"God Vibration"

Tuesday, Phil thought, dragging his hands over his face, rubbing his eyes. He sat up. The fluorescent light above him flickering. He stretched, raising his arms above his head and stretching his legs which popped audibly.

He rose from the cot, pulling on his worn jeans and gray thermal. "Good morning, Haven." The commanders' voice boomed over the crumbling pa system. Phil went about brushing his teeth in, staring at his reflection in the foggy mirror.

"As you are aware, today is Harvest day," Phil spat into a bucket beside the basin. Wiping his mouth on his shirt sleeve. "As a reminder, every citizen of Haven must do their part, without exception. Group B, I wish you a blessed and fruitful harvest." Phil sat at the table and laced his boots. The strings were new; he had traded for them last Friday. He had also gotten a few new buttons, a new bottle to hold water, and three squares of chocolate.

Small pleasures were valuable in Haven, and thieves abounded. He'd eaten half of the first square immediately, letting it melt along his tongue. He'd hidden the rest of it beneath his pillow on his bunk.

Standing, Phil made his way to the mess hall; breakfast consisted of runny porridge and a glass of filtered water. Tasteless fuel for his body, he cleared his plate quietly.

"Remember cinnamon?" asked the woman across from him said. What was her name? Phil had met her before. "Been two years now, hasn't it?" the woman... Aisling, that was it. Phil thought suddenly.

"Yes, I remember," Phil said. Pushing his tray towards the end of the table. " If we lived in Sri Lanka, we would have a better chance of getting cinnamon."

A man said from the other end of the table. Paul turned to look at him; he had long brown hair and a pair of square black-framed glasses perched upon a narrow, slightly hooked nose. "You see, cinnamon comes from the inner bark of its tree and then dried and ground into a powder, names Albert." The man as he shuffled down the bench toward Aisling and Phil.

"Know a lot about plants, do you, Albert?" Aisling said, twirling her spoon in her mostly untouched porridge. " Yeah, I was a horologist in the life before," Albert said. Pushing his glasses further up his nose.

He was green, Phil thought likely someone new who lived in the dust lands. "First harvest day?" Phil asked.

"Yes," Albert said, his fingers pulling at the sleeves of his shirt that was too big for him.

"Have you been out in the dust all this time then?" Aisling asked, pushing her tray away. Bowl still mostly full. She had the spoon in her mouth, dragging the metal against her teeth. All Phil could hear were the sounds of metal against enamel. The sound crawled under Phil's skin. He felt his posture stiffen. "Yes, I was living in an apartment in the South of..."

"Stop," Paul, somewhat louder than he meant to. "Boston," Albert said in a surprised breath. "What?" Aisling said, pulling the spoon from her mouth, raising her eyebrow, and cocking her head at Phil. "Oh, that's right, don't you worry, Albert. He wasn't talking to you. You see, Phillip over here was an oral surgeon in life before. Can't stand it when I play with the silverware." Aisling said, taping the spoon against her teeth for effect. The sound made Phil flinch.

"Is that right?" Albert asked. "Yes," Phil said.

Standing and making his way toward the ark bay.

"He is also an amiable man," Aisling said, wiggling her eyebrows at Albert. "Time to get a move on, Dusty." She said, getting from the table and following after Phil.

Phil boarded the Ark taking his usual seat and strapping himself into his chair. The ark hull swayed as others of group B boarded.

"Good morning Group B, today we are going to be in Cohasset; Group A had great success there Last Friday. We are not expecting a lot of action today as reports of Sparks are down as they have seemed to have lost interest in the area. As always, be prepared for any situation. If you are a greeny, you should stick with our Haven Veterans as closely as you can."

One of the militants said. At the same time, he was pacing up and down the rows of seats of the Ark.

" You have each been outfitted with a standard emp pistol and on back up round of ammunition. Use these as sparingly as you can in the event of an attack."

Phil looked at his boots and their brand new laces; the leather was worn and cracking around his toes. "After we land in Cohasset, you will be broken up into teams of three; you have four hours to gather all the supplies you can carry. If you are not back at the pickup time, you will be left in the Dust." With that, the militant walked to the arks back shutter door, his footsteps loud as he crossed the metal floor.

" Not to worry, Al," He heard Aisling whisper. "The militants do this twice a week, same speech, but he's more twitchy when there are Sparks out there."Phil glanced over at the pair of them, Aisling with her blonde hair sticking out in all different directions. He did not doubt that her hair was bleached. She must have connections in laundry, Phil thought.

The ark ride to Cohasset was swift, Phil's belly twisted with the force of arks propulsion engines. He felt the oatmeal slide up his throat. The sounds of retching rang in his ears as he swallowed his breakfast back down.

The Ark touched down with a screeching halt. Phil was grateful for the harness that was locking him into his chair. "Alright, Haven Group B, unstrap get your land legs time starts in 5 minutes." The militant barked as the shutter flung itself open and sunlight ripped into the hull of the Ark.

Phil felt someone's hand at his shoulder when he stood. Instinctively he whirled around, ready to attack his hand flying to the EMP pistol on his hip. "Easy there, tiger!" Aisling said, a broad smile across her face. She had a gap between her front top teeth. They were otherwise symmetrical and very white. Veeners maybe. Phil thought, loosening his grip on his pistol.

"Tense already? Not a spark, insight last Friday. No need to be so jumpy, okay there, Philly?" Aisling said, dropping her hand from his shoulder. "Fine," Phil said, relaxing his shoulders. "Right then, Al and I will be joining you then." Phil scanned Albert, who looked as pale as the sheets on his bunk but not nearly as worn. He looked as if he could easily rip.

"I usually work alone," Phil said as they started walking towards the shutter, trying to pick up his pace to send the right message to both Aisling and Albert.

"Yes, right, I know that Phil, however today, you will be teaming up with us."

Phil stopped once they reached the Dust outside. "Fine, but we work quietly and efficiently. Any sign of a spark you find cover, you don't give away our position, you don't scream, you don't get trigger happy." He said, pointing his finger mostly at Albert.

"You see, Albert, I think he likes us already," Aisling said. Nudging a frozen Albert in the shoulder. Who nodded quickly, his throat constricting as he gulped.

"Alright, let's go," Phil said, turning to look at the Dust that was once called Cohasset. It looked like all the rest of the Dust. Cars back to back lined the streets, ash marks from fires long since burned out.

"I just got away from all this. It's too soon to be back." Albert said, voice shaking with fear.

Phil began walking along the sidewalk. Rocks crunching underneath his boots. His eyes scanned as much of the Dust in front of him as he could. Looking up, Phil saw a sign swinging in the wind.

Anchor and Sail general store. "Here," Phil said cocking his head quickly in the direction of the store.

"It's alright, Alby, bet we will find a bunch of wine in there, have ourselves a drink when we get back to Haven, and you can tell me all about cinnamon trees or any other plant you want. Alright?" Aisling said, a reassuring grin on her face.

Albert seemed to be bolstered by this standing a little stronger and heading up the steps of the Anchor and Seal. "I can be quite persuasive when I want to be P, was a life coach in the life before," Aisling said, patting Phil's shoulder as she passed him on the stairs.

"Why does that make sense?" Phil asked her back, following her up the stairs and into the store.

The french doors windows were all shattered, the glass crunching underneath his boots. Phil pulled his pistol from its holster, holding it firmly at his side as he passed through the doors.

A fire had broken out it here at some point. The smell of ash was overwhelming his sense. Aisling was trailing after an increasingly worried-looking Albert.

Phil made his way over to some shelves on the opposite side of the goods. Opening his pack and shoved bag after bag of expensive pasta into his rucksack along with a few jars of olives and some marinated peppers.

Further along the shelves, he found crackers and chips and Italian biscuits. He smiled at the find something sweet meant for good trades.

"Bingo!" he heard Aisling screech. Phil reached down and grabbed the biscuits cursing under his breath as he zipped his bag shut. He had dropped the biscuits at the sharp sound.

He heard giggling. "You see, growing grapes in warmer soil is better for grapes; you need to... water them frequently all along for the first year, you see." He heard Albert saying.

"What the FUCK are you doing?" Phil said, taking in the scene around him. Aisling and Albert were sitting at a half dozen bottles of wine opened on the table before them.

"We were having a drink, and Albert was telling me all about the proper way to grow grapevines before he was so rudely interrupted," Aisling said. The last half of the word came out of her mouth with her tongue against her front teeth.

Albert took another swig of wine into his mouth. His cheeks had gone ruddy.

"You've got to be kidding me! Now is most definitely time for a drink and a chat!" Phil hissed at them. Taking bottles off of the table in frustration and pouring them out in a nearby sink.

"Listen, you out to lighten up there haven't been sightings of Sparks here in four weeks," Aisling said, giving Phil a meaningful stare.

Walking towards him with a dramatic swing of her hips, a wine bottle held out. " Have a drink Philly, just a little one. This place is brimming, and we all have full packs more than enough to satisfy our obligation to Haven." Aisling said, smiling softly at him. "Come on, when was the last time you even tasted the wine, hmm Philly? Aisling asked, tilting her head and batting her eyelashes at him.

"Won't hurt a thing. We won't tell a soul, will we, Al?" Aisling said. "NO, no, not a soul!" Al said, hiccuping. Phil looked at the wine, gold liquid inside a clear bottle. His throat suddenly dried at the thought of having a sip. Part of him argued a tiny glass would hurt nothing. She was right. The other part of him screamed that vigilance survival was more important than pleasure.

As he stared at the bottle in Aisling's hands, he noticed something, ripples. "Come on, teeth, man," Aisling whined. "Quiet," Phil barked, his eyes trained on the wine. He placed his hands down on the sink, "Do you feel that?" Phil's heart started racing. "Feel what? What are you talking about?" Aisling said, "Vibrations" Phil dropped down to his knees as soon as the blast came through the windows. Crawling behind the counter as his head ringing and spots blurring his vision.

He heard them then the beeps and clicks that made up the Sparks language. "No, don't, please." Phil heard Albert say. A sharp snapping noise followed that Phil knew to be Al's neck.

Phil breathed slow and deeply into his lungs. He was praying for silence for cover for Al. Phil listened closely to the beeps and clips, trying to picture their position in the room with him, counting metal footsteps that clacked across glass and hardwood.

Five, he thought, there were five of them. He was done if they found him first, for he only had fifteen rounds. His hard pounded against his chest as he made it to the end of the counter, bracing himself against it. There were two to his left less than 6 feet from him, another three near the fractured side of the building and Al's body. Aisling had been close to him, but he had not heard a peep from her. In the open, the glass and wood probably killed her on impact.

Phil peered around the corner, nerves betraying him as his hand shook around his pistol, sweat dripping down his forehead. Normal combat sparks were near the entrance to the grocery side of the store. Al's body lay at their feet, his glasses cracked and lying sideways on his face, his neck twisted unnaturally to the side.

Bile rose in his throat. Fuck fuck fuck, Phil thought, squeezing his eyes shut and focusing on the task at hand. Two shots rang out clear and sharp and close. Phil taking the moment, fired three rapid shots out and into the skulls of the distracted sparks. Whirling quickly to the side of him where the other two had been, he fired once twice wildly in their direction. Saying a silent prayer and pulling out his pistol, Phil turned about to face his inevitable death.

"Nearly killed me!" Aisling shouted at him. Phil's head spun."Alive? How are you?" Phil stammered confusion, swirling inside him. "Oh yeah, well, I forgot to mention I am a wonderful shot," Aisling said.

"Unbelievable," Phil said, shaking his head. Her forehead was bleeding. And she was covered in Dust, but she was alive alright.

"Oh boy, we've got incoming Aisling said, running to his side. It looks like a Patrol unit, I say we make a break before it lands. What about you teeth, boy? " Sparks were landing on the street outside, slamming down as they jumped from their airlifts.

Phil felt strange; the world in front of him looked like it was rippling, like a pebble thrown into a pond.

"Staying then?" Aisling said, smile growing broader by the second. "A dangerous one you are, aren't you, Teeth man?" she said. As a bit of the building blew apart at the blasts from the Sparks canon. Phil wanted to speak but he couldn't something was very wrong here. Suddenly music was in the air around him.

"I-I love the colorful clothes she wears

And the way the sunlight plays upon her hair

I hear the sound of a gentle word

On the wind that lifts her perfume through the air"

I'm pickin' up good vibrations

Aisling flew into action firing round after round at the Sparks as Phil sat frozen.

She's giving me the excitations (oom bop bop)

I'm pickin' up good vibrations (good vibrations, oom bop bop)

She's giving me the excitations (excitations, oom bop bop)"

Suddenly everything went black, that's it I've died. Phil thought. "Mr.Abelson, the demo is over, sir. It may take a moment to come back to us. Feel free to take a rest, and please let us know how you felt about our newest altered reality experience at your exit survey."