Challenge #1 - New Beginnings

I ended up not starting until today. Yesterday was hectic. *sob*

Anyway. Background on this prompt is that "New Beginnings" encouraged me to think about a novel that I was working on back in 2010. It's still in progress (because of a lengthy haitus due to lack of grout to fill those damn plot holes) but now it's back on the radar. The novel is about a detective in a dystopian future who tries to drown himself, only to find that he wakes up alive in an underwater city that has been flourishing despite the problems on Earth. And it's in trouble. And he has to help.

*Kind of spoiler-y* This scene is a spark from the end of the novel, when Leo and a girl he has saved, finally make it back to the surface. :)

Picture by Sugarock99

#1 - New Beginnings

The hand that enveloped her own was large and warm. Her tiny fingers curled against his palm as he held on tightly; they didn’t look at each other. His eyes were closed. The craft rose and rose and Jemima held her breath. There was a bubble of worry in her stomach that seemed to be growing with every second. She swallowed hard.

The whole front of the pod that protected them from the inky black water was made of glass. She realised now that she had been looking at things through glass her entire life. She forced her eyes to open wider, fear spiking as she realised that the blackness was blueness,  was greyness and greenness - and there was light.

Light.

Real, wan, pale sunlight. Jemima let out a long gasp from between her chapped lips, unable to contain the panic that coursed through her core. She was suddenly aware of what was in store for her; in fits and starts she began to realise that the future was terrifying. Sunlight and people who never knew where she had come from. Would they have houses like hers? Would they have faces and bodies and hands like the people she had always known?

The small girl closed her eyes so tightly that she saw spots. Then she looked at Leo. His eyes were still closed, his face a complex mass of fear and concern and peace. Just like hers. She flexed her fingers and waited.

“It will be okay, Jemima,” he said softly. “You’ll see that it’s not so bad. It’s not so fancy, not so like you’re used to - but... It’s okay.”

“I’m not scared.” Her lips trembled even as she said this. Leo tried to smile.

“You’re a brave little girl.”

He looked away again, back towards the glass and the filtering greenish grey that slipped over them both. Jemima pulled her hand away from him, moved closer to the glass. She was beginning to make out shapes in the gloom now; fish and flotsam floating aimlessly away from their progress. The craft was almost without sound as it glided upwards, a miracle of engineering.

For the first time in her life she was glad for her father’s selfishness. It had allowed them a future. Future. The word was tainted, even before she had the chance to say it aloud. She couldn’t dare to let herself think of what they were leaving behind.

“Will it be so very different?” she asked softly, pressed her palms against the glass. “Will I...?”

“You will adapt, Jemima.” Leo let his hand rest softly on her shoulder and sighed. “If you have to be like your father in any way, be like him in that. Just don’t -” He let out a long breath and then tipped her chin upwards with the palm of his hand. His eyes were murky, like the sea surrounding them, and watering with the sorrow he was pressing beneath his kind words. “Whatever you do, sweetheart... Just don’t forget her. Okay?”

“No.” Jemima shook her head. She could see everything, the cloudy grey water and above them now - clouds. Real clouds and sunshine and birds. Air. “I won’t let that happen.”

“Good.”

Leo, suddenly breaking away from her, stepped to the front of the pod. A short, sharp bark of laughter escaped him.

“Good lord!” he cried. “I never expected to see this place again. Jemima, look!”

He pointed. Far off to their left there was a coastline. They were bobbing on the surface now, teetering slowly in this direction. There were buildings - or remains of buildings. She had never seen such architecture, never see such silver as it shone in the sunlight. She let out a yelp of excitement, fear, surprise, everything all mixed into one. Perhaps there was some happiness in there too.

“What - what is it called?”

Her voice was so soft that at first she didn’t think he had heard her. After a long minute of silence, Leo finally spoke.

“London.”

Together they stood on the brink of the future, the ocean swelling beneath them in rolling crescents. To Jemima the waves were a sign of this new beginning; their rising and falling was a power she had never before seen. The sun was just rising in a pale dawn over London, highlighting here and there the glass windows of old towering office blocks. She drew a breath. She could almost feel the breeze on her cheeks. Almost.

“Ready?” Leo asked.

He held out his hand.

Jemima took it in her own, letting his fingers close around her own. She nodded.

“Yes, Leo. I think so. I think I want to... Oh, lord.”

He said nothing, and they held together and shuddered as the pod ground onto the shore. The sand was so yellow Jemima swore she had never seen anything like it. And of course, she realised, she hadn’t.

Words: 817.