They had packed everything for the trip. Both boards, food and drink, and a couple of Geiger counters. Whatever awaited them past the City, they were ready.
Their fur was bronzed like the hounds of old, the noble seafarers and waveriders of the Western shores. They lived in their swimwear and sandals, and their lone craving was that sweet, crystal water blue, capped in white foam, and towering above them as they raced towards and rode ashore.
All they had to do was get past Haven.
They set out at the crack of dawn. The driver, Aeto, had been pretty easy-going behind the wheel of their top-down, crimson-colored Nova. His gal Sandra was cozied up to him, nuzzling at his soft-furred chest as she dreamed of all that would greet them when they finally arrived.
They had passed the southern ridge of the Ivory Coast without incident, but when the Haven’s tall chain-link wall came into view, the clouded dome of electric security emergent, he swung his paw down hard and set their piece of eight-pistoned muscle on her redline. Lights swept the car as she roared away. Fortunately, though tremendous, Haven was not infinite. They were past the towers of the City’s backside when the spotlights went out.
By the mercy of every moondog watching over them, the city slept and the dawn patrol carried on. Aeto didn’t let off. One part paranoia, one part thrill-seeker, and his girl was loving it.
“Keep blowing that steam,” Sandra teased. “I know how you dig the long drives.”
She nibbled at him a little while he worked his hand down her and over to the gearshift. He shifted and smoothed their roll out, all the way to the coast. Between now and the coast was time enough to savor the thrill. The thrill of getting away from all the madness, the thrill of sharing passion in a land exotic, and a space seemingly unexplored. Unexplored, but not without good reason.
Down the tan wolf came on the brake and clutch, claws out on all fours as he swerved their rod away from the ledge. The whole of it, all of that golden gate paradise, was no longer. The water was there, but a long way down. There was a path, only wide enough to walk. Aeto at last spoke, his voice rich and deep. “A little exercise won’t hurt.”
And so they hopped out, surfboards under their arms, and sandals clapping with each step. Their trip down the cliff-face took longer than expected, but c’est la vie. Every whiff of sea air kept them hanging on for the next path, the next leap.
When at last they made landfall, out came the counter and the readings were fine. Not a drop of radioactivity, at least not enough to kill. They checked the water, and found the same. And when they saw the waves, my God, were they down for it.
They rode each like royalty, with grace and poise, their buff brown bodies floating above the boards, the waves, and the sea itself. The water was the deepest blue they’d ever seen. Not a single reservoir in all the desert looked half as good and pure, and the wave pummeled every wave pool and high-wind on those small lakes. It was a kind of nirvana they had only dreamed of.
They surfed, they ate, they relaxed, and then they surfed again. Rinse and repeat, until at last they decided to cross a little something off their list: love in the waves. Every kiss washed out to sea, another put in its place as they savored their moment of complete freedom in each other’s arms, and the ocean’s embrace. They rolled with the sea, wrapped up only in themselves and the totality of sensation.
As they toweled off, slid into their brown-strapped footwear, and mopped their boards, Sandra turned to Aeto. “Why don’t everyone come out here?” she asked innocently. He wrapped his damp arm around her and smiled. “They don’t know. I don’t know if we’ll make it to tell ‘em.”
For the first time in a while, his beach bunny thought about the state of it all. The state of the world, the land, the city lording over all.
She didn’t let it ruin the day though. “Ah hell, beats riding a wave pool anyhow. We’ll find out when we find out.”
Aeto nodded contently. With that, the tan-furred surfers made the great trek back up the fault line. They loaded their gear, piled into their speed demon, and vanished onto the horizon, the sun left kissing the waters they had so cherished.
Another outstanding one!