Barren Waters, A Post-Apocalyptic Tale of Survival

Sadly, I am one of a growing chorus of people who believe that, yes, it is too late to turn things around. So many species are in such low numbers, and habitats are so badly damaged that restoring them to their original splendor is simply no longer possible. I believe that our only option now is to decide how much we value what we currently have, and to decide what we are willing to do to maintain it -- or at least slow down its disappearance. But honestly, can you really see all 7 billion of us agreeing on that?”

—Dr. Lisa-Ann Gershwin

Chapter 5

55 Years Prior

He watched from across the room as she poured herself another glass of juice. He admired the way her nightgown skimmed her curves. The bed was warm where she’d left it, his skin chilled in places where their bodies had touched.

“I think I might need another glass after this,” she muttered to herself with a giggle. “Particularly after the day we just had.”

“No wine?” he queried, trying to catch her hand.

A twinkle lit her eyes. “No wine. Not tonight.”

As she crossed the room and slipped beneath the covers, he marveled at her effortless beauty. Her white silk gown whispered against the cotton sheets, and he immediately curled his legs around her body.

“I’m still in shock, as well,” he agreed, easily reading her body language. “I’ve never seen a bloom that pervasive before. Hell, I’ve never seen a nomura jellyfish in person before. It’s jarring, to say the least. They’re huge. They’re like something out of a science fiction movie.”

She nodded. His skin prickled at the memory. The day had been truly extraordinary. The event was another nail in Earth’s proverbial coffin. The crew of the Kazunoko had barely spoken English, but the language of fear was universal. Those sailors were frightened—frightened for their lives.

They’d sailed forty knots off the coast of Echizen, where they immediately encountered the bloom, and the size of it had taken Liam’s breath away. For the rest of the day, the crew had worked tirelessly to keep the ship upstream of hundreds of tangling bodies.

When he first saw the swarm, Liam had reached for Olivia’s hand, and the two had stood in silence and wonder, surveying the field of jellies around them. These were not the jellyfish Liam remembered as a young boy, swimming the murky waters off the Jersey Shore. No. These were Nomura’s jellyfish, the stuff of monstrous nightmares. The specimens were massive. Their bells, in some cases, reached a length of seven feet. Olivia had estimated the weight of each at around 450 pounds. But it was more than the size of any one specimen that had turned Liam’s stomach to acid. It was the sheer size of the bloom itself. There were hundreds upon hundreds of sliding bodies, a tangle that reached as far as the eye could see. They clustered and braided in a large floating mass.

“It’s happening,” he’d muttered to himself, horrified, as knots of poisonous tentacles weaved through the water. It was impossible to see where one jellyfish ended and the next began, and with a squeeze of her hand, Olivia had agreed.

“I’m here to test the composition of the water,” he had told her, “but I don’t think I need to run the tests at all. I can plainly see what’s happening here.”

“It’s a multitude of things,” she had breathed beside him. “And the result is absolutely remarkable. There’s overfishing for one: the larger predators are all but extinct in this area, which is allowing the larva of these jellies to thrive at undocumented levels. There’s nothing left to eat their young. Large predators gave this ecosystem its balance. But now that delicate balance is out of whack, which has allowed the jellies to overrun these waters. This area has effectively become another…” She shook her head.

“Another dead zone,” he finished quietly. “Dropping her hand, he pulled a map from his pocket and pointed to the outline of China. “I think, chemically speaking, the root of the problem originated here. The runoff of fertilizers and sewage from China’s coastal waters contributed to a bloom of phytoplankton.”

She easily picked up the thread of his logic. “And the phytoplankton begat zooplankton, which is an ample supply of food for giant jellies.”

“The temperature of the water increased,” Liam added, “which increased the rate of polyp reproduction.”

“Correct,” she said. “And don’t forget: jellyfish reproduce asexually. The warmer the water, the more they reproduce. Warmer temperatures only increase the speed at which they develop.”

Liam had sighed and refolded the map, slipped it into his pocket and run a hand through his salty hair. “So if I follow this logic—using your biblical lexicon, of course—the water pollution begat the zooplankton, and the zooplankton begat the polyps. Warmer waters and a lack of natural predators begat the giant jellies. So.” He took a deep breath. “What will the giant jellies beget?”

She cocked her head. “Umm…the end of sushi restaurants?”

“Cute.” He smiled. “Very cute. And though I hate to admit it, you’re right. The poisonous tentacles of these giant jellies will kill any fish that swims into their path. Imagine what happens when they’re caught up in fishing nets. Nothing could survive but the jellies themselves.”

She’d agreed and taken his logic one step further. “It’s why entire catches have been lost. These jellyfish can eat ten times their weight in a single day. Their existence alone is wiping out large fish populations.”

The afternoon, if nothing else, had been surreal. They watched the swarm of mindless carnivores while Liam took his samples. It was another stop on his worldwide tour of environmental devastation. Over the past few months, he’d journeyed from one disastrous event to the next, first to Sweden to study the moon jellies, which had cost the country millions of dollars, particularly after a large bloom had clogged the pipes of a nuclear power plant. The event had shut down half the country’s power grid. After that, he’d been sent to Florida, and next to Cape Town, Africa, both of which were suffering deadly blooms of Box jellies and Irukandji, the two most toxic stings known to man. Those beaches had been closed permanently. Liam didn’t expect them ever to open again.

Yes, he reflected, the day had been difficult. He fluffed the pillows behind his head. The jellyfish problem was one of many problems, but though significant, it was only an economic one. Liam was concerned about chemical issues.

“Olivia,” he ventured cautiously. “I’ve done what I came here to do. I’m done. I’ve taken my samples. We’re headed home tomorrow. Have you given any thought to what you’ll do when we get back?”

The moment they’d arrived in Japan, members of the United States army had whisked them to the institute amid crowded streets of homeless refugees, displaced by hard economic times. These people had depended on the oceans for food and work. In as little as two decades, Japan had fallen hard. Once a technological giant, it had devolved into a third world country. It was difficult to witness firsthand. And after seeing it, Liam couldn’t help but wonder what third world countries had become. Barren wastelands, he supposed. He didn’t want to find out. The situation in Japan was grave. Liam wanted to leave as soon as possible.

Olivia untangled herself from his legs and sat cross-legged on the bed. She swirled her juice as if she wished it were wine. “What will I do next? Hmmm. I don’t know. We did all we could in D.C.” She shrugged. “We’ve done all we can here, too, I suppose. We’ve visited every natural disaster with a biological element. So there won’t be many more that require my expertise. I suppose I’m no longer needed.” She stared at her glass and then raised her head, meeting his gaze through lowered lashes. “But I’d like to stay with you, if I can.”

As he stared into her deep blue eyes, he found himself wanting to voice his plan. It was a plan he had hatched weeks ago. Well, to be fair, it was one he’d put into motion several years before that; he just hadn’t expected to be sharing it with someone else. The original blueprint of his post-apocalyptic life had lacked the element of companionship, and sitting here now, he found that startling. Had he envisioned for himself a life of solitude? He had planned so carefully. He’d thought of everything. He’d drawn maps, made lists, placed large orders with bulk suppliers, built vast storerooms with floor-to-ceiling racks. He’d purchased generators and weaponry, stockpiled water, medicines, and food. Yet what was life without a partner to share it with? Now that he’d gotten to know Olivia, a life without her seemed unimaginable. He couldn’t just pack things up and abscond to the mountains by himself.

Peering into her glass of juice, he decided to lay his heart on the line. At this point, what did he have to lose? “Olivia,” he risked, “I think I’ve fallen in love with you.”

When she flinched, he immediately second-guessed his words. It was sudden, he knew. They barely knew each other. Would she think it too soon for such sentiments? But time, he reasoned, was a luxury they didn’t have. He needed her to see the truth. Now. And fast.

“Before you say something, just listen,” he said, his back stiff with anxiety. “Olivia, I think this is the beginning of the end.”

When she opened her mouth, he held up a hand. “Wait,” he said. “Hear me out. I don’t want to sound like a lunatic here, but I’m not a fool either. Neither are you.” Her mouth closed with a snap. He continued. “Liv, I think the time has come for me to go to ground.” He shook his head to silence her objection. “I don’t mean completely off the grid. Not yet. I just mean that it’s time to make a change. It’s time to select a place that meets certain criteria. It should be an isolated place, remote, with acres of wilderness and forestland to spare. It should be temperate, too, a place that could easily support plant and animal life, where despite the lower oxygen levels, plants could grow roots and flourish. It can’t be arid or swampy. And it can’t be overly-populated, or near a popular travel destination.”

“Liam,” she whispered, “What are you saying? Are you saying you’re planning to leave me? I know we haven’t been together that long, but…”

“No.” He gathered her into his arms and pressed his mouth to her ear. “No. I’m asking if you’ll come with me. Look around you, Liv. Look at this place. Society is crumbling around us. We need to get out of here, return stateside, move to an isolated place. Don’t you get it?”

Pushing away from his chest, she met his gaze. “You think it’s that bad already?”

“I do.”

“Okay. Then tell me. What are the facts?”

He blew out a breath. “Jellyfish blooms notwithstanding, of course, the real problem lies in the chemistry. The oceans are becoming anoxic, Liv. I ran tests in Sweden, off the coast of India, in Wales, and here in Japan, as well. There’s no fixing this issue. It’s too late for that. We’ve reached the point of no return. It’s time to make personal decisions. I’m afraid it’s time to thinking selfishly. In D.C., the rumors have been circulating for months: the United States is planning to close its borders—permanently. For good this time.”

He plucked the glass from her hand and set it on the nightstand. “Countries are beginning to close ranks. There are too many refugees seeking asylum, too many for any one country to support. The situation is every bit an economic one as it is a political one.” Dropping her hands, he gathered his hair into a low ponytail at the base of his neck. “It’s the anoxia that’ll finally do us in. It already is. The Polar Regions are warming at a faster rate than the water at the equator, which has decreased the temperature differential between both regions. It’s been happening for decades, but we’re just beginning to see the effects. This temperature differential is what drives ocean circulation, and since that circulation has become less pronounced, the currents are shutting down altogether. Think of it, Liv. Think of what’s happening. Without ocean circulation, the water won’t turnover anymore. The currents shut down. Things become still. Oxygen no longer mixes with water, and bacteria takes over. Do you see what I’m saying? The oceans are becoming…” He searched for the right word.

“Stagnant,” she finished dully.

“Yes. Stagnant. And what did you mother always tell you about stagnant water? Think about the effect a stagnant ocean would have on the world at large. If the oceans become stagnant pools of stinking water, how that would affect our planet?” Her eyes became round as saucers. “In a world like that, those who haven’t planned will ultimately perish. Large-scale production of food will cease. Nothing new will be developed.

“Our country is rich in supplies,” he continued. “There’s a convenience mart or grocery store on every block, in every city, from coast to coast. But how long will those supplies last us? And how will people treat one another to claim the rights to them? It’s a vision of a world I don’t want to be a part of. It’s a world we need to sequester ourselves from—until the worst of things pass, that is. I’m not suggesting a complete withdrawal from society. I’m not even suggesting the collapse is imminent. I only submit that we set up safety nets, that we sketch out a diagram of a possible new life—should the one that exists fail us.” He gently took her hands in his. “Liv, I’m asking you to join me.”

“Join you?”

Her eyes were wide. He had her full attention. And though he hadn’t meant to say the words out loud, he found them spilling from his lips just the same.

“Liv, I’m asking you to marry me.”

“Marry you?”

As her mouth dropped open, gooseflesh crawled across his arms and legs. It was too damn soon. He must sound like a nut. “You don’t have to answer right away,” he stammered, trying to backpedal but failing miserably. “There’s no rush. I’m just posing the question. Just think about it. Take whatever time you need. It’s just an idea. Just something to think about.”

She placed a finger on his mouth to silence him, then replaced it with her lips and spoke softly against his mouth. “I don’t need to think about it, because my answer is yes.”

Inhaling her scent, he kissed her deeply. He’d never been so happy in his life.

“So, Colonel Custer,” she smiled brilliantly. “Have you considered where we’ll make our last stand?”

“Considered?” He shook his head smugly. “I haven’t considered anything, Mrs. Colt. I’ve actually purchased it already.”

She gasped. “Okay. Do tell. Where will I be living out my last days on this planet?”

“Sevierville,” he said, “Sevierville, Tennessee. I purchased a cabin in the Smokey Mountains, a spacious home on the crest of a large hill, surrounded by thirty-seven acres of forestland.”

She set down her juice, slid her body beneath his and snaked her bare legs around his waist. Her throaty whisper set fire to his body.

“A spacious one, huh? Spacious is good.” She kissed his ear and the base of his throat. “Does it have a nursery?”

“A nursery?” He nearly choked.

Her lips curved into a smile against his mouth. “Yeah. A nursery. Come on now, Liam. You know how much I love my nightly glass of wine. Why do you think I’m drinking juice?”