Monoliths of stone sail across the horizon. Deep canyons snake through the desert sea. They ride the wave of the land, cresting and dipping down over the immense expanse. As far as the eye can see, there are signs of a bygone world. One that had been long lost to the passage of time. Now it is being rekindled.
Green boxes guide the way, passing by every mile. The two are in a car, protected from the blazing heat of the outside world. Music blares through the speakers. Tunes that were made for driving resonate throughout the interior. Her hair flows back and forth as she moves to the groove of the music. He drives. One arm resting atop the steering wheel, the other on the armrest of the door.
The destination is approaching. This is the last hope for them. They had traveled for several days to reach this point, one more crest of the distant road and they would see it on the newly revealed horizon — the island in the sky.
They had won authorization to move to the last haven of America. The coastal cities are all submerged by this point. The ocean is moving inland faster every year. Mass migration is taking place, millions of displaced people are moving further and further from the coast. The slums are of stark contrast to the decades prior. People aren’t used to living in squalor, especially in America.
She sees the final sign on the side of the road, Sanctuary: 5 miles. They will be there in a matter of minutes. Their journey led them from the east half of America to the west half, sailing across a vast inland sea via ferry. The entire journey from where they started to Sanctuary has taken four days — the longest four days of her life.
Darron is a doctor and worked at the largest refugee camp in the midlands, the Ozarks. That is soon to be underwater as well. The scientists are giving it three more years. She is an earth systems scientist studying the rising sea. Their skillset allowed them to stay outside of the centre of camp where the disease, crime, and unrest was highest. Even as some of the most high ranking civilians in Camp Ozark, life was not easy for them. The food shortages were frequent and the access to power was usually limited to system critical operations.
It is the dream of all refugees to win the right to move to Sanctuary. You could escape the reality of a sinking world and move to a place you knew wouldn’t get engulfed by the ocean. This is that place. It isn’t going to be all leisure, however. Everyone in Sanctuary is there for a purpose. They have ”value to bring to the future”.
They are coming up to the last hill. He looks at her and she returns a smile. It is their time. Before them sits a city resting on one of the tallest mesas in Utah. It is almost two-thousand feet higher than Salt Lake City. People still live in Salt Lake, but they are on borrowed time. The sea level is going to rise to at least five-thousand feet, based on pre-rise elevation. Salt Lake has a decade or two left in it. Sanctuary, however, is above it all — almost six-thousand feet in pre-rise elevation. It is going to get to the base of the mesa, but not any higher.
Glass towers rise from the top of the mesa like crystalline formations in a cave, glimmering in the harsh sun. The city is entirely self-sufficient with the most cutting edge biotech and agrotech developments. At the base of the mesa, checkpoints and watchtowers litter the landscape. Many try to break their way in from time to time but are sent to the worst of the nearby refugee camps when caught. It is almost a fate worse than death. Only those authorized can get in.
She opens the glove box and pulls out a stack of papers. The checkpoint is coming up. A twenty-foot high chain-linked fence wraps the mesa for as far as the eye can see. Barbed wire coils are fixed to the top of the fence and concrete barriers are littered around them. Several totaled vehicles are smashed into the barriers, bullet holes fill them. The National Guard has held this city for the last decade with no successful break-ins.
Part of her is saddened by this thought. Those people just want a better life. It is a harsh reality to get used to. Now, there truly are shortages of resources and land. It is about the survival of the species and collateral is inevitable. When people are pushed to the limits a new form of brutality comes out. A brutality that will “condemn the future of all life”. If Sanctuary falls, there is “no hope”. The people there are the “best chance” to help humanity survive.
As they are approaching, the guardsman shouts over the speaker system, “Pull over to the inspection area. Do not come any closer or we will be forced to fire!”
They are prepared for this. According to the briefing, the inspection area is an empty lot near the gate. It is marked with a sign of a white diamond. She sees it and motions for him to turn right.
After coming to a stop, a squad of guards approaches them. They have their weapons raised and seem threatened. She places the authorization letter against the window with urgency. Darron mutters, “Stay calm and move slowly.”
“We have authorization!” she yells out. “We are on the list!”
The guards look at each other and lower their weapons. The tension wisps away with the wind and the guards approach more calmly.
“Get out of the vehicle, please,” one commands.
“You ready?” she asks.
“You bet,” Darron responds.
As they get out, the guards move in to inspect the vehicle for weapons, bombs, and smuggled individuals. One guard approaches them and performs a thorough pat-down of the two. It was slightly uncomfortable, but it is protocol. After the guards finish scanning the car, they regroup in front of the two.
“Let’s see the papers,” one demands.
She hands them over. “We were authorized a week ago. We just had to get our things in order and make our way.”
“We haven’t seen anyone new in a while,” a guard admitted. “We thought they were done authorizing more. Just let me call this in.”
He reaches for the radio attached to his vest. As he does this a shot rings out. He raises his head and the bullet impacts. A sniper. Dozens of shots ring out. Before the guards can radio in or even understand what is happening, they are falling limp into the concrete. Pools of blood form around them. She and Darron look at each other.
“We’ve got to get Pat and the boys some beers for those shots,” she joked.
He responded, “I bet they have plenty up there.”
The act is up. The time is theirs. They turn back to the hill they had crossed just five minutes ago and see a wall of dust billowing toward them. The subtle roar of engines can be heard, echoing in the distance. As the dust cloud gets closer, they see hundreds of war vehicles ready to break down the wall and put up a fight.
She runs to the dead bodies and collects a rifle and ammo. Darron follows. As she takes a bulletproof vest off of one, she takes a moment to reflect. At one point, she believed in Sanctuary. The vision was one of hope. That hope died with half of the Ozarks. That hope died with half of the country. Sanctuary was never a place of hope. It was just a place for the rich to escape. The ones whose greed caused the problems of the world to begin with. They thought they would be safe on their island in the sky. The waters of the sea might not crash into them, but the wave of justice would.
