They all slept in the dining area that night, as it was deemed too dangerous to try to run the elevators or climb the stairs up to their rooms. The hurricane raged on outside. They were unsure how long it would last for, it could clear up tomorrow or run for the next three days straight. One of the windows had been struck by a flying crowbar and they patched it up with heavy duty tape. Still though, the cracked panel whistled with the blowing winds, making it hard to sleep. The ground was also pretty hard, there weren't enough sleeping bags for everyone and the ground was pretty drenched.

Becca slept back to back with James. To preserve heat, he said. She didn’t question it. Truth be told, as she lay there wedged between his broad back and the legs of the table, she felt safe and secure, even as the wind and waves tore at them from outside. She hoped the library had survived the water. It would be a shame if the last few books on earth were lost. Becca shifted a bit and snuggled the best she could against the hard floor and closed her eyes. She dreamt of the small girl, the doctor, and the green eyed woman. They played pool, searched luxurious hotel rooms for food, and went up on the roof to watch the sunset. It felt so peaceful.

The next morning it appeared the storm had died down. At least the wind and rain had. Surprisingly, James had let her sleep longer than the other despite him constantly ragging on her before. They had a quick breakfast of fish and seaweed stew before they headed back outside. They didn’t talk much, most of them were too tired from restless uncomfortable sleep.

James went up to receive instructions from the wing leader. Their unit along with three other groups were assigned to check the lifts and then go down to assess the docks below the lower levels. One of the groups with them was composed of 24 people that were staying at a living unit right below Becca’s.

They were part of the crew of a large shipping transport vessel, named the Vestuge, that had found itself without direction after its company stopped giving them orders. Under the command of Captain Timothy Larkke, the original crew had docked at a nearby port off the Gulf of Mexico to try to figure out what to do. Some went off to find their family, the rest figured it was best if they just loaded up on supplies. While they were trying to take as much as they could from the nearby stores, a large armed raiding force working with the cartel attacked the port town hoping to gain control of the sea-vessels there. The Vestuge hastily took off leaving half the crew but at the same time picking up a few stowaways including Eric.

The inhabitants onboard the Vestuge, at this point, consisted of 13 original crew members including Captain Larkke, three family members of the original crew, an unrelated family of three that had gotten on to escape the pillaging, a young couple in their 20’s that were looking for their families, two warehouse workers that had been unloading supplies on the dock, and Eric: a rather airheaded young man who had stumbled aboard and fallen asleep after having too much to drink the night before. So in total, 24 people.

At first, the original crew wanted to get rid of the unrelated stowaways starting with Eric due to his tendency to not follow most of the regulations and appearing in areas he was not supposed to be in. However, he had a very odd tendency to accidentally do things that ended up being beneficial.

Eric had an aggravating tendency to leave random tools lying around after work. Despite being repeatedly told to place them in a secure spot so it didn’t fly off and hit someone during rough seas. Someone had already been hit by a crowbar and was in the medical bay due to a minor concussion and needed 6 stitches. However on one such occasion, Eric had once again left a crowbar on deck; this time it was near the cargo holds. During a shift in the seas, one of the shipping containers came loose of its ropes and shifted, ending up trapping the only two children on the ship. One of the warehouse workers heard the children’s cries and rushed to help, he just needed something to pry the opening wider for them to crawl out. Lo and behold here comes the crowbar almost flying right into his grasp. The man pried them loose without a second to lose as another container slams into the first. Had the children not gotten out, they would’ve been crushed.

Another thing about Eric was that he had a tendency to wander into places he wasn’t supposed to be. The Vestuge was a newer generation ship that ran off nuclear power which could probably last for another 20 years without intervention. But the engines had been experiencing issues these past few years. One night, the engine room was fenced off as the only two crew members, Derrick and Rob, that knew how to take care of it went to work, cleaning and recalibrating a peripheral part of the sputtering metal hunk. Unfortunately, one of the moving parts caught onto one of the Derrick’s sleeve, pulling it in and began chewing into his hand. Rob tried to call in an emergency engine shut down, but at the time, the helm was on break as it was in the middle of the night, there was only a watchman who was not near the engine controls. Out of nowhere, Eric strolls in because he got lost while looking for the bathroom. He also happens to be holding a crowbar for some reason.

Derrick’s left hand was still pretty mangled by the end of it, but with emergent medical care he was able to keep from bleeding to death and later on regained use of his thumb and index finger.

Now at this point it was pretty much agreed upon that unless this ship had been blessed with some sort of magic crowbar, there was definitely something up with Eric. There was another time when he accidentally caused their ship to ram another ship while they were responding to its distress call only to find out they were pirates.

Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

Every time Eric had a bad gut feeling about something, there was bound to be something bad there. The crew learned to put up with this odd young man’s shenanigans and found a way to work him into their team. Consequently, they learned to accept the rest of the stowaways, teaching them ways to become a part of the ship. Eventually they made a new life trading between various colonies dotting the islands and ocean bases in the Gulf of Mexico. They had stopped here on the Ocearana just as the storm was brewing, and the rest was history.

After riding down together on a platform elevator, one of the other groups had split off to check the small boats around them as most had been flipped over or swept away. They worked to get the remaining ones back into shape so they could take them out to inspect the massive columns holding the rig up. Jame’s group, including Becca, checked the docks while the crew of the Vestuge went to repair the damages to their ship. Due to the proximity of their assigned task, they were able to socialize and exchange important information as well as just simply make friends.

Becca listened in as her neighbor, Elizabeth, chatted away with some of the crew members, learning things about the other seafaring habitats. Elizabeth or “Lizzie” was a rather attractive woman. She had wavy brown hair, pale skin, and freckles; her sparkling green eyes were framed by a rather plain set of black rimmed glasses. She was an avid learner and had a very bright eyed way of initiating conversations which the male crew members of the Vestuge were caught off guard by. They easily opened up to her and regaled her in tales of their exploits while she enthusiastically took notes on a notebook that she always kept on hand. She was quickly enthralled by Eric due to her interest in gifted individuals.

“So you think Eric’s gifted?” Lizzie asked, adjusting her glasses as she peeked over at the tuft of fluffy blonde hair bobbing about the ship without direction.

They were standing on one of the docks underneath the rig clearing off the various debris that had collected there. They had about two hours before the eye passed and they were hit by the other side of the hurricane. In the distance, Becca could see the wind farm: white spindly mills spinning in the wind. Two of them had been completely destroyed by the storm’s first pass, mangled forms heaving in the waves. A few others were missing parts of their vanes, spinning in a rather lopsided manner.

Working next to Lizzie was a rather lean muscular man by the name of Rosario. He had messy dark brown hair tied back in a ponytail and bushy eyebrows from which gleaming gray-green eyes peered. He was one of the deck-hands on board the Vestuge. He was affixing a massive rope to one of the cleats on the dock.

“Well y’know, I never thought about it like that before," the man said, arching his eyebrows. “I don’t think he’s ever… y’know moved things with his mind. I’m no expert though.”

“Oh! But there are different types!” Lizzie said. She pointed at Becca, “My friend here’s been sharing dreams with a girl halfway across the country. Also she’s–.”

“Hey! Enough chit chat! We only got an hour or so left before the hurricane eyewall hits.” James appeared behind them suddenly. He gave Lizzie a stern look “You can socialize all you want once we’re done.”

Lizzie tucked her notebook away and scooped up an armful of twisted metal parts. “Well I guess we’ll talk later then! Introduce me to Eric sometime!” She wobbled her head in a sort of head-wave and moved off to the collection point.

James hoisted a sack of various electrical parts over his shoulder and narrowed his cold blue eyes. He motioned to Becca, “Hey come over here for a sec.”

“What!” She stopped what she was doing. Then she sighed and followed him to a stack of crates that was waterlogged, but relatively undisturbed. “What did I do now?”

He gave her a surprised look. “What? Oh, I wasn’t trying to tell you off or anything. I just…” He looked around to check if anyone was around. “So you are really gifted huh?”

“Maybe I am…” She met his icy blue look with her own warm chestnut gaze; almost aloof, almost guarded. “Maybe I’m not, does it matter right now? It doesn’t really do much.”

James sighed and broke eye contact, “Look, it’s better if less people know… There have been murmurs.”

“Murmurs?” Becca inquired.

“They’re saying it’s the gifted that caused the end of the world. Some of the more superstitious folk are saying everything was fine until the gifted appeared.”

“That doesn’t make any sense, though. The timelines don’t match up.”

“I know, but just… Tensions are high, it's better to be safe.”

“Ok fine. You’re right, as usual.” She threw up her hands and tried to turn away, but was stopped when he put a hand on her shoulder.

“I’m serious. I…”

Becca turned her head back to look at him and was startled by his intense look.

“I’ve been pretty distant these days… I know.” He broke eye contact again and looked to the side as if slightly embarrassed. “But you’re one of the few people that remind me of back then. When everything was… good.”

James’s gaze meandered back then stopped as if ensnared by her quizzical stare. “I care about you.”

Becca suddenly felt very hot for some reason and turned to look at the wind turbines blowing in the distance. “Y-you’re pretty alright too I guess.”

She felt James about to say something when suddenly there was a scream. They both turned toward the southern docks where the scream had come from. Two women were near a pile of rubbish, one was holding out her arms.

They rushed over along with the others. James’s demeanor shifted back into one in command. “What happened here? Is anyone hurt?”

The onlookers parted to reveal a twisted hunk of scrap metal. A woman was holding her hands away from her eyes wide open. Becca couldn’t see anything wrong with her though. Another woman, the one who had screamed, pointed at the pile of scrap. “She touched it! She touched it!”

Gasps rang out throughout the crowd as they looked.

Hanging from the rusted gray-red iron was an eyeball.