A Life in After World: SoGlog Southfield

By Eric Johnson

Human evolution is put back on track thanks to the Red Sun Millennia causing the failure of all electric-based technology. Only the strongest gene pools and adaptations survive. This is the story of one of those lives in After World.
Glog and his people live on the water in the middle of the gulf. He spends as much time in the water as out of it. He has a unique ability that allows him to breath underwater. He sets out on a quest involving love, war, politics, kidnappings, and snail shells. He must complete an impossible task to help his people and win the hand of the one he loves.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Eric Johnson
• Release date: Nov 2, 2012
• ISBN: 9781301143184

Eric Johnson

Eric Johnson is a veteran who served in the US Army. He currently lives in Baltimore and spends his time to write stories based on his experiences as well as using current events to focus on counter-insurgency as well as other related topics. He also writes limited erotica and steampunk short stories on occasion.

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SoGlog

Eric Darrell Johnson

Copyright ©2013 Eric Darrell Johnson

All rights reserved

ISBN: 978-1301143184

Cover Art by Rafael Rivera

Art Director/ Founder Dylan Brough

Copyright ©2013 Soul Interface Studios • soulinterfacestudios.com

All rights reserved.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

I grew up summers on the beach in Surfside Texas. My Gammy watched over us grand kids to give our parents a break. I loved it and knew the entire island like the back of my hand. I spent many afternoons fishing from the jetties, crabbing in ditches, or just playing in the sand. For my wonderful experiences with her, I dedicate this book, with fondest memories, to my Gammy.

To my wife for her edits and support,

To Brian Corpian for his excellent proof reading,

To my NaNoWriMo write in group that kept me company on some odd November Wednesdays

Thank you

Oneline Resources

http://www.ALifeinAfterWorld.com

http://www.Facebook.com/ALifeinAfterworld

Twitter: @ALifeAfterWorld

Preface

Macy climbed up to the control room. The wind buffeted the stairs, but to her it felt great. A cool front moved down from the states and so long as it did not cause any storms, she looked forward to a very pleasant couple of days. She stopped at the top before going into the booth. She loved this view; water as far as she could see in any direction. Fishing boats swarmed the waters around the rig. Three weeks of longs shifts on Chevron Southfield 24 kept her from doing any of her own fishing. This didn’t matter though since the helicopter arrived the next day she could catch a ride back home for a week.

She opened the door and the wind nearly pushed it out of her hand.

Macy! The control man called to her. Come on in and get out of that wind!

She closed the door behind her and the sudden lack of wind noise made it seem silent in the tower.

Mike, there is a problem with the rotary table. She told him. The Kelly lock won’t disengage.

Pull it out. He stated.

If we get a storm through here, it will—

We will have a new one on the helicopter tomorrow. He interrupted her. And this front is weak. All we are going to see out of it is a wind event. Enjoy it.

How do we get it off with it locked?

Use a hammer or an angle grinder if you have to or pull it up with the drill string and dump that section of pipe.

She nodded and went back for the door. The lights flickered inside the office and went out.

Now what happened? Mike said in a desperate tone. I bet those fools in on deck ran the welder on the wrong circuit again.

Macy pulled her radio from her belt. Hector, Raj, one of you check the breakers. We lost power in the tower.

She released the key on the radio and it did not make the usual moment of static before going silent again. She checked the power and the LED above the switch showed black not red. She turned it on and off a couple of times and it did not come on.

My radio is dead. Macy reached towards Mike.

He pulled his off his belt and handed it over.

She tapped the key on the side a couple of times. Normally when she released the radio key there would be a blast of static. She heard silence instead and noted the black LED light on his radio too.

CRACK! The rig vibrated from what felt like an explosion with an accompanying bright flash of light. Both Mike and Macy raced out of the office and down the stairs.

They looked around for what might be burning and nothing revealed itself. Below the workers were in a panic heading to the offices.

What’s going on? Macy yelled ahead but no one could hear her over their own fracas.

CRACK! Another great flash and explosion... Still it did not look like anything suffered damaged. A smell of ozone hung in the air.

They got inside the office area and everyone talked at once.

Mike whistled loudly which got everyone’s attention.

We need everyone to calm down and tell me what is going on here! Mike said in a commanding voice.

Everyone began talking at once. Another explosion silenced them all at once.

What is going on out there?

One person raised his hand and in a heavy Hispanic accent said one word, Lightning.

Is that it? Macy asked. I thought it was clear out there.

Macy went back out onto the deck. She knew enough not to be scared of lightning on a rig because the entire rig grounded to the sea. A bolt simply passed through the framework and discharged harmlessly into the water.

The wind had actually died down a bit. A crystal blue sky draped over and she did not see a single cloud anywhere.

She walked across the deck and looked up at the wellhead tower. Suddenly everything flashed in bight light and the thunderclap nearly bowled her over. She had not seen a bolt of lightning, only the flash.

She returned to the office.

Sky is perfect blue. She said to Mike. Everyone else hushed and listened to her. It is definitely behaving like lightning but I could not see the bolt. We need to get some power in here so we can radio Surfside so they can tell us what is going on.

Mike turned to the workers present. "Raj and Hector, check the generator. I need everyone to fan out and gather anything battery operated that you can find. Bring your cell phones, cameras, radios, etcetera back here and meet me in thirty minutes.

Come with me. Mike indicated to Macy. We need to go back to the tower.

CRACK!

With the lightning? She said skeptically.

It did not hurt us last time. He stated.

When they got outside they found the air turned stale. All the colors seemed off somehow. Macy could not quite put her finger on it. It seemed like the way a sky would look before you got a tornado back on the mainland, but there were no clouds in this case.

They arrived in the tower without any difficulty and right after they entered the control room another thunderbolt struck. Looking out through the glass they could not see the source for the sound, only a bright flash.

Here. Mike handed her a pair of binoculars and had a pair for himself.

Keep an eye on Exxon, I’ll watch BP. He said to her pointing out the window.

On opposite horizons from Southfield 24 stood other rigs they could see.

Macy looked about the water before sighting in her rig and realized something.

The boats. She said simply.

What about them? Mike asked still watching the BP.

They are still here.

And? He sounded annoyed.

What would you do if you were parked in a boat next to rig getting hit by constant lightning?

He pulled down his binoculars and looked about the waters surrounding the rig. Sure enough all the fishing boats remained. They just made up part of the environment so he never paid them any mind.

I don’t know what is going on with them, but we first need to watch the other rigs. Mike instructed.

Macy sighted in the Exxon rig. What are we watching for?

Anything, lights, signals, boats? Let me know if you see anything out of the ordinary or if they appear to be trying to signal us. He stated.

But we are the ones—

A flash cut her off and then a clap of thunder. She fell backwards in surprise.

There! Mike called out. BP flashed right after we did!

What?

Did Exxon flash? He asked excitedly.

I did not see. She said.

"Right after we flashed, the entire BP rig lit up like a lantern and sent a beam of lightning into the sky.

Up to the sky? She asked.

Yes. Keep watching Exxon. He insisted.

She took sight on the far off rig again. Although nearly twenty miles away, she could see it clearly from her vantage point in the tower with the weather this clear.

I don’t think we are getting hit by lightning. He told her. I think we are making the lightning.

How? She asked keeping her rig in sight.

I don’t know yet. I think the water is charged or something. He told her.

They watched in silence for a bit. Macy almost gave up when she saw it. The entire Exxon rig took up a glow for a moment then it flashed with a great light as a bolt streaked into the sky.

I saw it! She stated excitedly.

CRACK!

One…two…three… Mike started counting immediately after the last clap. There! BP flashed too! He did a quick calculation in his head. The discharge seems to be moving at over thirty times the speed of sound.

What is causing it? Macy felt at a loss.

I don’t know. Mike said. But let’s go check in with the others.

They returned to the offices and everyone gathered. A pile of electronics lay on one of the desks.

Raj, Hector, what did we find out? Mike asked.

Raj stepped forward. There is nothing wrong with the generator. It will turn but it will not start and we don’t have any way to check to see if it is producing electricity.

You get an old gauge?

Raj nodded. I knew digital would not be working so I grabbed an analog except the needle was already moving.

Already moving? Mike asked, flummoxed.

Yes, the gauge needle just bounced around without anything connected to it.

Mike nodded.

What did we gather? Mike asked looking over the collection of electronics. Anything work?

CRACK! The building shook.

Pedro. Go use the manual cutoff for all the propane tanks. He stated. We don’t want those to blow up in one of these blasts.

Anyone have any idea what is going on? Mike asked the group in general.

A worker raised his hand. Everyone looked his way.

Jason, you know? Mike asked.

No, but I found something you should see.

Mike looked at him quizzically. What is it?

Jason signaled Mike to follow him. The two of them cut through the crowd of people and went down the hall towards the kitchen. Just before getting there Jason turned and held the bathroom door open.

Mike went inside but had to stop everyone else from following him. It would have been too crowded in there.

Hold the door open so we can see. Mike said.

Jason shook his head. Close the door so we can see.

What?

Trust me. Jason said.

With the door closed it blackness enveloped them. Mike could not even see his own hand in front of his face.

What are we looking at? Mike queried.

Your eyes need to adjust. Just look at me.

He strained his eyes and kept imagining things in the darkness but could not see anything real.

What are we…? Mike started to say.

Then he saw it. A faint blue light interrupted the blackness. As his eyes adjusted more he could see it better. The light made a straight blue line with a circle at the end.

What am I looking at? Mike asked.

Box end five sixteenths. Was the reply.

Why is it glowing? Mike asked.

Saint Elmo’s Fire. Jason said.

As they stood there and watched it in the dark, the light slowly got brighter. Finally they saw a couple of small sparks jump off of it and then suddenly CRACK! The building shook. The wrench made a clang as it hit the ground.

You okay Jason? Mike said to the darkness.

Yes sir. He replied. It just startled me.

Mike opened the door. Everyone massed at the entrance to the bathroom and on down the hall.

Make way! Mike said as he came out. Everyone cleared him a path and he returned back into the office area.

He stood in center of the people and tried to explain the best he could. The atmosphere appears to be charged for some reason. He told everyone present. What is happening is the oil rig is discharging into the sky. This same charge appears to be interfering with any kind of electricity use.

When will is be over? A voice asked.

Several other people started asking questions too at the same time. Mike had to whistle again to regain control.

We don’t know when it will be over. We need to learn more about it. So far we know that we are not the only ones affected. The other two rigs we can see are discharging too. To learn more, we need to keep track of it. Who has a watch that is still working?

Sounds of dissention rose from the group.

Are there any non-electric clocks anywhere?

Someone raised his hand. I have a wind up travel alarm I used as a backup to my cell phone alarm.

Get it, bring it quickly.

He ran off through the kitchen towards the dormitories.

I need a team of volunteers.

A bunch of hands went up.

It will be very dangerous. Mike qualified it. No one lowered their hands.

You five, he pointed at a clutch of people, any of you engineers?

They all shook their heads.

Good! Mike stated. You are on rescue duty. See to all the boats around the rig. I want them towed in and tied up. Use every bit of safety precaution you can. Do not go out there without a guy wire back to the rig. Understand?

Yes sir! a couple of the people answered in unison. Then the five of them left back out to the deck.

What is wrong with engineers? A small guy raised his hand in question.

Nothing, Mike assured him, I need you guys to do some math.

Crack!

The person returned with the bed clock shouting excitedly, It still works!

Great! Mike said. Go with the engineers. I need you guys to time it. I need to know the exact amount of time in between. Go up to the control tower and get a more exact reading on the difference in time between the other rigs and us. Take the charts with you to get the exact distance between them and give me a precise speed of the event.

Yes sir! and they all piled out.

I need a team to inventory all supplies. Mike said and without instruction a group of four people pulled themselves out of the group and made their way to the larder.

A few people remained.

Go clean up the deck. Make sure that all tools are in their proper places and everything is battened down. He directed these last few.

As the room cleared out, Mike sat heavily in one of the chairs.

Does this qualify for hazard pay? He asked.

Macy laughed a little. Like they don’t pay you enough already.

For something like this, he said, they don’t pay me nearly enough.

Just then the office door came open. Someone he had never seen before stepped in.

What is going on? Mike said as he stood up.

First of the fishermen. Answered a voice behind the new comer.

A couple of more people came in followed by one of his workers. The worker pointed down the corridor. Go make yourselves comfortable in the dining room. Someone will get you some water shortly.

A Hispanic couple and their teenaged son made up the family. They nodded their thanks and disappeared.

What is going on down there? Mike asked.

All the boats are dead in the water. Same as we are.

CRACK! No one reacted to the blast this time.

We are using the flat bottom with paddles to get to them, and pulling them back in with rope. The worker stated.

Mike nodded. The worker went back out on deck. It got darker. The sun sat low on the horizon and casting an eerie orange pallor over everything. Soon the pitch black of the sea would swallow them.

An hour saw a couple of more loads of people pass through the offices. Macy played host and saw that everyone had water and a snack.

Mike stepped out on deck to observe the proceedings. The sun had long since dipped out of sight now but for some reason he could still see. He looked up to the sky and what he saw amazed him, above him in the sky hung the Aurora Borealis. Flashes of blue, pink, purple, and orange made their way as strings across the sky. It all danced some mystical jig. In all his years he had never once see the aurora. He had always been too far south. This far south in the gulf you never saw it except now it gave off enough light he could probably read by it.

He climbed up the tower and found all the engineers huddled over one person who scribbled away on a piece of paper.

What do we know guys? Mike said to the room.

They all looked up at him as if he disturbed some sacred ceremony.

The one doing the scribbling finally spoke up. They are fairly evenly spaced apart at four minutes, 42.6 seconds apart.

Any idea what it is?

Don’t know. Solar storm though is most likely. The lead engineer stated.

Why do you say that? Mike asked.

It’s global. He replied simply.

This raised some hackles with some of the engineers and they argued amongst themselves for a minute before order returned.

I am fairly certain it is global. He stressed the word ‘I’ to qualify that not everyone agreed with him.

How could you tell that from here?

The speed in which they travel is at 34.7 times the speed of sound.

Mike remembered his quick calculation. That sounds right.

Well at that speed it would circumnavigate the globe in fifty-six minutes and 35.4 seconds. The engineer stated.

The engineer holding the clock spoke up. Ten seconds!

Everyone went silent. A couple of people could be seen moving their lips as they counted down.

CRACK! The bolt hit at exactly the predicted time.

But you said they hit every four and a half minutes? Mike said.

Closer to four and three quarters, but yes, each one hits us then. But each twelfth one is hitting us at fifty six minutes and change. The engineer explained.

So you are saying… Mike prompted.

I am saying that there are twelve separate events. The engineer said.

Again the engineers argued.

Mike shushed them and then asked, What do they think if they disagree with you?

Darrel thinks— the lead engineer started.

Darrel interrupted, I can speak for myself. I think it is a localized geological event, a mass of iron in the mantle that became suspended in a superfluid of liquid rock and it is spinning.

You can call it lava Darrel. The lead engineer chided.

Shut up Stan! Darrel countered and then slammed his hand down on the desk. He pulled his hand away to reveal a manual compass. The needle moved back and forth as if someone shook it but it mainly pointed west.

How long till it flips, Mark? Darrel asked.

The timekeeper did a quick calculation in his head. About one minute, 10 seconds.

They all sat in silence staring at the compass needle. After a short time, the needle started to become more erratic and swung in wider arcs. Suddenly it reversed and started pointing to the east in its sweeps.

See? Darrell stated.

Mike considered it.

That would happen under either theory. Stan stated.

This launched the group into another heated debate.

What would cause this? Mike asked the group and everyone went quiet.

Stan finally spoke up, I have a theory but no one else thinks it is valid.

Mike stayed silent, waiting for further explanation.

Well, today was the day that Mercury fell into the sun. He explained. What if it set off some kind of solar storm?

A storm large enough to cause this kind of damage would take more than just a tiny planet falling into the sun! One of the other engineers spoke up.

But what if the sun was at some kind of tipping point? A nuclear balance that just needed some small event to set it off? Stan asked. Then we may see a solar storm the likes of which has not been seen since 1859. Has anyone looked at the sky lately? An aurora this low is caused by a solar event, not a geological one.

Mike had to agree with this theory after seeing the sky for himself. He could see that the engineers could probably fight amongst themselves on this for days. He needed to get them doing something constructive.

Why don’t we sleep on it and in the morning, I have a new project I am going to need help with. Mike suggested.

Everyone seemed to agree and piled out of the tower.

Downstairs in the dormitory an entirely new problem existed. People packed in tightly like sardines.

How many people do we have here? He asked one of his workers.

We have pulled forty people from the water so together we have sixty three people to bunk. The worker informed him.

Put people in the dining room if you have to, or on the desks in the office. Mike instructed. I think I will go sleep in the tower.

Can you sleep that close to the thunder? Macy appeared next to him.

He shook his head. Not that it is any quieter down here.

She agreed.

As he headed out to the deck again he noticed her following.

Where you heading? He asked her.

She pointed to the tower. Too many strangers down here for me. I get a bit agoraphobic with that many people.

He nodded and started up the steps.

They sat in silence in the control room and eventually managed to fall asleep.

Mike woke not by a thunderclap, he had gotten used to those, but by the sunrise. As the sun rose higher on the horizon, it no longer shone yellow but burned an angry red.

Well, that is going to settle Stan’s argument. He said to himself as he got up.

He heard footsteps running up the stairs. He walked over to Macy and shook her shoulder lightly. She came to when Jason entered through the control room door.

They are leaving! He burst out as he came in.

Who is leaving? Macy asked groggily.

Some of the fisherman and even a few workers! Jason said breathlessly. You need to come stop them!

Where are they going to go? We are too far from anywhere. Mike asked.

They are talking of making a flotilla of the boats and setting adrift.

That is stupid. If we get rescued, no one will be able to find them. Mike stated.

I know. Come on! Jason stated and then disappeared from the door.

Mike chased down the stairs after him and Macy followed not far behind. They went to the edge of the deck and entered one of the legs. Inside contained another set of stairs that took them down to water level. As they emerged back into the light below Mike saw all the boats tied off to the rig. Anglers and workers alike swarmed over them to pull them closer and tie them together.

You have to stop this madness! Mike called out over the group. We need to stay here and wait for rescue!

We will be out of food in two days, sir. One of his workers addressed him. If we strike out then at least we will be going somewhere instead of waiting here to starve.

How could we starve with an ocean of fish around us? Mike questioned.

They kept working at lashing the boats together.

We will need water too. The worker finally countered. Can’t drink sea water.

We will ration and collect rain water. Mike countered.

We can do the same on the boat! The arguer rebutted.

Nonsense! Mike frothed. We stay, we wait. People know where we are, they will send help.

An unseasonably cool breeze blew across the group. Mike felt a shiver.

If we go, then we will increase our chances of survival! We have to drift to land in one direction or another from here. It is a gulf!

You could be drifting for months; you know nothing of currents if you think you are going to drift straight to land. Mike tried to reason with them.

They provided no answer. They continued to work. Behind him someone came out of the rig leg carrying a couple of cases of water bottles.

No! Mike commanded. You will not be taking our supplies on your foolish journey.

CRACK! The air sounded heavy with that bolt of thunder. Another gust of cool air cut across them.

The worker that argued with Mike stepped off of the boat and walked right past to the person carrying the water. He took the cases from them and told them to go get more.

Mike floundered. He started to say something then stopped. Suddenly he turned back towards the stairs back up.

Be right back. He said to Macy.

The long climb to the