The Goodwills: Adventure in an Apocalyptic World

Chapter two

Victor groaned as he forced his eyes open. His head throbbed. The last thing he remembered was the celebration… the light that swallowed everything… and then nothing.

He blinked at the brightness above him.

‘Where’s the ceiling? Where’s the floor? Why is it so hot?’

He sat up quickly, sand sticking to his palms. A wave of confusion hit him as he looked around. No marble floors. No family members. Just a long empty shoreline, the sun beating down, wind in his ears, and…

“Is that… a tsunami?”

A massive wall of water was rising in the distance.

Victor didn’t think. He jumped to his feet and ran. He had never moved so fast in his life. Sand flew behind him as he sprinted inland, lungs burning.

When he finally stopped and turned around, expecting destruction, he froze.

The wave was gone.

Just calm water touching the shore as if nothing had happened.

“That makes no sense,” he muttered, breathing hard.

He sat in the sand to steady himself. “Okay… I’m on a beach. I don’t know where. I’m alone, at least for now. And a giant wave just disappeared like it never existed.”

He rubbed his face, frustrated. None of it added up.

Let me look around. Maybe there’s food… or people. Worst case, I sell my Rolex for a slice of bread.

The thought made him snort weakly.

He started walking along the shore and as he did he noticed two unclear figures.

Then he saw them.

“Uncle Robert! Uncle Caleb!” Victor yelled, running toward them.

“Victor!” Robert called back, relief washing over his face as he and Caleb got up.

They embraced each other quickly, checking for injuries.

“You look fine,” Robert said. “That’s something.”

Victor nodded. “You guys just woke up too?”

“We did,” Caleb answered. “Barely made sense of anything before you showed.”

“Then let’s find the others,” Victor said.

They started walking together, hoping for more survivors. Not too long after, they noticed deep drag marks in the sand.

Robert crouched and touched the grooves. “Fresh. Very fresh.”

They all exchanged the same look—fear mixed with determination.

Victor exhaled. “Let’s track it.”

They followed the trail through the trees until they reached a clearing.

A camp. Poorly built. People moving around with practiced caution.

“Patrols,” Caleb whispered.

Victor nodded. “We have no choice. Let’s talk to them.”

Before they could take another step—

“Who’s there?!” a voice barked.

Two patrol members rushed forward, wooden spears raised.

“We mean no harm,” Robert said, lifting his hands. He gave a small forced smile and whispered, “Let me handle this.”

“Hands up!” one of the patrols shouted.

The trio raised their hands quickly.

“We’re just looking for our family,” Robert explained. “We followed the drag marks.”

The patrols exchanged a look. Their expressions softened slightly, but their spears didn’t lower.

“Move,” one of them said. “Try anything stupid and you’ll get a hole you didn’t come with.”

The patrols led them into the camp.

Everything looked worn and battered, patched tents, bent utensils, torn clothes, people who looked like they were just trying to survive another day. The place carried years of hardship.

Victor swallowed hard.

‘I hope they aren’t cannibals.’

At the center stood a larger tent supported by stronger wooden beams. Two guards waited at the entrance, each holding spears with metal heads.

A small sign of higher authority.

The patrols spoke with the guards, explaining what had happened. The guards’ expressions stayed hard, unreadable.

One guard disappeared inside to inform whoever was in charge.

Silence settled over the camp. No one said a word. Victor felt sweat drip down his back.

After a long wait, the guard returned.

“You’re allowed inside,” he said. “But you must be stripped to your last wear.”

Victor’s jaw tightened, but what choice did they have?

All three of them were forced to remove everything until they were left in only their underwear.

“Move,” the guard ordered.

They entered the tent.

The temperature dropped immediately. Candlelight flickered across maps pinned to wooden boards, shelves of old books, stacks of letters, and strange devices that looked like they hadn’t worked in years.

And at the far end of the tent, sitting behind a long wooden table, was a woman.

She looked young. Strikingly beautiful, something almost unreal in this harsh environment. Long dark hair tied back, sharp eyes that missed nothing, a faint scar along her jaw. Her posture was straight, firm, commanding.

Nothing soft about her.

She studied them like specimens.

“You found more,” she said without emotion.

“Three men from the beach,” the guard replied. “They said the drag marks belonged to their people.”

She stood.

The air shifted.

Even in their underwear, Victor, Robert, and Caleb felt smaller under her gaze.

“Who sent you?” she asked, voice smooth but cold.

“No one,” Robert said quickly. “We don’t even know how we got here.”

She stepped closer, her eyes tracking every detail of them.

“Interesting,” she murmured. Something flickered in her expression, but it was gone too fast to read.

Then she turned away.

“Throw them in with the rest.”

“Wait—” Victor started, but the guards grabbed them.

“We’re telling the truth!” he shouted as they were dragged toward the exit.

The woman didn’t even look at them.

“Knock them out.”

A sharp blow landed on Victor’s head.

Darkness swallowed him.