The Scent Brings Me Back

No air bubbles had risen for almost a minute before Gin erupted to the surface. Quick as a wink Mallo reached over the edge of the pontoon boat and drug the human up and out of the water.

“Love of Misp!” snarled the ork. “Do you ever consider not trying to get yourself killed?!”

Gin peeled off her diving respirator. Chest heaving as she gulped up fresh air, she remained on the pontoon floor, draped inelegantly and grinning.

“Death, my tusked darling, is the sweetest long-distance lover.”

Mallo snorted. With the flick of a lever she powered on the portable generator and began operating the jib crane that extended out over the pristine water.

As her friend maintained a sour expression, Ginger wiggled out of her minimal diving gear and empty air tank. She unzipped her suit, peeling it down to her waist. Drawing her arms up over her head, Gin drew in as deep a breath as she could, smiling up at the sunshine that graced the lowest reaches of the Puget Sound.

Few things were as delicious as the feel of sunlight soaking into the skin — though there were a great many things Ginger enjoyed, but this was certainly top of the list. Content, a soda was retrieved from one of the three coolers tucked beneath the pontoon’s trap door, and the young woman lounged back to watch the soft clouds drift lazily across the afternoon sky.

“You ever here before?”

“You mean before the last few dozen times we’ve salvaged here?”

Gin made a snarky face at Mallo as the latter pulled in the crate that had just surfaced. “I mean before the Capitol sunk and the Sound flooded.”

“Lived here for a while as a kid.” Mallo powered off the generator. “The Awakening was something to see.”

“Rather you saw it than me.”

The hum of the motor faded away, and the peaceful silence of Olympia Bay filled their ears. Both women inhaled deep breaths and sighed. Unlike the perpetually overcast and polluted Seattle that could be seen far off to the north, the remnants of Olympia rested beyond the metroplex in protected Salish territory.

From atop the weathered stone of the Capitol Dome protruding off kilter from the calm green waters a seagull squawked, sending the rest of the perched flock into a crying frenzy, and it startled the pair from their reverie.

“Come on. Help me secure this so we can head back.”

“I would,” Ginger responded amidst a yawn, “but I’m still recovering from my brush with death.”

Mallo let the excess chain drop to the metal floor with an abrasive chuh-clunk. “You’ll brush by the old boy again if you’re not over here in ten seconds. Or, I could just put the crate back –“

“Uuuugh!” protested Ginger as she rolled to get up. “Fine! Fine, I’m uuuup!”