Welcome To Zero Zone: What Would You Do If The Ozone Layer Started Shrinking Every Year? (Chapter 1 and 2, sci fi)

Hey steemit,

Ths is the start of my novel Zero Zone, which takes place in a world where the ozone layer is shrinking every year. But as it is shrinking at a different rate each year, no one knows how much longer they have. The story starts when plane travel is coming to an end, and people have decided where they want to spend their last years. I'm hoping to release the novel here exclusively for six months and start a kickstarter campaign, but that will depend on interest.

Thank you to everyone who is checking it out.

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Chapter 1      

Sandra jolted forward as the plane skid across the landing.  All that kept her in was her seat belt, which twisted and dug into her skin..  It would hurt later, after the fear had subsided.  Beside her a large gentleman grabbed the breathing apparatus that dangled before him.  Deep breaths.  Sandra closed her eyes as the plane came to a complete spot.  She chuckled to herself as a thought came to her.  To die on the last plane that would ever leave the ground.      

“Are you alright?” Sandra asked the man beside her.      

He took another deep breath with closed eyes.  Then, opening them, nodded.  Sandra returned the nod with a smile before placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. His breathing slowed.  He nodded again, slower.     

The speaker crackled above her, “This is pilot Edward Tarp.  You have safely landed in Toronto, Canada.  Thank you for flying with us.  I have been flying planes for my whole life and wanted to say it has been an honour.  Thank you.”      

A person in the back started to clap.  Then another.  Before long, everyone started to cheer.  A burst of emotion flooded the plane.  Some people couldn’t stop crying.  Sandra politely clapped her hands a few times before getting up to grab her luggage.  She had already shed her tears.      

With her luggage in hand, Sandra entered the airport.  Everything looked normal still.  Take a snapshot of a random group of people anywhere in the planet and it was like it was before things started to change.  But then talk to those people.  One quit his job and is following his dream.  A couple can't muster the strength to get out of bed.  While a woman is trading up on her addictions, looking to avoid any shred of reality.  Everyone grieves differently.  Sandra just didn't want to be alone.  Now that air travel was no longer an option, people had to quickly decide who it was the wanted to spend their last couple of years with.  Sandra chose Greg.  She wasn't stuck.  There was boats.  Ways to return home.  Back to Ryan.  No.  She made her decision.    

"Sandra!”  A bearded man in his late twenties waved his hands in the air.  He had on a muscle shirt and long shorts.  He rushed towards Sandra.  Without warning,  he picked her up and spun her around the airport for all to see.  Then he put her down to admire her.      

“How have you been?” she asked  Greg fixed his glasses.      

“Good, you know for the world ending and everything.”      

“You were never one to let just trivial things ruin your mood.”    

Greg smiled and winked.  He took out a rolled joint and placed it in his mouth.      

“I know Canada is relaxed Greg, but we are still in an airport.”      

Greg finished lighting.  He took a drag.      

“Airport security isn't what it used to be.  They still give a shit in England?”      

Greg started to walk to his car.  Sandra followed behind him, carrying her own luggage.    

“Oh yeah, it's worse.  They are cracking down.  Trying to keep things civil.  Normal.  I even got a ticket  for littering the other day.”      Greg laughed.  “What a joke.  Always so fucking proper.  Even doomsday can wait until tea time is finished.    

Greg started to sing a brit punk song about anarchy.      

“Still signing I see.”  Sandra placed her bags in the back seat of a convertible.      

“Yeah the band has been booked non-stop.  Nobody wants quiet anymore.”    

Greg took another dragged.      

“Or sobriety.”      

“Hey I was stoned way before I found out we were all going to die.  Everyone else is a poser.”       

Before Greg could take another hit, Sandra took the blunt from his mouth and placed it in hers.  

“Can at you at least get us home before you get fucked up?”      

“Home... I like that.”  Greg revved up the engine.  Music blasted from the speakers.  Sandra let it hit her as she sunk in the seat.  With a deep breath she let the smoke fill her lungs.

Chapter 2

Sandra woke up with a headache.  She hasn't partied like this in years.  Around here empty bottles of vodka and gin decorated the loft.  A full ashtray.  Getting up, slowly, she stretched her body.  Draping her body with an over-sized robe, Sandra grabbed her cell phone.  She double checked to make sure Greg was still passed out before sneaking out the sliding door that lead to the beach.  A slight breeze rushed against her face.  It was warm out for a January night.  But that was normal now.  Winters were like summers.  And the summers...   

Sandra waited as the phone rang.  Thomas answered on the third ring.  

“Hello.”  

“Hey stranger.”  

“Sandra, is that you?  It's four in the morning.”  “

We both knew you would be up.”  

Thomas laughed.  “True... but what about you?”  

“Can't sleep.”  

A beat.  

“How was the flight?”  

“Good, until we almost crashed on landing.”  

“Are you okay?” Thomas asked.  

"Yeah.”  

“To die on the last plane ride.”  

Sandra smiled, “I thought the same thing... so... how goes the research?  Have you saved the world yet?”  

“You probably would have heard something if I did.”  

“Has there been any progress?”  

Thomas let out a sigh.  

“Thomas?”  

“No Sandra.  Nothing.  We can't even figure out at what rate the ozone layer is shrinking, let alone what is causing it.  Some months it's a lot, some months it's barely noticeable.”  

“How long do we have?”  

“Some people saw five, some say ten.  No one knows.” 

 “And you're still determined to spend them in a lab?”  

Yep, I will die with a beaker in my hand.”  

Sandra smiled.  

Silence.   

“I miss you,” said Thomas.  

“Don't... please don't.”  

“Why, you didn't give me a chance to say it before you left.”  

“I gave you plenty of chances, maybe if you looked at me once, you would have seen that I was tired of  waiting.”  

“Am I suppose to apologize because of what is happening?”  

“I was waiting for you long before this happened.”  

“You still blame me.  You were with Greg.”  

“Yeah and you were with Linda... and they were out of the picture for six months.  One of them wasn't even in the country.”  

“We were BOTH busy then Sandra.  Remember, you didn't want to get involved, to mess up our friendship while things were hectic.  You just started your job at the hospital.  Or did you forget about all that?”  

“At least I still made time to see you.  And no I didn't forget.  Don't shove that in my face”  

“So you're practising medicine out there in Toronto?  Making a difference.”  

“Oh fuck you Thomas.  On your high horse.  You work for one person, you, to keep your mind busy, not all of us can find escape like that, so don't make us feel like shit.”  

“I didn't mean to...” Thomas swallowed hard, “I'm just mad Sandra.  You left so suddenly.  So permanently.  And to Greg.  Of all people.  This isn't the worse part of it I know.  It would have been just as bad if you were alone.  But still...”      

“If you it makes you feel better, he didn't win, you lost.”  

“Thanks, I feel so much better now.”  

Sandra.  “And I miss you too.”  

“Let's try to keep in touch.  I don't know how much longer our phones will work.”  

“What do you mean?”  

“The satellites, didn't you hear?”  

“No.”  

“Yeah we are heading back to the stone age... you don't know about the boats either?”  

Sandra stared off into the distant sea.  “Boats?”  

“Commercial ships are stopping at the end of February.  Too dangerous with the weather.”  

“Oh.”  

“It's not too late you know... you can come home.”   

“I can't do that to Greg.”  

“He would probably be too high to remember it.”   

“I'm sorry Thomas.”  

“Was worth a shoot.”  

“I should go...”  

“I understand.  We will talk soon.”  

“Yeah... we will... bye Thomas.”  

A tear started to slide down Sandra's cheek.  She let herself feel the wind brush against it before wiping it off.  Then she turned around to go back to bed.  But before she left the beach something caught her eye.  There was a man with a camera pointed towards the sky, over the water.  Sandra wandered over to get closer.  When she was a couple of feet away she looked up to see what he was looking at.  Nothing.  It was pitch black.  But then the sun started to rise.  Magnificent shades of red and orange illuminated the air.  It was like being under a blanket of fire.  Sandra watched on in awe as the sound of a clicking camera went off beside her.  

“Is this the first sunset you have seen since it started.”  

“Yeah,” she said, still looking at the sky.     

“They get more beautiful each day.  As the sun gets closer.”   

“The sun isn't getting closer.”  

“I know, but it's easier to say that.  People spend too much time trying to explain things.”  He took another couple of shots.  “I've been getting a lot of great shots.  Of people too.  It's like a magnifying glass.  We are still who we are, just now exposed.  Maybe intensified is the better word.  So much emotion.”  

“It's too bad...”  Sandra stopped what she was saying.  It didn't need to be said: too bad no one will see them.  

The photographer looked at Sandra.  He gave her a slight nod and went back to taking photos.  “It won't hurt.”  

“Sorry.”  

“The sun... when the ozone layer can't protect us anymore and the sun engulfs us.  It won't hurt.”  

Sandra just stared back.  Her hands started to shake.  Light at first, but then.  She rushed back into the house and flung open the cabinet doors.  With force she moved things around and through pots out of her way.  The sound echoed through the loft.  Greg woke up.  He walked up behind Sandra who was rustling through the entire kitchen.  

“Sandra?”  

“I need a drink.”  

“Come back to bed.”  

Sandra turned and looked at Greg.   “I need a fucking drink.”  

Greg moved over to his closet and pulled out a half empty bottle of vodka.  Sandra took it and chugged it back.  She almost finished it before gasping for air.  Then she shrunk to the floor, balling up as tight as she could.  Greg wrapped his arms around her.  Tears.  It was going to be a long night.