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The glorious sun lifted through the horizon, making sure it was known by everyone in the neighborhood. Rays of liquid sunshine spit through the windows of the sleepy town off the coast of natural land. Major waves kissed the edge of the quarry before sloshing back to great depths, leaving fluffy froth in its path. Slimy, writhing fish flopped helplessly in search of their lifeboat, struggling to extend their lives just a little bit further. Sun rays reflected off of the glassy exterior of recently deceased aquatic animals, making rainbow patterns in the air Mai Island would soon be awakening to enjoy the spectacular morning array before them. As for Ayanna, she would be packing her heavyweight carry-ons in anguish and defeat. The celebratory ceremonies of the morning would elude her, as she would be leaving the beholder of memories and ghostly spirits of her past. 

After shoving the last piece of clothing in the plastic carry-on, Ayanna toted it to the large moving van parked outside her tropical abode. Bringing slender hands to her sunkissed face, wiping away liquid sadness, Ayanna walked back into her house, doing a quick look over making sure she didn't leave anything forgotten. As Ayanna roamed through each room of the house, she saw remnants of her life, moving around like ghosts. Standing in the room, considered the keeper of dreams, she saw young Ayanna on Christmas day, white earbuds dangling from both ears, iPod Shuffle in hand. The music blasting from the device, she remembered, was the latest Christmas song of the year, played on repeat until she got bored. Hands waving in the air and dancing wildly mimicking the moves of dancers on tv. Small drips of water awakened Ayanna to the present, and she made her way to the bathroom to turn off the leaky faucet to no avail. No matter how many times she adjusted the handle, the sink would always leak. Ayanna smiled at the same leak in the sink, thinking to herself I won't be stuck with you anymore. The small memories wafting through the house like strong aromas of the past are what pushed her through the sorrowful move. Sitting on the porcelain bowl teenage Ayanna looked down in her undergarments to notice huge splotches of blood. Looking around the room frightful, she screamed for her mother who came rushing to her aide. Chuckling lightly, now knowing the cycles of life, Ayanna moved on to the next room. Swirling in the kitchen with much grace and light, Ayanna's ghostly mother danced to Islander music, a rubber pink spoon in hand, dripping light batter onto the floor. Ayanna could still hear the bark as Toto, the old Shepard, sprinted from his perch to lap up the circles of delectable food settling to the floor. Turning her back to the kitchen, Ayanna now faced the living room, where her family shared in watching family favorite movies, laughing and indulging in the emotions the fake characters shared. Suddenly in the once forbidden zone for children, Ayanna arrived in her parent's room where her father poured over websites and websites of glorious houses in the city, leaving the house quiet for hours at a time. The moving truck loomed with great depression shadowing the brightest moments of Ayanna's life. 

With heavy strides, she made her way to the front yard, finding a group of familiar people waiting and watching. ?Hey guys,? Ayanna smiled weakly. The 4 teens, similar in age, bombarded Ayanna with hugs of encouragement. Turning towards the now empty house, Ayanna quickly wiped spilling tears with the back of her hand. ?I'm going to miss you guys,? was broken up into pieces as gasping sobs broke through each word. The angsty teens lost for words walked to each side of Ayanna and grasped her hands. They formed into a tight circle, putting their heads together and muttering words of endearments and encouragement. ?It's going to be okay,? reassured one of the teens. The onlooking parents of Ayanna couldn't help but slip a few tears themselves, watching the group of best friends as one of the members was torn apart from them. ?Girls, I thought since we have to make several drives Ayanna could stay here for the rest of the day. You guys are going to need the time together after the move,? Ayanna's mother smiled weakly. ?Really,? gasped the group in unison, eyes brightening just a little. Ayanna's mom gave a confirming nod, the group ran in the direction of the town, sprinting to squeeze in a couple more memories before they would cease altogether. 

The disheveled group of distraught teens looked up at their favorite restaurant on the whole island. Lost At Sea beamed bright tropical colors making known to everyone in the flanking towns. Ayanna walked in first, her friends following, as the smells of the local restaurant took over her. Not only did the smells dizzy her but the idea of not being able to come back and make continuing memories weakened Ayanna Picking a window seat, the group pondered over the menu, aiming to order something extra special for the last visitation period. ?What can I get for you regulars,? laughed the waiter who bore a name tag reading Claire. ?Well Claire, our friend here is moving away and we need an extra special dinner to share,? sympathetically stated one of the teens. ?Awe, I'm so sorry to hear that. I will have the chefs in the back make a very special chef's dinner. On the house,? granted Claire. ?Oh you don't have to,? interjected Ayanna. Waving a slender hand, Claire made her way back to the front desk. ?So I was thinking while we wait, we should describe in great detail our favorite memories from the past several years, instead of moping around and wrestling with the notion that Ayanna is going away,? a teen beamed. ?Oh, that's a great idea, Emily,? burst a black-haired teen. 

The friends then began to reminisce about the better times. Various topics ranging from the meeting and forming of the friendship group to laughs and rumors spread about boys and relationships. Hours slowly began to tick by, hour by hour plates getting emptied and glasses getting refilled by the minute. Claire broke into their fun once more bringing upon the commonly asked question regarding the dessert. ?That sounds amazing,? Emily broke through the noise. With a smile, Claire returned once more to the front quarters. ?I still can't believe you're leaving RoseWater. The school is definitely going to miss you. I just don't understand why you can't just live out your last year of high school,? Emily frowned. Ayanna shrugged before thanking Claire for the dessert. The whole group began to salivate at the sight of cherry pie alamode, ignoring their stomach full of tropical foods. The smell of freshly baked cherries blessed the noses of the group. The pure vanilla ice cream dripped on the sides when Ayanna cut a small sliver. The group resumed chatter, ignoring the dwindling time, slowly vanishing before their eyes.

The glorious sun inched near but not past the horizon, ending the constant chatter of saddened teens. The group left Lost At Sea with full stomachs and empty hearts, feeling a deeper shade of sadness than when they had arrived. The group had decided they would take a nightly stroll on the beach and watch as the sky took on different colors. The friends left in the directions of their house but returning to the white sandy beaches of Mai. 

When arriving at the edge of the water, Ayanna looked out past the low tide admiring the sounds of sea creatures. The wind ruffled her hair, whispering terms of unknown secrets through her mind. As Ayanna waited for everyone to return, she laid down the beach blanket with shells decorating the corners and smoothed the cloth as best as she could. After sitting and admiring the waning sun, the rest of the inseparable group returned. Ayanna realized each person carried some sort of item varying in size. Emily was holding a strand of lights, which Ayanna knew would be set up around the group, illuminating the darkness. ?We all prepared a little something for you. A parting gift if you will, so before you interject each of us is going to hand you our handmade items and you will open them,? smiled Emily. ?I guess I will start,? Emily added. A brown sack was handed over to Ayanna which she picked up gingerly. When the 2 sides of the bag were peeled back 5 bracelets were settled in the bottom. Each one a different and unique color, they bore the combined initials of the group, along with tropical materials and decorations clung to the woven pieces of art. ?I got us all one so that you, and whenever we have to part ways with the island, we will be able to take a piece of each other with us,? cheekily smiled Emily. ?Oh my gosh, I love these. This is never leaving my wrist,? Ayanna gushed. ?Go ahead and choose one,? instructed Emily. Picking the prettiest of the 5 Ayanna handed it over to Emily who connected the 2 ends of the bracelet around Ayanna's slender wrist. Without having to ask Ayanna passed the rest of the bracelets amongst the group, each one admiring the craftsmanship. The black-haired girl yielded a singular book, with beautiful calligraphy and art on the front. After receiving the book Ayana read the penmanship carefully digesting each word. In the following pages of this book, I have pictures we have taken throughout our adventures together. This book is so you will never forget the standing and long-lasting memories we all have shared, Love Lillian. Ayanna flipped through the book eagerly tenderly touching each page. When reaching the last plastic page of the album, Ayanna looked at Lillian, ?Thank you so much. I will be carrying this with me every place I go.? The blond-haired girl in the group came forth with a small plastic container, holding some of Ayanna's favorite foods from her favorite restaurants. ?How did you even manage to get different restaurants to do this,? laughed Ayanna. ?They made an exception,? laughed Maria, the blonde. Ayanna moved to the last present with contempt and overwhelming happiness. Ayanna's eyes peered upon a beautiful array of different pictures, arranged with great care among a corkboard. Etched on the top board was a quote from the movie Up, ?Adventure is out there?. ?You know I love that movie,? Ayanna smiled. The friends huddled close together, the heat of their bodies mixing together. 

Without uttering any more words, the teens sat in a row, each individual watched as the remnants of the sun disappeared beneath the surface. Hues of red and orange encircled the ocean, turning it pink instead of blue. Everyone admired the colors and the spectacle unfolding before them. The light was quickly snuffed out, by the grim reaper known as mom. Ayanna's mother tapped her on the shoulder, whispering 4 words in her ear, shattering her sense of security, ?It's time to go.? A feeling of dread dropped through Ayanna's body at the realization and weight of the problem at hand. The group of teens gathered around Ayanna once more, and the family walked to the lone car in the lot, presents in hand. After stowing the gifts in the car, Ayanna turned to a group of waving people. Ayanna raised a hand in response and climbed into the car. Ayanna watched, as her closest companions disappeared further and further into the distance. Out of sight forever. Looking forward to the road leading to her future, a single tear fell, confirming a continuous waterfall was to be expected.

Of all the things Beom thought she would be doing on harvest day, sitting on her heels before the village chief and the council of elders was definitely not one of them. After hours of listening to him ramble on about nothing, the urge to interrupt was overwhelming. Looking past the Chief, she could see the endless stretch of blue through a crack in the woven wall. Tuning out the grumble of voices, she could hear faint sounds of drums and smell the spiced rum in the air.

Fiddling with her bracelets, she could still feel the salt on her skin from the dive she had taken that morning. She had intended to wash off, but before she could make it back to her rooms, the royal guard had come to collect her. Biting her lip, she contemplated walking out or rolling into the ocean ingress. Intended to facilitate the merfolk to join in their meetings or parties, it would add a bit of flair to her exit, but then again, they'd just haul her back. There weren't many places to go when your village was built on the ocean, miles away from land. Not to mention that she was the headhunter and the most skilled fighter in the village?they wouldn't let her go. Pulling at a dried scab on her palm, she redirected her attention to the babbling Chief, who was now purple in the face.

?Chief, as I said before, something is killing the fish and destroying the reef. Our haul has been shrinking for months, our nets empty for a week! We cannot live off the garden alone," she said. Rolling her shoulders back, she levelled his glare with her own. It wasn't like she could spontaneously create fish out of thin air. She wasn't a water god or spirit. She was just a hunter.

The Chief scrunched up his nose, crossing his arms over his fat belly. ?What are we supposed to do?starve? You need to??

??Something is wrong.?

"Fix it! Go to the other side of the island and set new traps there. Do something Do anything.?

"You're not listening! We have set traps. Around the entire island, and yet here we are. Empty nets. Empty traps.?

?Then we move to land.?

?No,? she shot back. ?Hunting on the island hadn't been an option for centuries. Most of the vegetation is poisonous.? Not to mention that the edible vegetation was sparse. This was why they were growing all of their vegetables on a floating garden with the rainwater they collected. The only thing they took from the land was lumber and bamboo to build with.

?Yes! If you cannot find more fish, then we'll start hunting on the island.? The Chief bellowed, guesting for one of his councillors to his side. He was going to give the order to assemble a hunting party. ?We will not starve!?

Looking up at the carved beams of the room, she noted the small motifs of the gods and demi-gods that had once walked amongst them. Particularly Ame No Mi Kumari, their mother goddess. Their protector and provider, she could heal wounds, summon fish, and calm stormy seas; she was the most powerful of the water gods.

"Wait!" she yelled. Standing from her stiff position on the smooth wooden floor, she was eye level with the seated Chief. "What if we repent to the water gods? Ask for guidance?for forgiveness? It's been almost a thousand years. Maybe they'll forgive us." Silence fell over the courtroom, the Chief's face reddening with every second. Beom could feel blood pool in her palm, a ripped scab in between her fingers. Pressing her palms together, she was suddenly very aware of the insult she had made.

Ove a thousand years ago, the gods had drowned a demi-god named Hak, the Chief's distant ancestor, and in their grief, the people raged war against the gods. Refusing to pray or acknowledge the gods. The feud bubbled into a decade long battle that resulted in the people fleeing the island of Nakada to Kenro. It was only through bedtime stories, old carvings and hushed whispers that she had even known about the war or the magic that the gods had taken back from them. Although, to be fair, while no one in the village had magic, it was still forbidden to mention the gods.

?No! Hak did nothing wrong. It was them?they who fired the first shot. They drowned that poor boy for what? Nothing. They drowned him for nothing because he did nothing wrong.?

?But??

?The elders say that this will pass, so give it some time. For now, we'll focus on setting up a hunting party and on the gardens. I hear the taro is doing very well these days. Maybe it will win the best prize this year?" Standing, the Chief signalled for the guards to tie back the curtains, flooding the space with noontime sun. Turning his back to her, he motioned for the council to follow him as he walked out the room, throwing a disapproving glare at her. ?We will reconvene tomorrow.?

Slamming the door of her chambers shut, Beom cured the Chief's name. Loud enough so that the guards stationed at her door could hear. Arrogance. That would be the undoing of Kenro. Crossing the small living space, she flung open the lanai door and stormed onto the wooden deck. His inaction might just kill us all, she thought sullenly. Grabbing a clay pot, she smashed it to the ground. The impact scattered splinters of clay across the smooth surface.

Blinking the tears out of her eyes, she surveyed the shards of clay around her feet. Bending to collect the pieces, she felt her palm grow wet before she saw the bright red blood that dripped down her fingers. Damn it! Wrapping her palm in a loose piece of her skirt, she watched patches of scarlet blossom on the cream-coloured fabric. After a few minutes of holding pressure, she peeled the fabric back. She stared disapprovingly at the sticky mess. The cut wasn't deep, but it was still bleeding.

Returning pressure back to her hand, an idea came careening into her head. She could go. She could go to Nakada and beg the water Goddess Ame No Mi Kumari for forgiveness. It was crazy, but what else was she supposed to do? Sit and wait for things to get better?

The world then tilted on its side, as a breeze raked through her braided hair, pulling at her ear, it whispered something to her, as if in answer. Ho'oponopono, make right.

After bandaging her hand and sweeping up the clay, Beom started to pack her boat with supplies. Docked just off her lanai, she hurriedly packed a few rations of food, some rope, and her cutlass. Strapping a sacred whale tooth knife to her thigh, she prayed that it would be enough. After all, the knife was said to have been made by the god Hironaka, master of weapons. Sitting on the lanai and waited for the night sky to fall.

Bathed in the moonlight with nothing but an abyss of stars as her map, Beom sailed her boat eastwards through the serpent's pass. An archipelago of rocky islands and sparse foliage, the islands were said to have been cursed. Passing the occasional shimmering water spirit in the dark, she was warry of their cavernous eyes and curved lips but what scared her most were the odd ripples of water that rose out of the water without warning. She had been told bedtime stories about the First Gods and the leviathans that haunted the serpents pass; she just didn't think she'd ever see one.

Still swathed in the night, Beom shot up from her place at the rudder when a wall of mist started rolling towards her. She had just cleared the serpent's pass, which meant that she should see the great mountains of Nakada, but this, this wall of mist shouldn't be here. It was the wrong time of the year; the night was too warm.

Adjusting the sails, she took in a deep breath, letting the air settle into her lungs. She needed to stay calm. The moment the bow pierced the mist, the hull began to shake. Her supplies banged around violently. Her lungs caved in. What was happening? Trying to steer the boat into another direction, Boem was sucked into the ominous mist, encasing her in shadows darker than night.

The sound of leathery wings and screams sounded in the distance. Gnashing of teeth and the snapping of bone rattled through the air. She reached for a bone knife, but before she could grab the hilt, it flew out of its sheath into the darkness. Beom pressed her back against the mast. She could barely hear the distant roars against the pounding of her heart. Horror leapt up to her throat as invisible hands plucked her from the small boat, baptizing her in shadow.

The wind lashed against her skin with a vengeance as the fog melted away.

Blinking sharply, she felt her sense of gravity shift because Nakada wasn't the lush island full of rolling hills and white sand as she had been lead to believe. Instead, she saw an island covered in ash and a shore of obsidian sand. Blinking the mist out of her eyes, she saw flames devouring a hilltop. Embers and soot rained down from above. What happened here?

Suspended in the air, she looked down. Fighting against the invisible bonds, she heard a hiss, followed by bubbling. Oh, gods. Something was bubbling below her. With the shore still, miles away, and her arms pinned to her side, she felt her screams etch themselves into her throat, her voiceless cries threatening to choke her.

She was being silenced. Someone was silencing her.

Splinters of light erupted from the murky water, first a roiling ball of water that morphed into?into Ame No Mi Kumari. Her body flickered to life before Beom's eyes. She towered above her. A crown of pearls sat atop her head, with iridescent skin and milky eyes to match. She looked at every ounce of a goddess.

?Ame No Mi Kumari," she whispered, this time not as a call but in disbelief. ?Ame No Mi Kumari, I've come to repent." Invoking any of their names was heresy, but she didn't care. So what if irreverence stained her teeth and marred her tongue? She was desperate.

?You have come to die,? the goddess roared.

Beom gathered all the fire within her and pressed on, ?I have come to apologize for my people?for our past.?

?No!?

?Yes, and you will hear me out.?

"Who are you to demand such a favour?how dare you ask such a thing." Her words sent shock waves through the air.

?Ame No Mi Kumari,? she stuttered, ?I have come to repent on behalf of my people. To apologize for the insurmountable grief that we inflicted on you and your people all those centuries ago." Daring a glance, Beom looked into the void of Ame No Mi Kumari's eyes, dipping her head slightly, ?I have come to make things right. Ho'oponopono.?

The goddess's eyes flared wide as she seized Beom out of the air, fingers curling around her body. ?Grief? You know nothing of the word. I have lived for millennia, and I will outlive even the brightest star. Your existence is fleeting.?

?Yes, but that is exactly what makes it valuable," she shot back. "Every minute that passes by is one less that we cannot get back. But you know what, that's what makes life precious. This is why I have come. To apologize. Please, people, are dying. They are suffering. They need your help. They need you.?

"What makes you think an apology could soothe the damage that has been done? The lives that have been lost?"

?It can't. But we were your children??

?And look at what it cost us?cost me. It cost us everything,? she gestured to the wasteland around them. ?I lost everything.?

Looking into the void of her eyes, the stillness of her gaze cracked her heart. ?Please,? she begged. ?I will do anything.?

A wicked smiled curled across the water goddess's face to reveal a row of sharp teeth, "Is that so."

With a replay poised on her tongue, Beom was ready to barter for her life for people when Ame No Mi Kumari plunged her fist into the black sea.

The sudden impact knocked the breath out of Beom's lungs. Thrashing in the goddess's grip, the sting of salt made her eyes burn, and her lungs ache. A small eternity passed by as the light seeped out of her body. The goddess was too strong. Too old. Too unforgiving. She was a woman with ire in her veins and cruelty in her heart, but so was Boem.

With the last kernel of strength, she focused on her roaring heartbeat. Forcing her limbs to go limp.

Slowly the goddess uncurled her fingers, releasing Beom.

Floating to the surface, she rolled to her back, careful not to make a sound. Her lungs greedily drinking in the air. Tentatively opening an eye, she searched for her bone knife, eventually finding it in the sand a few feet away. Glancing around, she saw that Ame No Mi Kumari now stood on the beach. Her back was turned to her. Arms wide and belly up, she allowed the waves to push her to the shore. The soft thump of sand against her head was all she needed. The knife was within reach Taking in a few deep breaths, she reached out her hand, gripping the knife with bruised fingers. If she refused to listen, to save her children, to save Beom, she would just have to save them herself. She would steal the goddess's power.

Rising to her feet, Boem sprinted towards the goddess. Digging her feet into the sand, her legs carried her faster than she thought possible. Jumping on a nearby rock, she propelled herself upward. The carved bone gleamed in the fiery light.

Plunging the knife into the goddess's back, Beom heard a scream so raw and feral that if she hadn't been the one to strike, she would have been petrified; but she wouldn't be the prey. Nor would she be the villain. She was simply another beast, cold and cruel. Hungry for blood. Ichor spilt down her wrists and elbows, staining her clothes gold. Stumbling forward, the goddess fell to her knees, but still, Beom held on. Twisting the blade, she savoured her screams until the goddess began to shake.

Pulling the blade from her back, Beom jumped back onto the sand, watching the goddess shrink to mortal size. Now not much bigger than herself. Ame No Mi Kumari now lay face first in the black sand. Rolling her over with the tip of her foot, she watched the goddess begin to choke. Unleashing a smile, she pressed one knee into the goddess's chest, using her free hand to wipe away a stray lock of hair from her bloodied face.

?You know I came here in the name of peace, but what good are gods who refuse to help their people? What good are you?? She asked; her tone matched the ice in her veins.

Now spitting up ichor Ame No Mi Kumari reached a hand towards the water. Summoning a drop of water, she hurled it down Beom's throat. "You fool," she coughed, "you have just cursed yourself."

What? At a loss for words, Beom pressed her blade to the goddess's throat, hard enough to draw a drop of ichor, but not enough to slit her throat. From the threat in her eyes, the question was clear, explain.

"You cannot kill a monster and not become one yourself. It goes against the very fibre of nature. The same rule applies to power?to immortality. How do you kill a god?"

?You become one,? she whispered. Beom was going to be sick. The stories never said anything about this. Her face was numb. Immortality wasn't living forever; it was watching the people around you die. It was standing in a garden of the most captivating flora, knowing that they will die, but loving them anyway. It was a curse to walk the earth alone.

?Yes.?

The smile fell off her face. All of the anger fizzled in her veins. Dropping the knife, her body went limp. A brutal breeze blew in from the ocean, clearing away the thick wall of shadows and mist that shrouded Nakada. Sunlight flooded the beach. The once black water turned cerulean and clear. Whipping her head to the mountains, she saw the volcano settle, the lurid tower of smoke melted into the ivory clouds. Yet the black sand remained, and the ashen hills endured.

Wobbling slightly, something inside Beom began to quake. Looking back at Ame No Mi Kumari, she saw her now crooked hands grab onto her wrists, her grip iron clad Ichor snaked up her arms and sunk into her skin, leaving behind gilded swirls on her skin. The new patterns glowed in the sunlight. Shielding her eyes from the light, she felt the weight below her give out. Looking at her shaking hands, she saw that the gashes in them were now healed. The skin over her palms smooth. Another wave of light exploded around here. What had she done?

After the flash faded, she was greeted with a puddle of water.

An immortal no more.

The remnants of the goddess seeped into the black sand as if she were only ever water?and maybe she was. Maybe that was her first form? The stories always said the gods came from the sea They never said what they were made of.

With shaky knees, she rose to her feet and walked into the ocean.

She had been remade. Transformed.

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The speedboat rounded a bend in the tunnel, roaring into view on a V-shaped feather of spray. Number 10 stood ready, mask in place, gun in hand. Number Three, black-clad, wind-swept, expertly piloted the Sea Hawk 285 toward the dock, using bursts of throttle to maneuver. They were about 20 feet beneath the Canal Saint-Martin in Paris; slanting shafts of sunlight cast yellow circles on the choppy waves. Number 10 had to wonder how much bat guano and other noxious material he'd inhaled since arriving here five minutes ago, barely ahead of Number Three and their special guest.

They secured the nose of the craft to a piling. Number Three exuded his usual cool. His handsome face was partially obscured by a plain gray mask, its black loops hooked around his small pink ears. His eyes twinkled in lieu of that killer smile.

?We made it,? pronounced Number Three, his voice small and tight in the confines of the watery trench. Somehow, despite the gloom of their surroundings, his skin shone radiantly. If this were a movie, Number 10 decided his boss would be played by the biggest star in the world, none other than ?

?Hey, guys,? called out Number Seven. She was a stunning, statuesque blonde, who looked as impressive in a skin-tight black ninja suit as she did in business attire. Number 10 glanced over his shoulder, squinting to pinpoint her voice. ?Got some news for you,? she called, urgently waving her mobile phone.

?Not now,? said Number Three, turning to the boat. Flat on the aluminum deck, clad in prisoner orange, with a heavy canvas sack on his head, was the most dangerous terrorist in the world, Paul Hewson. Hewson had been en route to prison when his police convoy was interrupted by Number Three and the rest of the MI6 crew. Using smoke and lots of rubber bullets, they had managed to wrest Hewson away from the police and down here into the catacombs. Now Hewson stirred, his arms and legs bound.

?It's kinda important,? sang out Number Seven.

?So is this,? replied Number Three. He and Number 10 managed to wrestle Hewson onto the dock, with the terrorist providing little in the way of assistance.

They stood over their prey, victorious. Number Seven sauntered over, still wagging her mobile.

?Don't you want to know?? she asked. Number Three grinned up at her ? or, at least, Number 10 pictured him grinning. His mask twitched, anyway.

?Alright," panted Number Three, resting his hands on his hips. ?What is it??

Number Seven reached up and, without fanfare, removed her mask, exposing her lovely chin, lips and teeth. Number 10 startled; he'd forgotten about those lovely white choppers, her pink gums and knife-edged jaw.

?Oh, my God!? he cried. ?What are you doing? There's a pandemic!?

?Not anymore,? said Number Seven, grinning at each of them. ?Pandemic's been lifted. It just came across the BBC.?

Number 10 saw that Number Three was now frowning. ?Bullshit,? barked Number Three, his shoulders tensing.

?No bullshit,? said Number Seven, tossing her mask into the water. ?Paris mayor, French president and our own bloody PM have declared an end to the emergency. Breaking news.?

Number 10 chuckled. ?I don't believe it.?

?Check your phone,? challenged Number Seven. ?It's all over the place.?

She took a step toward them and both men flinched. ?Social distancing!? cried Number Three.

?For God's sake,? replied Number Seven. ?Have we even paid attention to social distancing for the past month? We've all been in close contact with each other. Besides, we've gotten our shots. It's fine.?

Number Three squinted, as if the air had filled with smoke. ?I don't understand,? he said through his mask, ?who lifted the orders??

?The blokes I just rattled off. Isn't that official enough??

?What gives them the right to do that??

?I imagine they're acting on the advice of the health authorities.?

Number 10 piped up, phone in hand. ?It's breaking now. The UK and EU have agreed to lift the emergency, with the US soon to follow. No more masks!?

He stared at Number Three, who had yet to move.

?I don't like it,? declared Number Three.

?What's not to like, mate??

?What if the virus is still out there? We can't take that chance.?

Number Seven frowned. ?Did you catch a blow to the head? You feeling alright??

?What if it's misinformation??

?Erm, what??

Number Three clenched his fists. ?We're down here,? he said, indicating the sweaty brick walls. ?Hewson has friends up there. We know they control certain media outlets and communication satellites. What if they're trying to expose us to the virus??

?But we got our jabs!?

?I've only had the first dose,? said Number Three, his voice brittle. ?What about you??

His friends traded sheepish looks. ?Well,? said Seven, ?if I'm being completely honest ? I've not had the second dose. Not yet.?

Number 10 nodded. ?Same.?

?Oh, Christ,? said Number Three. ?Then we're not all 100-percent protected!?

?Eighty percent is better than none,? snapped 10, realizing Three didn't take well to snapping. ?What I mean is, we should be fine.?

The blue eyes of their leader grew cold. ?Should be fine? Should be fine? Is that how this crew operates??

?Easy, mate,? said Number Seven, ?what Ten's trying to say ??

?I know what he's trying to say,? interrupted Three. ?Same thing you are. He's saying we should relax our guard because of something you saw on the Internet. But it doesn't work that way. Or, it shouldn't.?

?Alright,? interjected Number 10, ?now you're sounding paranoid.?

?Look, nothing you've said convinces me this isn't some trick Hewson's trying to pull,? said Number Three, all but dancing up and down. ?We can't allow anything we see or hear to interfere with our objective, which is getting this sack of shit back to London.?

?We can do that, mate,? said Number Ten, ?only minus the face coverings and social distancing!?

Brow furrowed, Number Three pulled a tube of sanitizer from his pocket and squeezed a dollop onto his fingers. He proffered the container. ?I suggest you guys use this,? he said. ?And, Seven, I hope you've got another mask. You're gonna need it.?

She arched her brows. ?I'm not wearing it, and I've not touched any contaminated surfaces. Stuff the sanitizer, mate.?

Number 10 nodded. ?I've used so much of that junk I'm probably immune by now. We're going to have to trust the media on this one.?

?THE MEDIA IS UNDER HEWSON'S CONTROL,? roared Three. ?NOW SOAP UP!?

?But we've smashed Hewson's gang,? protested Seven. ?We broke up his troll farm. Twitter froze his account. He is incommunicado. Ask him!?

Three glared down at Hewson, who hadn't spoken or moved. Was the terrorist listening in, grinning inside that hood?

He prodded Hewson. ?How about it, Paul??

?It's true,? said Hewson. ?Twitter shut me down.?

?What about all this other talk??

?No idea. It isn't me. Must be the real thing.?

Ten and Seven stared expectantly at Three, who was all but hyperventilating. ?I'd expect him to say that,? he informed them. ?We must err on the side of caution.?

?But that's silly,? said Hewson. ?You're so addicted to the safety protocols that you can't let go of them. Think about it ? why would all those officials say something that wasn't true? Or, why would my organization ? now defunct, thanks to you ? seize control of a comm sat just to send false information to her phone??

?Why, indeed?? asked 10.

?Shut up,? snapped Three. ?This guy killed 40 people in a car bombing.?

?Look, it's only logical,? replied Hewson. ?Why would the mayor of Paris lie? I don't know the man, but I doubt he'd cause a panic.?

Three stomped on Hewson as if he were squashing a bug. ?Point taken,? Hewson wheezed.

?Listen,? Three said to his subordinates, ?we're gonna continue following protocol. We're gonna wash our hands, wear our face coverings, and social distance, as we have done all year. We can't assume life has gone back to normal. Let's complete our mission and go from there.?

Ten abruptly chucked his mask. ?No,? he said firmly. ?You can be stubborn, but we've got to put this behind us sometime. This is it.?

Three blinked stupidly. ?That's ? that's your lifeline! I only have one backup mask and it's for me!?

Ten shrugged. ?Let's haul Hewson to the surface and catch our plane,? he said, reaching for their hog-tied prisoner.

?No,? cried Three, shoving 10 aside. ?I can't let you do it!?

He seized Hewson around the waist and pitched him into the bow. In a flash, he had the boat unmoored.

Seven stepped toward him, eyes wide. ?What are you doing??

?I can't risk it!? exclaimed Three, leaping behind the controls. He threw the lever into forward gear. White foam churned beneath the outboard. ?I'm taking him to a secure site!?

?No, Three!? yelled 10 as the boat roared away from the dock. Seven held him back, preventing him from leaping in after it.

?Let them go,? she said, gripping her friend's shoulders. Number Three executed a perfect U-turn in the midst of the tunnel, slinging water on his companions. She caught a glimpse of Hewson, sliding around on the deck like a fish. Then the boat accelerated and was gone.

?What an idiot,? she said, puffing hair out of her face. ?What a goddamned idiot.?

The lockdown had started over fifteen years ago and it showed no signs of abating. Well, that is how it seemed for Luna who had been forced to hide in an underground bunker with her family and best friend. Luna had been in Canada when disaster struck. Canada, the land of the hopeful, the last safe haven. Her father, a virologist, had known about the virus all along, but our of fear for keeping his family safe, he had chosen not to tell anyone. Until it was too late.

The year 2135 AD had proven uneventful. As uneventful as it could be considering that the earth had become overpopulated, famine had spread across the globe, the ozone was almost depleted, and the icebergs had all but melted. With the melted icebergs came the viruses along with viral strains that had never been seen before and no cures were ready to combat them. By the time scientists had noticed what was happening, it was too late. Exactly like what had happened in 2020 with COVID-19.

Canada was one of the last countries to be deeply affected by the virus. When the virus was given a name, V-KA (virus kill all), over five million people had died of it, and that was just the beginning. Airports shut down, cities too, until countries closed off their borders and no one was allowed to roam the streets. Martial law was declared in every country and countless more people died. The thing that terrified people was not the fact that millions died, rather it was the fact that the survivors of V-KA were changed; physically as well as mentally. Government officials tried to hide it, but once social media got hold of evidence, it was also too late for the governments. Coup d'états occurred everywhere until total anarchy reigned everywhere.

With Luna's father having access to secret information that the general population would not know, her, her family, and Evan, her childhood friend, were taken to an underground bunker that they could live in until the situation in the outside world had calmed down. It hadn't. A couple days after being isolated from the rest of the world, the news had broadcasted that the anarchists had gotten hold of the nuclear weapons and had launched many of them to all superpowers, meaning the United Kingdom, South Korea, China, and Brazil.

That was the end of Luna's life as she knew it, as well as the end of her parent's life. On hearing the news about the nuclear weapons, her parents had left the bunker in the hopes of saving at least a few innocent souls. They hadn't come back. At ten years old, Luna and Evan were thrown into a situation that was out of their control and with it came the responsibility of taking care of each other. They had done so. Over fifteen years they had grown very close to each, in more ways than one, and they knew everything about the other.

With the nuclear weapons striking the planet, the news broadcasting systems had been completely destroyed, and only radios remained as the source to get news. The bunker proved to be very large upon searching through it. It contained three levels. The first level, the lowest, was where all of the machinery needed for the bunker to be livable where located. These included oxygen vents, clean water, and a waste disposal system. The second level had a garden where food could be grown, the living quarters, washing areas, and a living/study room. The uppermost floor, which was the smallest of them only contained a small room with a door that led to the outside world. Rules were quickly made between Evan and Luna, but the most important was to never open the door, unless it was an emergency. That rule had been followed for fear of seeing what the earth had become.

Fifteen years had passed since the two friends had been locked. Now at twenty-five years old, they were rethinking their future based on the resources they had available to them.

?Evan!? Yelled Luna. ?Come here. I think there's a problem with the garden.?

Running from his room to the gardening area, Evan was greeted with Luna looking in horror at the dead leaves of the garden and the rotten vegetables.

?What happened, Luna??

?I don't know. I just came in to do my daily visit and I found this. Do you think there's a problem with the oxygen vents??

?Stay here. I'll go check,? said Evan, before leaving in a hurry and jumping down one floor. Upon reaching the oxygen vents, Evan found that nothing was out of the ordinary, except that the machinery was getting old and no replacements could be found for the old parts.

Running back upstairs Evan found Luna in the same place he had left her. Coming up behind her and placing his hands on her shoulders he whispered in her left ear, ?Don't worry, Luna. Nothing's wrong with the oxygen vents. They are just getting old and shouldn't be working as hard as they should.?

Turning around to face him and putting her hands in his, Luna said, ?Is there anything that we can do to take off the pressure??

?There is actually. We can turn off the oxygen on the first floor and close off rooms that we don't use.?

?Let's do that then. This bunker wasn't designed for us to stay here for fifteen years. We have to make it last as long as possible. At least we won't go down without at least doing something.?

Luna and Evan made quick work of what was required of them and they were soon done with the task.

?How much time do you think we have bought ourselves?? Luna asked, sitting in the living room.

?Not much, I daresay,? responded Evan. ?You know that we don't have much longer. Probably a couple weeks at best.?

?I know we don't have much longer. I know. I'm just afraid of what we will find out there. The last reports we received from the radio talked about mutated creatures and humans roaming the land. And what if the air is still poisonous after the nuclear weapons?? By the time Luna had finished speaking, she was hyperventilating and Evan was holding her against him.

?Don't worry, love. These are just things that we will have to take care of when the time comes. Don't worry. We will face it together.?

? I know we will. It's just scary to think about what's outside considering how long we have been locked away.?

?Good. Then that's all you need to worry about. You know that I will take care of you. I always have and always will. Go to sleep now. I'll be there when you wake up.?

?You promise??

?I promise.?

Luna shortly fell asleep against Evan. Bringing her to their bed, Evan covered Luna's small body with a blanket, and left the room to get ready for what lay ahead of them. He had not lied to Luna; the oxygen vents were old and there wasn't much they could do about them. However, he hadn't told her that air from the outside had found a way inside the bunker. At the rate that the air was coming inside the bunker, keeping in mind that it was probably poisonous, it would only be a few days before Luna and Evan would asphyxiate.

Heading to the storage room, Evan grabbed two hiking bags, opened them, and started filling them up with materials that they would need for their impossible journey if they made it out alive. Ropes, weapons, water, and dried food were quickly put into the bags, as well as some fresh food that could be eaten in the upcoming days. Fumbling with the straps of the bags, he hadn't noticed Luna creeping up behind him. Only her voice startled him out of his thoughts.

?What are you doing?? She whispered to him.

?Um? well, I was going to tell you, but um? we have to leave.?

?What do you mean we have to leave? Didn't you say it was safe for us to stay in the bunker for a little while longer. What changed? Have you decided to leave without me??

Dumfounded, Evan could only tell the truth, ?No, I am not leaving without you. I did not want to tell you yet because I didn't want to worry you for any longer than necessary.?

Stepping forward, Luna said in a quiet voice, ?You don't get to decide what is good for me. We do this together, not separately. Why do we have to leave though??

?Earlier when I went to check to oxygen vents, I found out that air from outside was leaking in. I thought that I would start getting things ready for us.?

?Okay, I completely understand the situation we are in. You should have just told me. So? when do we leave??

Evan took a deep breath, and answered, ?Tomorrow morning would be best.'

?Then come to bed with me. We'll figure it out tomorrow.?

Luna led Evan back to their room where they both slept a restless night imagining all of the worst scenarios that could occur the next day. So many things could go wrong, and the worst that could happen would be both of them dying to the environment.

The next morning was as stressful as both of them thought it would be. The breakfast they ate tasted like ashes and felt like rubber in their mouths. In what seemed like no time at all, both of them were ready with their bags and some oxygen masks that Luna had found while rummaging through the storage room.

?They might not work, but it's better to try, isn't??

With the masks in place, Evan and Luna walked up to the uppermost floor, stood in front of the door and waited.

?Are you sure you want to do this?? Evan asked.

?What other choice do we have? We would have had to leave the bunker soon anyway. It's better to do it on our own terms.?

?You're right. We don't really have another choice. Let's do this, shall we??

?I love you,? Luna murmured.

?I love you, too,? Evan responded, while gripping her hand.

Pushing against the opening button, oxygen slowly left the room as the door opened, revealing the outside world. What awaited left them breathless; the land surrounding them was completely blasted and grey mist covered the murky ground. It was only after standing outside for a few minutes that Luna noticed what was happening, removed her oxygen mark, and breathed in fresh air for the first time in fifteen years.