Waking to the lull of waves against the massive aircraft carrier was a blessing. A break from the constant yells of children and haggling of adults for supplies. The Vigil was self reliant, a whole ecosystem blooming under the deck with trees sprouting from the weakened panels of the aircraft’s old runway. Grass grew in between the metal cracks and fruit trees sprouted up in certain places.

Ghost rolled over on his pallet, covering his face with his eyes as the eerie silence of the early morning comforted his wary mind. Despite the silence, he had a migraine already. Grunting softly, he sat up and palmed his face. The softness of the grass under his palette cradled his sore body, welcoming him into the awake world. Tired eyes opened, dark brown hazed over in constant exhaustion. He got up, pushing himself off the palette and standing. His legs protested, aching and burning like acid sliding along his skin.

Ghost exhaled, eyes closing as he breathed slow. The world faded in and out, and he felt like he was underwater. It was serene, peaceful.

And then alarms started to blare.

He jerked upright, eyes snapping open again as he got up and left his tent. People were telling about a ship approaching, and woman were panicking while holding there children closer.

He pushed through the throng of anxious bodies, his heart racing as adrenaline coursed through him. Ghost could see the unease etched in the lines of the leaders forehead, a mirror of the tension brewing in the air.

“What’s happening?” Ghost barked, trying to keep his voice steady despite the rising panic in the crowd.

Ezekiel, one of 3 healers, pushed through to Ghost and the leader. “They aren’t answering radio, no markings. It’s too small to be much of a threat.” He gives a run down. Ghost nods faintly, raising a hand to his eyes and squinting against the sun. The smaller boat seemed to be empty, lulling gently in the waves as it bumped against the ship. He narrowed his eyes, peering down over the decaying railings.