Free Colonization (The Seamus Chronicles Book 3) by K. D. McAdams

checking the front of the cargo hold when the water starts coming in.” I feel like logic will make my actions acceptable.
    “Fine, just make a path instead of stepping on stuff.” Dad turns and starts stacking boxes.
    He’s right. We have a finite amount of supplies and even if it delays finding what I want we need to be careful with every single item. Grabbing an electric heater that was poking through a wet piece of cardboard, I move it to the side beginning some semblance of order.

Chapter 10
    Our little supply run went well. We were each able to grab more than we could carry well before the water started to rise. In fact we had enough time to sit and have a bite to eat and a drink. Dad and Henry sipped scotch that Henry retrieved from a secret stash and Liam and I split a Coke.
    The fact that we were expecting the water to rise made it kind of anticlimactic. We each took double what we could carry and used a leapfrog technique. When the water was about three feet from the edge of the cargo ramp we each carried a load away until the water was a few inches from our initial pile.
    After putting down our first load we jogged back and picked up the second load just as the water started licking at it. We then carried the second load past the first until the water rose to that point. The process repeated all the way to the rafts.
    If I remembered correctly the dome from the solar sail should have reached out past the rafts. The relief I kept anticipating never came. Either there is a flaw with my settings or something has gone wrong. The spectrum of energy I configured to block and pass was a guesstimate, one opportunity for error. Before we left it was working fine, though, so I doubt it was a configuration problem.
    Liam is with us so I know he didn’t break something trying to be helpful; it’s happened before. The girls and Remmie were around the reactor. I guess I hope one of them bumped into it by accident and took it off line. Beyond a minor accident by the girls, the options are pretty scary, `and I would rather not think about them.
    In the scalding sun of full day the simple leap frog process was exhausting. In addition to moving twice the supplies, though, it kept us busy. Covering relatively short distances eliminated the dread of having to walk the many miles back to the tree line.
    The four of us are covered in blisters again and I’m starting to worry that much more exposure to this sun and we won’t be sick, we’ll be dead. I tried to fashion a parasol from some cardboard but it didn’t work very well. We have an interesting dilemma: nights are too cold to work and days are too hot. I wonder how this will translate to growing food.
    As we splash the last few feet to the tree line I become acutely aware of sound, or lack thereof. Keeping track of time is still low on the priority list so I’m not sure how long we have been gone. It’s possible that it was long enough that they are asleep. The sun doesn’t even seem to be half way across the sky though.
    I’m not sure what types of noise I am expecting. We packed a radio but I am not sure that anyone has salvaged it from the C-5. The tools we just salvaged are still here with us so there wouldn’t be any hammering or sawing to disrupt the calm.
    Voices. There should be voices. Remmie is a good kid, but at four years old quiet isn’t really his thing. Actually, I’m more surprised that I don’t hear Sofie and Grace, talking is somewhere between a hobby and a way of life for them.
    My role is not the one that is nervous about strange feelings. Dad is the one that should be worried about what we don’t hear.
    Like he could read my mind, Dad puts a hand up in the air signaling us to stop.
    “Something seems off.” He whispers. “I’m going to check it out, you stay here.”
    Dad hands Liam the rope from his life raft and makes his way slowly through the opening in the shrubs. My initial thoughts left me feeling weird and confused. Dad’s