They stayed near the ground floor for the night as trying to scale the fifty something floors of the complex would have had them passed out from exhaustion but a quarter of the way up. The two adults set the girl up in a room adjacent to theirs on the second floor. They would not stay the night in the same room as her despite her protests (for the usual reason) and she spent the night hiding under pristine fluffy blankets in the dark. At first she was kept up by thoughts of bulging eyes and gaping mouths coming for her in the dark, but after a long day of walking and hauling food she relented and her tired eyelids closed of their own accord.

But her journey was not over. As she closed her eyes and spiraled down upon the rhythmic waves of warm repose, she found herself trudging across a white barren landscape. Beside her were many others like her, dark amorphous figures wrapped in layers and covered in soot, all trudging along in the wake of a massive steel vehicle that churned and belched black smoke. Her face was pelted icy cold snow and whipped by harsh winds that blew in from the side. The winds were beyond anything she had ever experienced, a cold that cut her down to the bone. The snow that descended relentlessly upon them was mixed with dark ash spewed from the steel juggernaut plowing the way ahead.

She felt a tap upon her left shoulder. She struggled to turn her head from the frozen cold and exhaustion.

It was a young tan man with frozen eyebrows and a frozen mustache. His face was framed by a thick wooly parka. “Kyle! Keep going mate! The next rotation is coming up, then we’ll be riding warm for the next couple miles!” The man patted her on the shoulder and grinned. “Don’t give out on me yet, I told yer mum I’d keep you safe! Don’t make me have to carry you.”

“Oh come off it George!” she could hear herself speak with a strange deep gruff voice. “On those limp noodle legs o’ yours? You kin’ hardly keep yourself up!” She reached up with big unfamiliar arms to give the man a little push.

“What a place though eh?” said the man, still grinning. “Think the Rust’s gonna follow us down here?”

“It’s welcome to fucking try.” she responded, “Fuck if I’m going to be the only one freezing MY fucking arse off.” She trudged on a bit panting heavily. “Fuck! How long we got til the site anyways?”

“I reckon it’s at least up past that ridge over there.” George replied pointing into the distance. It was difficult to make out, but there was a faint crooked outline past the snow and gray clouds that marked a large icy hill.

“Oh… fuck… me…” she panted, keeling to the side. “Let me… just take a quick break…”

Just then there was a large bellow from the ice crawler ahead of them, bells began clanging signaling a gear change and the blackened machine began to slow down. George ducked under her arm and pulled her upright. “Speak of the heavens, shift change time! Let’s get going, quickly now! Don’t wanna miss it!”

She began to protest but was too tired to and so let her friend half carry her along. Never had the smell of burnt oil and smoke been so welcome to her. They closed the last stretch, stumbling through the flattened snow, just as the ice crawler grinded to a halt. The large dark construct loomed over them as they huddled close to the massive treads to take cover from the cutting winds. There was already a small line forming up in front of them.

“Alright lads off you go! Time for the next rotation!” shouted a large burly young woman, leaning on a railing high above them. Blurry figures dressed in layers of clothes filed out of the heavy steel doorway one by one, reluctant to leave the relative warmth inside. They slowly proceeded down the metal stairs grasping the slippery rails and clunking down with each footstep. As always, the process was soon halted by a disturbance.

“I can’t leave now! It’ll be the death of me!” It was a thin pale man, his muffled voice buried deep within a scarf. “Me leg ain’t right I tell ye! Please let me stay on just for one more rotation!”

“Rules is rules!” shouted the woman. “Now unless you can find a volunteer to give you their spot, you best get moving before I do the moving for you!”

The man looked down at the line of exhausted figures waiting to board. “Please! Anyone? Me leg just needs a coupla hours more rest, that's all! I’ve lost three toes already!”

The men at the bottom were silent, eyes cast down. At the beginning of the journey there would be sympathetic volunteers willing to do two rotations in the snow. At the beginning, that was.

It soon became clear the human body was not meant to withstand such cold for such long periods of time. Those that tried ended up severely injured or crippled. And being crippled was a death sentence.

“Well there’s your answer, tough luck.” said the woman. “Out you go.”

The man hung his head down and with an unsteady limping gait, made his way down the stairs.

“Shame, that.” said George, “Fewer and fewer of us are making it back each time.”

“You think Larry made it?” asked the girl, “He wasn’t looking too hot last I saw.”

George peered around, “Can’t see shit right now, guess we’ll see when we’s inside.”

The interior of the machine felt like heaven. Warmth washed over her weary body, though the smell of burning oil was as pervasive as ever. They headed down to the kitchens, clunking in their boots as water from melting frost dripped off them. She had but one mouthful of bread left from the last inside rotation which quickly vanished into her mouth. Inside, women and children worked to keep the behemoth functioning. Children helped hand out food and cook as well as deliver messages while the women carried heavy parts and supplies up and down the construct. The furnaces down below were worked by women as well, they took shifts shoveling coal into the greedy mouth of the engine. There was not enough space inside for everyone, and they needed to conserve fuel to reach their destination so the men took “rotations” walking outside alongside the vehicle so it wouldn’t have to carry their weight. This was the most dangerous task of all.

There had been two ice crawlers at first, but one had a malfunction and broke down. They had moved most of the supplies to the sole surviving one, but now there wasn’t enough space for everyone. Women and children were important for repopulating should it come to that, so the men walked.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

The girl sat down with George at the mess hall and drank the most delicious soup she had ever had in the entire 34 years of her life (despite it being simply chicken broth with bio-algae). Larry had not made it unfortunately, she had been looking forward to asking him about his thoughts on the new colony design. Their final destination was a small crater on top of a plateau near the highest point on Antarctica. There were coal deposits they could mine as well as oil for later on when they were properly set up. A few groups had already arrived ahead of them (hopefully) and there was at least one crawler behind them. She finished her soup and dozed while listening to George gabbing on to bystanders about this and that as usual. A few fellows were playing a game of chance with dice, but after she had won repeatedly for 10 games straight they kicked her out of the group.

Afterwards they lined up for a medical check. There were bits of skin here and there that were frostbitten, the stump where her right little toe used to be was feeling a bit worse, and the tip of her left ring finger might need to be chopped in the near future. Overall though, nothing too major. Eventually they made it back to the bunks just as the bells rang and the ice crawler lurched to a start once more, jostling everyone and rattling all their tools and belongings. Her eyes closed from exhaustion the moment her back hit the bunk, and she felt herself being swayed to sleep by the rhythmic movements of the vehicle.

Swaying… swaying…

She heard seagulls.

A warm ocean breeze caressed her softly. The gentle crash of waves could be heard far down below. She blinked her eyes open to the bright sun and blue sky. She lay there in her hammock for a few moments.

It was nice.

Then, she looked at her watch, it was 0830. She stretched luxuriously and got up, walking over to the edge of the platform and peering down 70 meters to the water's surface.

The Ocearana was one of five massive oil rigs along the Gulf of Mexico. This one was located 500 kilometers off the nearest coast. Its platform was at least 300 meters (3 football fields) at the longest and it had three levels as well as multiple lifts that could be lowered and raised as needed for supplies. It was largely out of service and they had stopped pumping oil due to the lack of available refineries to process it into usable form. But its large surface allowed it to be converted into a food and solar farms, which in turn allowed its inhabitants to live in relative luxury.

The girl’s bunk was a makeshift area sectioned off near the highest point on the platform. She had hung a hammock on the small chain link balcony outside so that she could lay there and gaze at the stars at night, when the weather permitted of course. She would often spend the nights with a small reading light perusing a book from the library they managed to salvage or chatting with her neighbor, Elizabeth, under the moon and star-swept sky.

Her room was actually a half-room which had been divided by a wall so that they could fit more people in half the space in order to clear the other rooms for agriculture. This particular offshore rig had been remodeled to open up more surface area. They had knocked out many rooms in the middle creating an open encircled area removing many of the previous bunks and living quarters. She stumbled into the small shared area just as her neighbor stepped out of the shower.

“Morning Becca, a bit of a late start today?” the woman asked.

“Morning, Lizzie.” the girl felt herself answer in a melodious voice. “I just had the oddest of nightmares yesterday.”

“Ooh do tell, was it about that little girl again?” Lizze asked, sweeping her dark hair aside and pulling on her work overalls. The woman gave her an intrigued look. “Do you think it's something to do with your…y'know gift?”

“It was actually” the girl answered. She made her way to the humid still-damp makeshift bathroom. “I’ll tell you more at breakfast.”

As she stripped to enter the shower, she caught a look at herself in the mirror. Two unfamiliar light brown eyes looked back at her framed by short pale blonde hair. A smattering of light freckles were scattered almost imperceptibly over her pale cheeks. She stepped into the tiny shower letting the hot boiler heated water wash over her. She hadn’t been but a couple minutes when she heard a hard pounding on the shared room’s door causing her to jump.

“Becca stop lazing about and get to breakfast already! If you’re late for your shift again I swear to god…!” shouted a loud masculine voice.

“Okay! I’m almost done, jeez!” she shouted back. “Get off my back already!”

She turned off the shower and grabbed her towel. He was right though, being late so many times could get her in serious trouble. Humankind was in survival mode now, supplies were dwindling, and despite the resort-like atmosphere the coastal rig often had, their world was still ending. She stepped into the shared-space just as a tall lean dark haired man with sharp pale blue eyes burst in.

“Becca what are you still doin-” he froze suddenly at the sight of her.

“James what the fuck!” she screamed, pulling her towel around her. “You can’t just burst in here like that!”

His face was tinged with red as anger melted into embarrassment. He looked away, trying to regain composure. “I didn’t… ! Just… get moving alright?” he stammered as he closed his eyes and tried to retreat back out the door. He scrabbled at the door, unable to find the doorknob with his eyes closed.

“You just peeked at me.” she said.

“I did not!” James replied, glaring at her.

“You’re peeking at me right now, you pervert.” she said, raising her eyebrows.

“I’m looking at you, there’s a difference.” James was finally able to find the doorknob. “Looking is not the same as peeking!”

“Suure.” she replied, still giving him a look.

“I’m leaving. Don’t… don’t be late!” he tried to say with a firm voice as he retreated out the door, though his face was still red.

The girl quickly moved to lock the door, then stood staring at it for a moment before sighing. Even though some part of her didn’t want to admit it, the changing world had in turn changed everyone she had known in ways she could no longer recognize. She had known James since middle school. Her family had moved due to her mother’s job on an offshore rig and she had been alone in a sea of unfamiliar faces and preformed friend groups. And there he was, the other new student. He was a bit awkward at first, but she soon found out he was a thoughtful kind guy that enjoyed reading much like her. They had taken solace in each other’s loneliness and even though eventually they had found other friends in high school, they had stayed in touch.

They had been getting ready to go off to college when the Rust Wave started. As the terrors spread across the country, he had grown more distant. The turning point came when he one day got the call that his family had died in a car crash. It was while he was at work, they had been going to the grocery store to stock up on food when an out of control truck hijacked by looters plowed right through them. When she found out he had made it to the offshore oil rig through a family friend, she had tried to approach him to give support, but he had shrugged her off, becoming cold and hard as if he had retreated into a shell of stoic rage.

Oddly enough, despite the embarrassment, this recent event seemed to have cracked that shell of his. She hoped she could perhaps meet him at breakfast and somehow use this crack to get back her old friend again. It would be nice if she could catch a glimpse of that happy excitable boy. That boy that would light up everytime they talked about the newest fantasy novel and would talk for 30 minutes straight about the power dynamics between the dragons and the elves. That would be nice.

She dressed quickly throwing on a pair of overalls and clipped a hardhat to her belt. Just as she grabbed her work satchel and made for the door she heard another knock. Jeez again? she thought. But this knock was different, as was the voice that called through it. It was unfamiliar… yet she had heard it somewhere before.

“Hey! Hey kid! You up yet?”

The girl opened her eyes. She was back at the hotel. Sun was poking in through a gap between the rich thick velvet green curtains.

“Hey! You doing alright in there?”

It was John.

“Yeah just give me a couple more minutes…” she half yelled half murmured. Then she fell back to sleep.