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Here’s the deep dive of Plan B on the Beach

Json’s crew of about 110 souls emerged from the long dark corridors of the bunker into a beautiful sunset over the ocean. Everyone paused in the fresh air and covered their eyes from the son, wondering about the ocean, about what dangers were ahead.

Json attempted an optimistic speech, “Okay, we’re going to walk West for an hour and then we will put down for the evening. Everybody keep an eye on each other. I want all children to be holding an adult hand. We’re moving out in three minutes.”

It was a liminal moment. No one got in the water. No one sat down on the shore. Even the sound of the waves seemed altered somehow, like this entire experience was some sort of hologram. Json knew the intelligence behind GAA and their AI had mental distortion and jamming technology.

“Keep an eye to the skies as well, we know they have drones out hunting for us. Let’s not be found. Not today.”

Rachel came up beside him. “Can I hold your hand today?”

He scooped the small child into his arms and felt her shiver. “It’s okay. We’re not in danger out here, I’m just being cautious.”

And it was time to go.

“READY!” Json yelled.

“SET, GO!” replied his band of resistance fighters. More like refugees at the moment. They set off down the shore as the last rays of the sun were shooting yellow against the darkening blue sky of the coming night. Json didn’t know how cold it might get. He knew they only had an hour to bed down and get everyone fed.

There was nothing on the beach as far as they could see. Just ocean shore and some sand dunes covered with dry sage. They straggled along. Rachael began singing, a Elton John song from Json’s childhood. “Beyond the yellow brick rooooad,” she sang. His mind shot back to his father deep in study with his books and guitars. His mom was making soup of some sort, he could almost smell it, almost like some kind of hallucination.

“Rachael,” he said. “Why are you singing that song?” Her tiny voice stopped.

“Rachael, did you hear me? How do you know that song?”

She didn’t answer. She seemed dazed or sleepy. Json dropped to his knees in front of the girl. “Are you okay?” He grabbed her hands and tried to find the light in her eyes.

It was them, Json realised. They’re connecting through her because she’s unguarded.

“Okay, everyone, we’re going double time now, pick up the pace.” He scooped Rachael up and put her limply on his shoulders. She wasn’t singing or talking, but she did squeeze tightly on the fingers he gave her to hold.

He couldn’t alarm everyone with his fears. Probably just his imagination. “Keep your cool,” he repeated to himself like a mantra. He was trying to keep panic from setting in.

They came up on the abandoned house about 15 minutes later. It was someone’s beach getaway. There was just enough room inside for the bedding. One group began preparing food while the others tended to the children and setting up camp.

Json stared out the torn window at the dark waves of the ocean lapping in under a moonless sky. He couldn’t make out any stars in the sky. It appeared they were safe for a night of rest. He had no idea where they were headed or what his objective was, other than to keep the group one step ahead of the ones hunting them.

What was the interference that tapped Rachael to sing a song from his childhood? How had her singing transported him in some hallucinatory experience, his dad’s laugh, the smell of his mom’s chicken dumpling soup. They knew his memories. Of course they did. They had access to all of their hyper-souls in the digital archive, stored away like dreams, nightmares, moods, songs, even smells. Yet, Json loved the moment. He could almost taste his mom’s soup, feel her arms around him. He was part of a family of great huggers. He wanted that hug.

Json put his hand on the small of Rachael’s back as she snored lightly next to him on her palette. “I will keep her safe,” he thought as he fell asleep wondering about his mom again.

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