nodded in response to himself before
stepping out onto the frozen Strait. True to the military’s boasts, the suit performed
as intended, keeping the frigid temperatures from penetrating through to his
body. If Kyle had had the luxury of observation, he would have thought to
commend the military for a job well done. However, he was focused on putting
one foot in front of the other. Despite what others called a lax lifestyle, he
was in excellent shape. The benefits of good genes and youth, but this was no
jog around the flat track. His full concentration was required.
After two hours of walking and climbing, Kyle’s
agility was being put to the test by the strong winds and by having to navigate
the uneven terrain. Although thankful for not having to swim, the ice was no
cakewalk. Every so often the ice shifted, threatening to throw him off balance.
At one point it succeeded in doing just that and Kyle had to grab for the edge
of an ice sheet to keep from falling into a hole. He hung there for several
seconds before clawing his way up onto a flatter section. Every few feet he’d spot
another opening in the ice, a hole into the abyss below. If he fell into one of
those it wouldn’t be a ‘showstopper’, it would be a ‘game over’. Keeping this
in mind, he picked his way over the ice using extreme caution.
When he worried the rough terrain would never end, the
surface changed from jagged to flat, with no transition to forewarn him. Flat
ground was a gift horse whose mouth he would not look into. Kyle walked on, concentrating
hard on the task at hand. After another thirty minutes, realizing he’d walked
into a thick gray-white mist, he stopped to find his bearings. He was
surrounded. Fog so thick he could barely see his feet, giving the allusion of
walking on a cloud. He pushed on. A half an hour later he heard the sound of
splashing waves ahead. He proceeded slow and easy. Soon he arrived at the edge,
where ice turned to water. A wave splashed up in his face startling him. The
time had come, the true test of his endurance was about to commence. Kyle
removed his regular boots, replacing them with split toe flippers made of the
same material as his body suit. He walked to the edge, took a deep breath and slid
into the water.
Knowing the international relay team took six days to
swim the entire Strait gnawed at him a bit before he’d set out on this quest,
but when doubt threatened to unravel his will, he only had to think about doing
nothing. This thought alone vanquished the most daunting of his fears. The plan
was go, or no other option. A ‘no go’ wasn’t on the table. He couldn’t explain
this to Ada or Will or the many others who tried to talk him out of going.
Sometimes a man had to man-up and do the necessary thing, right or wrong.
As he swam his solitary swim, being tossed about like
a rag doll at times, Kyle thought back to before the great white mass devoured
the United States, back to the last time he had contact with his family. Lost
in thought he hardly noticed the moment when the water ceased pulling him in
every direction. Pausing to take in his surroundings, he looked around at the
thick fog that enveloped him. The waters had turned calm and silent. An eerie
calm that sent a shiver went down his spine. In his short time on Earth he’d
lived a rather charmed life. Even after the mass cloud appeared his world had continued
to be filled with good people who took care of him, even loved him like their
own. He’d crossed paths with a few mean assholes, but never met anyone he
considered evil. He’d often wondered if he would recognize evil were he to come
face to face with the beast. He wondered no longer.
Kyle was cognizant of the quiet, of how each stroke
seemed to bounce off the white wall of mist and reverberate across the sea.
Would they hear him coming? Did they exist? He kept moving, swimming faster,
harder, cutting through the still waters like a torpedo. The only thing on
Kyle’s
stepping out onto the frozen Strait. True to the military’s boasts, the suit performed
as intended, keeping the frigid temperatures from penetrating through to his
body. If Kyle had had the luxury of observation, he would have thought to
commend the military for a job well done. However, he was focused on putting
one foot in front of the other. Despite what others called a lax lifestyle, he
was in excellent shape. The benefits of good genes and youth, but this was no
jog around the flat track. His full concentration was required.
After two hours of walking and climbing, Kyle’s
agility was being put to the test by the strong winds and by having to navigate
the uneven terrain. Although thankful for not having to swim, the ice was no
cakewalk. Every so often the ice shifted, threatening to throw him off balance.
At one point it succeeded in doing just that and Kyle had to grab for the edge
of an ice sheet to keep from falling into a hole. He hung there for several
seconds before clawing his way up onto a flatter section. Every few feet he’d spot
another opening in the ice, a hole into the abyss below. If he fell into one of
those it wouldn’t be a ‘showstopper’, it would be a ‘game over’. Keeping this
in mind, he picked his way over the ice using extreme caution.
When he worried the rough terrain would never end, the
surface changed from jagged to flat, with no transition to forewarn him. Flat
ground was a gift horse whose mouth he would not look into. Kyle walked on, concentrating
hard on the task at hand. After another thirty minutes, realizing he’d walked
into a thick gray-white mist, he stopped to find his bearings. He was
surrounded. Fog so thick he could barely see his feet, giving the allusion of
walking on a cloud. He pushed on. A half an hour later he heard the sound of
splashing waves ahead. He proceeded slow and easy. Soon he arrived at the edge,
where ice turned to water. A wave splashed up in his face startling him. The
time had come, the true test of his endurance was about to commence. Kyle
removed his regular boots, replacing them with split toe flippers made of the
same material as his body suit. He walked to the edge, took a deep breath and slid
into the water.
Knowing the international relay team took six days to
swim the entire Strait gnawed at him a bit before he’d set out on this quest,
but when doubt threatened to unravel his will, he only had to think about doing
nothing. This thought alone vanquished the most daunting of his fears. The plan
was go, or no other option. A ‘no go’ wasn’t on the table. He couldn’t explain
this to Ada or Will or the many others who tried to talk him out of going.
Sometimes a man had to man-up and do the necessary thing, right or wrong.
As he swam his solitary swim, being tossed about like
a rag doll at times, Kyle thought back to before the great white mass devoured
the United States, back to the last time he had contact with his family. Lost
in thought he hardly noticed the moment when the water ceased pulling him in
every direction. Pausing to take in his surroundings, he looked around at the
thick fog that enveloped him. The waters had turned calm and silent. An eerie
calm that sent a shiver went down his spine. In his short time on Earth he’d
lived a rather charmed life. Even after the mass cloud appeared his world had continued
to be filled with good people who took care of him, even loved him like their
own. He’d crossed paths with a few mean assholes, but never met anyone he
considered evil. He’d often wondered if he would recognize evil were he to come
face to face with the beast. He wondered no longer.
Kyle was cognizant of the quiet, of how each stroke
seemed to bounce off the white wall of mist and reverberate across the sea.
Would they hear him coming? Did they exist? He kept moving, swimming faster,
harder, cutting through the still waters like a torpedo. The only thing on
Kyle’s
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