening appearance if not for the look of contentment on his face.
‘It’s one of those humanoids from Auto City,’ said his father.
Leaning down, he read ‘Male Automated Cleaner’ on the pocket of the overall Mac wore. Prising the torn photograph from his hand he stared in amazement at the image of a boy who looked so much like his own son.
‘Time to go,’ he said, turning to Charles. ‘We need to return to the village before nightfall.’ ‘What about him?’ Charles pointed to Mac. ‘Can we take him home with us?’
‘He is a damaged unit, battery depleted,’ replied his father. ‘I’II come back tomorrow with one of the elders and see what we can salvage for spare parts.’