Darkness on a Pale Blue Stone (8 page)

Marie shakily nodded. "O... Okay," she said softly. Alice helped her up and they began to head back toward the New Jersey shore.

Below them in the river, Gresson swam at a maddening pace. The water was frigid and he had to swim around floating debris. Nearby he could see the airplane hull still above water, but slowly sinking. After a minute of swimming, he came across a piece of debris from the airplane's wing. It was large enough to support his weight, so he pulled himself onto it to get a better vantage point.

"Adam! Sean! Ben!" he called.

"Gresson! Hel..." came Sean's distant and water-garbled voice.

Gresson immediately jumped back into the water, grabbed the wing debris, and pushed it in Sean's direction. Once he was close, he grabbed Sean and pulled him onto the makeshift flotation device.

Sean laid back and spit up water and vomit. "Tha... Thanks," he managed to reply.

"Any sign of Adam or Ben?" Gresson asked.

Sean shook his head. After coughing up more water, he said, "I saw him... saw him fall right before I did. He can't... *
cough
*... can't be far."

Gresson continued to call for Adam and Ben, but there were no replies.
Dammit!
he thought. He dove underwater, but he couldn't see anything farther than a few centimeters away. He surfaced, defeated, and said, "Michael is coming with a boat. We might get a better look around then."

Sean looked over at him and said, "A boat? None of them... them... *
cough
*... work." Sean spit out some more water.

Gresson doubtfully replied, "If he can find a small one, and a paddle. Or a canoe or..."

Sean interrupted, "There!" He pointed at Adam's face down body, floating just beside the almost fully-submerged hull. Gresson quickly swam to Adam and flipped him over.

"Adam!" he yelled. There was no response. Gresson pulled Adam over to the wing piece. "Get off," he growled at Sean, who promptly rolled back into the water. Gresson pulled Adam onto the debris and again called his name. Again, there was no response. Gresson checked for a pulse and breathing, but found neither. He began to perform what looked like CPR, though it seemed more intricate.

Out of the corner of his eye, Sean saw a sailboat approaching. "Michael's coming," he said.

Michael had only been on a sailboat once before while in college. He luckily remembered enough to get it moving, and the wind favored him. As he came closer to the field of floating debris, he saw Gresson kneeling over someone. Michael began to breathe harder. A few seconds later, he was close enough to see Sean floating next to them. He saw the look on Sean's face. There was no longer any question about who was lying on the piece of debris.

"Adam!" Michael cried. The next few seconds lasted an eternity for Michael. Breathless and wide eyed, he watched as Gresson pumped his son's chest. No thoughts crossed Michael's mind. No memories of his son or pleas to the universe. He just stared, a raw mix of fear and desperation flowing through him.

Michael's heart skipped a beat as his son violently spasmed and spit up water. As Adam slowly began to embrace consciousness, Michael slid to the floor of the sailboat and said, "Oh thank god."

Gresson slid back into the water. "What do you remember, Adam?" he asked.

Adam coughed, then replied, "Everything. I'm fine. Just... just gotta catch my breath."

"You know where you are?" Gresson asked.

"Yeah, yeah. The bridge, that guy..." Adam said.

Sean interrupted, "Oh, no. Ben."

Gresson, Sean, and Michael began to look around the field of debris and call for Ben. "See anything, Michael?" Gresson asked. Michael had the better vantage point on the boat, but his answer was no. "Okay, let's all get on the boat. Then we will look around," Gresson said.

Sean climbed onto the boat first, with some help from Michael. Then the two men helped Adam crawl on. Once onboard, Adam laid down on the deck, occasionally coughing up the little remaining water he had left in him. After Gresson joined them, Michael turned the boat and navigated it through the field of floating plane and bridge wreckage.

Twenty minutes passed before Gresson finally said, "He's gone."

"Damn it," Michael said. "It's our fault. If I hadn't tried to help him..."

"If we hadn't tried to help him, he would still be up there, trapped, starving, and likely to die by the end of the night. Drowning is probably a better death," Gresson solemnly said.

"It's still a death I caused," Michael replied.

"Caused? As I recall, the wreckage was on the verge of collapse already."

"It still wouldn't have happened without me."

Gresson sighed. "Irrationally beating yourself up will not do you or us any favors."

Michael scoffed. "I guess I just take death seriously and apparently you don't. Throwing a gun in everyone's face and pulling the trigger if someone's in your way. You..."

Gresson interrupted with his own scoff. "In my way? They were a group of armed thugs. You are placing a sanctity on life that doesn't belong. Actions are what matters, not just the state of being alive. Sometimes death is better than the miserable lives it ends."

"So death is better than life? Are you talking about some kind of afterlife? I never pegged you as religious," Michael said.

"No." Gresson shook his head, then said distantly, "You people have so much to learn."

"'You people'? What do you mean..."

"Dad, just drop it, alright? You two can have your philosophy chat sometime when I don't already have a raging headache," Adam groaned.

Michael shook his head at Gresson, then turned to his son. "Sorry, Adam. How are you feeling?"

"'Floaty' is the only word I can think to describe it. I'm... I'm not all here yet."

"Let's get to shore, then you can at least be on solid ground," Michael said.

As they headed back to the New Jersey shoreline to find Alice and Marie, the two approached, paddling a small fishing boat.

"Michael!" Alice shouted as she saw her husband. Alice and Marie both gave sighs of relief when they saw both Michael and Adam alive. They abandoned the fishing boat to join everyone else on the sailboat, which was now rather crowded. The Cases exchanged joyous hugs.

Gresson turned the boat in the other direction as everyone else shared their perspectives of the events on the bridge. When Alice reached the point in her story where she saw Adam and Michael again, she broke into tears.

"When I saw you were okay, I... *sob*... I am so glad you're both okay. God himself must be looking out for us." Alice wasn't very religious, and while she had a Catholic upbringing, those beliefs instilled in her as a child had eroded over time. But some respect for the spiritual realm still existed inside her.

Gresson appeared slightly annoyed by Alice's comment. He made no attempt to make it obvious, but Alice noticed. She wiped away tears and said, "I take it you don't believe in God?"

Michael was unsure if he should interrupt. Part of him felt that a religious discussion was a bit out of place after what they had gone through. Yet, he was too curious about the mindset of Alexander Gresson.

Gresson didn't seem interested in the discussion, but he replied, "Which one?"

Alice shrugged. "Any, I suppose."

"No, I don't."

"What do you believe in?"

"I don't 'believe'. I observe, I learn, then I know. Anything else is pointless."

Frowning, Sean said, "Sounds kinda arrogant, man. No one knows everything."

"Of course," Gresson replied. "The difference is that I don't pretend to know what I do not, unlike many of those who 'believe.'"

"But who cares if someone 'believes'?" Michael interjected.

"Because 'belief' causes people to assume something beyond themselves is responsible for what happens to humanity. That their actions are secondary to some kind of destiny. Yet we are the only ones responsible for our fate. There was no god, angels, or spiritual energy that saved your son today. I did."

Alice was put off by Gresson's explanation. "Well..." she replied with an angry tone. "I'm sorry I didn't thank you..."

"I do not need your thanks. All I need is for you to think rationally and to understand that we have to rely on each other. That is the only way any of us are going to survive."

No one had anything to say after that. The boat ride to the Delaware shore was quiet. When the group stepped onto shore, the sun had neared the horizon. Adam had mostly recovered, though he still felt light-headed.

"We need to find somewhere with supplies," Gresson said. The group had left everything on the bridge, most of which was now undoubtedly at the bottom of the river.

After an hour of searching, they found a small grocery store. It was in miserable shape after being raided by many looking for food, medicine, or working electronics, the last of which was, of course, no where to be found. Several people were inside, scavenging for anything useful that remained among the toppled aisle shelves.

While the group was on alert for any resistance, their own search went unheeded and yielded most of the necessities they would need at least for their journey tomorrow. When everyone was satisfied with what they had collected, they found a small area near the back of the store to lay down blankets and tablecloths to sleep on. No one had much to say as they all drifted off into much-needed sleep.

Chapter 11

Delaware - August 7, 2072

Sunlight poured through the glass window of the store the next morning. Everyone was slow to get up, even Gresson who was, for once, showing signs of fatigue. Now that there was light, the group could fully see the wreckage around them. Smashed shelves, spilled food, and innumerable boxes of various products littered the floor.

Adam stood up first, hoping to find something to eat. Nearby he found a unopened box of cereal. The rest of his family soon joined him, as did Sean.

"Wish we had some milk," Adam said.

"Probably don't want to try any that's still around," Sean said. "Unless you want fresh yogurt."

"Gross," Marie said softly.

"Ah, so she speaks," Sean said. Marie did not reply. "But only to let us know something's gross, huh?" Sean said with a chuckle.

Alice looked over at Gresson who was now eating from a container of vegetable paste that he had found. "You sure you don't want some cereal?" she asked him.

"I think I'll stick to the healthiest food I can find while it's still around," he said.

"You're really planning on living long enough, and through all this, for that to matter?" Sean jokingly asked.

Gresson stopped and looked at the container in his hands. "Fair enough," he said as he dropped it and joined the group. His answer was disconcerting, but everyone was pleasantly surprised to see him drop his guard. Gresson grabbed a box of Frosted Flakes and began to eat.

"Frosted Flakes, huh? I'm a Cheerios man myself," Sean said, lifting his box of the honey flavored cereal. "Gotta love the classics. Better than those 'food bars' everyone eats now. Some people would come into my store and that's all the groceries they would get. Whatever happened to... I don't know... real food, you know?" Compacted food bars had become a staple of American diet. They eliminated most appliance and storage needs, along with being easy to take on-the-go.

"We actually have... or had, a kitchen back home," Alice said.

Sean's eyes widened. "A kitchen? Like stove, oven, pots, pans, all that?" Alice nodded. "Wow, so you cooked and everything?" he asked.

"Yeah, Alice and I cooked almost every night. Kind of our hobby, I guess," Michael said. The couple smiled at each other, happy to reflect on their previous lives.

"I'm impressed. I don't think I'd have the patience for that," Sean said.

"Me and Marie never did," Adam said with a smile. Sean laughed, soon followed by the Cases.

"Was the food good at least?" Sean asked.

"Occasionally," Adam said with a mocking shrug.

"Hey!" Michael and Alice said in unison. They all began to laugh again.

Sean turned to Gresson and asked, "So, you're probably the oldest here. Did you grow up with kitchens or were you always eating... well... veggie paste?"

Gresson shook his head with a small smile. "Never had cereal as a kid, that's for sure. Let's just say my childhood was... a bit different."

"That makes a lot of sense, actually," Sean said with a grin.

They soon finished eating and began to pack up. They took everything useful they could find in the store and headed out. A few minutes later they were back on the highway.

After a few hours of walking, they crossed the border into Maryland. There, a large group of U.S. soldiers passed them, heading the opposite direction. They all maintained an aura of professionalism and duty with their clean uniforms, held weapons, and ordered pace. However, their faces gave away their fear. While they walked toward their destination, uncertainty plagued their minds.

"They must know something we don't," Sean muttered.

Michael shook his head. "No, they're used to that. I think for the first time, the military is in the same boat as everyone else."

Sean thought for a moment, then said, "Yeah, that does not make me feel any better."

Michael noticed that Gresson had kept his head turned away from the soldiers. Once they had passed, Michael asked him, "Why didn't you want them to see who you were?"

"We don't have the time for me to answer their questions," Gresson said. "Considering the state their chain of command must be in, they're probably feeling a bit independent, maybe even alone. Who knows what they would be willing to do to get answers with no one there to tell them 'no.'"

"You think they would attack a president?" Michael asked, unconvinced.

"No, but they might attack someone they thought was impersonating a dead one."

"Still, you seem to be able to handle yourself in a fight."

"There are only so many bullets I can dodge, Michael."

Michael didn't think Gresson was being literal, but he couldn't help wondering,
How many bullets
can
you dodge?