U-352

The ground Rebecca was standing on used to be a lake. At least that's what she had been told. It had dried up decades ago. The only whisper of water left was the discarded ship, sitting silently in the middle of the wasteland.

Sure, her mother had told her stories passed down from her mother about that time when water flowed all around them. How it had been during the Wars, back when the levels first started dropping and the ships started poking out from the water.

“That’s where they found your necklace," her mother had once told her.

“When your grandfather was just a kid, there was one you could still get to, so he snuck on one night and it was just sitting there.”

Rebecca clawed back through her memories, forcing herself to remember the smile telling the story brought to her Mothers face. She needed this to be how she remembered her. Not the bugs or the manic woman drinking the contaminated water turned her into but her mother sharing a memory with her child.

Rebecca clenched her eyes shut and reached up to touch the heart-shaped locket, and took a step towards the ship. It was hard to believe even then that there was truth behind the words. Hard to believe in a time when water was generous.

Over time, not long after the water lines had been shut down and the sewers dried up, people drifted closer to the lakes. The reemerging ships had become like trading posts. Easy to guard and made of unbreakable materials, the military, of course, claimed them for themselves.

Now abandoned, she prayed with each step that the emergency box was still among the rubble.

The closer she got, the more insignificant her racing mind felt to be.

Thoughts passed through her mind like disappearing echoes. The last couple of days had given her enough time to think and overthink every question it seemed she had about her life and the life of her people.

She would never know why the replacement team decided not to come but could vaguely remember the rumours that floated around the commissary. When a Team much like her own didn't make it home, the powers at be had decided it was a waste of efforts to send a rescue team.

"Contact has been lost," they said.

The truth now clear to her. They sent them out knowing their fate was to boil.

What she did know, she winced as she reached the decrepit ship was the sound a knife made as it cut into the thigh of a friend.

They had made it sound simple back home, straightforward. When and if a member of the team died, you were to honour them and their sacrifice. Collect the meat before the peak of rigour Mortis, and survive. At the very worst, you could wait for the bugs and harvest them.

Her training had taught her when and where to cut but had failed to prepare her mind. The sound of pealing flesh would be embedded in her brain forever.

After the first death, the group had collectively decided it wasn’t worth the time or effort. A silent understanding fell around them that some things are worse than death.

She was able to find comfort in the predictability of what her death looked like now. Her lips had cracked, shattering like glass. The dust floating around her had begun to settle in her throat. Without saliva, it was becoming impossible to speak, swallow and soon breathe.

She found it on her third dig of the week. Being her fifth placement she wasn't expecting much. But the more dirt she moved the more water materialized. It was like a ghost under her shovel.

A puddle at first, the ground darken with moisture. So little, she’d almost missed it.

Now, she wished she had.

By sundown, the group had uncovered what her Captain had classified as a level 2 water source.

Moving the empty crates, she searched the ship and remembered her Captains voice.

“It’s coming from somewhere,” he’d said trying to keep his enthusiasm to a minimum. Finding the water had cast a spell over the group. So much so, the most cynical of them was able to turn a blind eye to the betrayal they were facing when the replacement team missed their first, second and final check-in.

Would it have been better, she thought, her body protesting, as she opened another box if they had come for them? After all, they’d been told the water crisis was humanity's fault. Did they deserve another chance?

She was confident they hadn’t learned from their mistakes and never would.

So why not let them figure out their next step. Find another cave to shove whoever was left in. Preservation at its finest, she thought, laughing at the absurdity of it all, only to have it swallowed by a cough.

It wouldn’t be long now, she thought, looking down into the small box. It was still here. She took a deep breath, proud in the realization that this place wasn’t going to take her, not like the others.

She lifted the pistol, hugging it to her chest. The barrel kissed her chin. She smiled, knowing the secret of the water they’d found would go with her. Closing her eyes, she thought back to her mother and pulled the trigger.