
âThatâs Manhattan.â
Ruth nodded toward the orange glow on the horizon.
Hugo held onto the rail because the seas were rough. And because he needed to hold onto something.
âDoes that mean the city is gone?â
âNo, I donât think so. They would have hit downtown first, the financial district. Then central city. No need to destroy the boroughs. Thatâll come later. Maybe with a ground assault. Maybe with something larger.â
âHow about home?â
âThey're not there yet. Probably have cells in place, to start the dirty work from inside. Theyâll know where the police and administrative centers are located. Take them out first.â
âDo you think other people left?â
âIâm sure they did. There's Farmingdale, with all those private planes. But planes make clear targets, easy to shoot out of the sky. Blow up an airfield. That'd probably be one of their first hits. Also, a plane needs a landing strip, and the range isnât too good. Boats, like ours, not too large, thatâs the safest bet.â
Hugo glanced at his mother.
âHow long have you been planning this? Why were you so ready?â
The sixteen-year-old had been a big help in getting everyone out of the house and onto the boat. There had been signs of his mother's intentions since at least a year ago. He knew they had a short wave radio. Heâd been playing around with it for months, but had no idea the radio was part of a grand scheme. His mother had heard from her radio contacts in South Korea and Taiwan that afternoon. Missiles were on the way.
Ruth paused for a moment, before responding.
âRemember the first war, with Iran? Thatâs when I knew weâd probably be in trouble, someday. I saw we were increasingly isolated. China was strengthening its alliance with Russia, Iran and North Korea. We showed no strategic positioning. We were expending vast amounts of our military hardware. It seemed risky to me. So I started to plan. Just in case.â
âThe boat?â
âOh, yeah. You all thought I was nuts, paying $70,000 for a used trawler. But I did my research. Thatâs a solid boat. Stable in the ocean, suitable for extended voyages.â
âSo all those weekend trips, that cruise to Bermuda...training?â
âTraining and fun. We did have fun, didnât we? And your grandfather was able to enjoy it all.â
She turned her head toward the cabin. Her father was resting there. Heâd found the hurried trip to the boat difficult. He was ready, though, remarkably calm. Heâd asked about provisions and about the ammo on the way to the boat. Even though he was arthritic, he was prepared to help, to fight for the family if necessary.
âSo where are we headed?â
âRemember that island we cruised to last summer, off the Maine coast? Small, rocky, but isolated? You didnât like it too much âŚâ
She stopped talking suddenly and looked up. Jets, streaming high overhead in the direction of the orange-glowing horizon.
âAre they going to shoot us?â
Hugo turned pale as he asked this question.
âNo. Not now. They have a mission. Theyâre not looking for small boats like ours. In a week maybe, two weeks, theyâll do clean up. But weâll be long out of the water by then.â
More jets overhead, loud, lower in the sky. Ruth was not as confident as she sounded. She could only guess at the priorities of the invaders. How visible was the boat? Was it too small for them to bother with? She remembered the boats her own government had shot out of the water a few years before. They were no larger than hers.
âGo check on the pets and your sister. You're taking over when I rest. The course is plotted. Follow the charts and youâll be fine. Weâve practiced so many times.â
âHow long will we be away? I donât think we have enough provisions hereâŚâ Hugo stopped himself from saying more. He didnât want to be negative, to put more on his motherâs shoulders.
âThose two weeks I went away, last April? I didnât go to Chile, to the Atacama Desert. I wasnât on a dig, looking for fossils. I went to the island, by myself, with a boatload of provisions. Itâs all set up like a survivalist camp. Food, shelter, fuel. Itâs waiting for us.â
Hugo stared at his mother.
âHow certain were you this would happen?â
âThings werenât good. For a few years there had been a steady decline in our national security. Increasing unrest at home. I wasnât sure if the trouble would come from outside or inside. And if it didnât come, then weâd have a great boat. You learned how to shoot, how to navigate, how to camp. And that island...someday you and your sister could take your kids there. Teach them how to camp. No loss. A win win all around.â
Another set of jets overhead. He tried not to look up. If his mother was confident, then he was confident. He realized this was no time to be scared. It was a time to act. He went down into the cabin. His sister jumped up from her seat.
âWhereâs Mom? Is everything alright? Is something wrong?â
He smiled and tugged a lock of her bangs.
âNow, Elgy, you know Mom can handle anything, and she always takes us on these cruises. Her surprises, trips to nowhere. Except this time we're going to our very own island. What an adventure. You take care of the pets. They get nervous on the boat.â
Elgy hugged the dog.
âOK. I love our boat rides. I think it'll be a lot of fun.â
Hugo smiled and chucked the dog under the chin.
âOh yes. This is going to be fun.â
He walked into the hold and started counting the rounds of ammunition. He thought of the orange horizon and the jets overhead.
Then he checked himself. No. Can't think about that. His mother was at the helm. His sister and grandfather were in the cabin. He knew how to use a gun. They'd be fine.
The Story Behind the Collage
This collage was made in response to the template offered by LMAC's 251st contest. Current events were on my mind when I looked at the template. I didn't see a sunset. I saw a fiery horizon. I saw war. Here is the template.

I went about finding different elements to share what I saw. There was boat on fire. And planes. A cityscape burning. Here are the elements I borrowed, some from Pixabay and some from Unsplash.
Boat Photo by Jeffrey Zhang on Unsplash
Some of the elements I added myself, mostly fire and smoke effects.
I also utilized a filter from Lunapic, to show a burning scene.
I used GIMP and Paint 3D to manipulate the elements.
The story was born even before the picture. They go together. I imagined myself on that boat.
LMAC and LIL
Making this collage and writing the story were a great release for me. I highly recommend the exercise. We at LMAC are eager, truly eager to view collages created by anyone on Hive. The collages may be created for the contest, or they may be free form.
If you use an image from our LIL library you receive extra consideration. Also, if you use these images in another community and add the tag LIL to you post, you will receive an upvote from LMAC. The image library at LIL was created entirely by Hive bloggers. Procedures for borrowing from and contributing to LIL may be found here, on @shaka's blog.
Thank you for reading my blog.
Peace and health to all.
Hive on!
This was an excellent story. You know how fond I am of an apocalypse scenario. How the current situation feeds into our speculative imagination and how close and believable a situation like this feels right now. I love the bond between mother and son and the trust he has in her. And I love how it's a women too that's capably at the helm, so to speak, of her family's survival. I want more
Thank you very much!
This was easy to write, because I live so close to a boat harbor that feeds into the Atlantic Ocean. My daughter and I often say we need a boat for emergencies because there is really no way off of Long Island except a couple of narrow roadways. Big enough boat for the pets and everyone (not a $70,000 trawler đ).
As for the women taking charge...I grew up without a father (or rather with a dreadful deadbeat father, absent) so women were always the strong ones in my family. I never wait for a man to do something. I just jump in and do what has to be done.
I'm so happy you liked this, because you certainly do know writing :)
I loved it, and hope @honeydue catches it as well.
They say you write best about what you know - no wonder you had a woman at the helm! Mind you, I think all of my central characters are women. I can't imagine what it would be like to be a man. Besides, I always loved the idea of kickass women with big boots in any apocalypse.