Unchosen Champion

Coop loved his job.

It wasn’t his dream job or anything, but it still felt like a dream morphing into a nightmare when the sky was blotted out and the ground began shaking violently.

Starting a career had snuck up on him in an uncomfortable way. He had just finished school and was a bit lost without the structured guidance it had provided. Trauma had caused Coop to become the kind of guy that took things step by step with little deviation. He wasn’t fully conscious of this change, but at least in the back of his mind he knew that he wasn’t really coping properly. Regardless, it had helped him become a successful student even if he lacked the passion that made other students exceptional.

Go to class, do the assignments, take the exams, repeat.

His simple mentality had also helped him become an even better athlete. He was more diligent than when he had the childish exuberance to pour his heart out in competition.

Go to practice, train hard, compete, repeat.

His hollow dedication even followed him into his hobbies, where it yielded the greatest rewards. Video games are inherently about gameplay loops and he would happily complete them repeatedly.

Kill monsters, get loot, level up, repeat.

He hadn’t gotten through school because he was intelligent, he hadn’t been an athlete because he was talented, and he wasn’t good at video games because of skill. He thought that was okay. He just did what was expected of him. Time to start a career, he supposed.

Apply for a position, go to the interview, never hear back, repeat.

It wasn’t working.

He kept trying, because what else would he do? But there was a time limit. Rent was a ticking clock. Entry level positions that wanted 3-5 years of experience were unfair. His peers relying on their parents, also unfair.

Eventually, after hundreds of cycles he spotted an opportunity. He found an open position with no experience requirements, fine. One that was extremely remote such that immediate family would be a detriment, no problem. Repetitive maintenance tasks, harsh physical labor, periods of isolation, and unavoidable extreme weather, it seemed perfect.

By some miracle Coop ended up with the job. The stars aligned and Coop became a lighthouse keeper. Sort of. He was the junior caretaker of Ghost Reef, a chain of islands that were mostly glorified sandbars surrounded by treacherous coral reefs.

The eponymous reef earned its name after it had led many sailors to their end by shipwreck or by shark. The islands were as remote as it could get, it was almost a hundred miles of open ocean to the nearest port on the Florida mainland. But there was a lighthouse and it was where Coop lived. He thought that was pretty cool, actually.

His responsibilities revolved around taking care of the lighthouse, maintenance of trails, and tracking wildlife. In other words, his job was to live in a tropical paradise and do some simple chores. Coop’s emptiness even started to change, little by little, he was filled with appreciation for the islands.

It truly was a paradise. Rock Key was the largest island in the chain and the only one with any human habitation with its lighthouse and old stone fort. Coop walked the two beaches on Rock Key every morning to survey for sea turtle tracks; he was responsible for recording wildlife data. He maintained the trails by jogging one of them each day, stopping only if repairs were necessary. He lifted weights and exercised in the afternoon. In the evenings he read books and played video games in his lighthouse.

He did a lot of snorkeling, especially around the wrecks, since there were still pirate treasures to be claimed. It was fun to see the fish reclaiming the remains of old ships for their homes. He visited the wild pigs that lived between a few of the smaller islands and who seemed to enjoy swimming far more than they should. Coop thought sharks would probably like pork, so he couldn’t help but count the pigs each time he went, just to make sure no one was missing. So far, so good.

He liked to watch the burrowing owls who were the busiest right after dawn, and would try to spot the bats that waited until dusk to come out to play. The absolute best feature was that on one side of the island you could watch the sunrise over the ocean and on the other side you could also watch the sunset over the ocean.

For months he slowly grew to appreciate his luck, fate, and new supervisor who had accepted him in the first place. His supervisor, Mr. Jones, who insisted on just being called Jones, was the only other resident of the islands. He lived in the barracks of Fort Leon, an old coastal fortress on the north side of the island that was even older than the lighthouse, nearly 500 years old. It had seen battles, sieges, and blockades until the island chain eventually became a nature preserve for birds, turtles, and, of course, the coral reefs. It was a great improvement over housing soldiers and imprisoning criminals and pirates, in Coop’s opinion.

Jones was the senior caretaker and focused on archaeology and administration of the island itself. He was well into his seventies and had become as much a part of Rock Key as the fort. He was originally from Bermuda and became the caretaker of Ghost Reef when he was still a teenager. Jones was a meticulous guy who seemed happiest while roaming the walls of the fort. Coop’s only complaint about Jones was that when they shared meals it was always fish.

Coop and Jones met at least once every week to update the status around the island and to keep track of supplies while sharing a meal. Jones knew from experience how important it was to stay on top of their responsibilities when living in such an isolated location and Coop followed his lead.

Electricity was generated by solar panels and rainwater was collected, treated, and stored in cisterns designed for a much larger population than the two caretakers. Both systems required Coop to regularly check and maintain. The water collection system needed a special paint that Coop would have to reapply at set intervals. It gave the drinking water a slightly different taste than tap water, but he had already grown used to it.

Food was brought by a ferry along with a handful of visitors and the more regular park rangers from the National Park Service. Jones played host to the visitors but Coop also made friends when he could. The ferry was the only communication they had off island since the radio was for emergencies only. One of the park rangers had even gone out of her way to regularly loan Coop new books to read. Coop found himself looking forward to her visits.

The main feature of the island was Fort Leon, a huge six-sided stone fortress with a massive courtyard that was only halfway on the island while the rest extended into the ocean. It was completely surrounded by a moat that cut into the ocean floor and was deep, even on the land side. Coop was still a little scared of swimming in the moat.

The castle-like fortress didn’t have a proper drawbridge, just a regular, flat, wooden bridge and a gate that lined up nicely with the lighthouse on the opposite side of the island. The bridge had no railing and Coop had only overcome his fear of the moat a few times in order to jump off the bridge and, admittedly, only when the rangers were on the island. A little bravado in front of the mousy park ranger couldn’t be helped.

Beyond the moat on the ocean sides were extensive coral reefs that poked out of the water during low tides and gave only a few feet of clearance even at high tide. There was only one channel deep enough for ships and it led to a dock adjacent to the fort on the west side of the island. The skeletons of shipwrecks were scattered among the reefs, evidence of both the treachery of the shallows and the cannons that still occupied the walls of the fort. The walls themselves were protected by tall corner bastions which had borne the brunt of the assaulting ships over the years and proudly wore the scars to prove it.

The rest of Rock Key was a nature preserve. The fort occupied the northern corner of the island while the rest of the island sheltered two white sand beaches, some short dunes with palm trees, some light interior scrubland, and a thick mangrove forest. The mangrove forest contained a saltwater lake that was constantly filled with birds and was fed by shifting salt water rivers that twisted their way among the mangroves back to the ocean.

The entire island was basically at sea level and that was also true for the rest of the chain. The other dozen or so islands had names like Little Key, Long Key, or Salt Key, but they were really all just sandbars that a handful of mangroves had prevented from washing away during the tides. The aquamarine waters of the ocean were always calm thanks to the miles of shallow reefs and actual sandbars that protected the little island chain. During low tide it was possible to wade into the ocean for miles without the water reaching waist high.

Taking everything together revealed scenery fit for a postcard. In fact, it was the basis of several postcards. The islands defaulted to a state of tranquility with only the calm lapping of waves, the breeze flowing through palm trees, and the calls of birds roosting in the mangroves to accompany the picturesque views.

That’s why the sonic boom that knocked Coop flat on his back was especially jarring.

Coop couldn’t hear anything but a loud ringing in his ears that he was afraid would be permanent, but even though he couldn’t hear, he could definitely feel the continuous rumbling deep in his chest. His hands were covered in blood after reaching to his ears which made him even more concerned about permanent damage. What was going on? It was a nightmare.

Coop could not get his bearings. He couldn’t even sit up. Was his balance also damaged? No, he finally focused on a nearby palm tree to see it swaying like it was trying to escape the dune that it grew out of, even though there was no wind. Literally no wind, even the constant ocean breeze was gone. An earthquake? Coop wasn’t warned about earthquakes. He had been warned about hurricanes, not earthquakes. The island didn’t get earthquakes.

He was still flat on his back with both arms extended out trying to keep steady like he had spontaneously decided to make snow angels in the sand. He was only a few minutes away from his lighthouse on the way to the fort. Coop’s mind was racing while the rumbling deep in his chest continued, he thought he could actually hear it, a deep, low sound like an explosion with no end. Could it have been a nuclear bomb? Images of the Bikini Atoll flashed through his mind before he dismissed the idea. Unless it was an attack… no, not even an attack would make sense, he was in the middle of nowhere, far from any strategic targets.

It had only been 30 seconds but they felt stretched as Coop’s mind raced. Another idea came to Coop, the rumbling reminded him of the space shuttle launches he saw as a kid with his parents. He thought maybe this is what it would be like if the space shuttle launched off his chest. He unclenched his eyes and looked past the palm tree canopy toward the sky. He couldn’t see it. The sky was blocked by a mountain. But the mountain was all wrong, it had no snow covered peaks and was oriented so that the peak was on the west and the base was beyond the horizon to the east.

The mountain was so gigantic, it barely seemed to be in motion. Like watching the moonrise, it was obvious that it was large, distant, and moving, but Coop’s brain had no frame of reference to figure out how large, how far, or how fast it was. And it wasn’t alone, there were other mountains or chunks of mountains riding its wake like how the dolphins sometimes raced with the ferry. It wasn’t like any mountain Coop had ever seen either. He was sure they shouldn’t have red veins that pulsed and waned like a heart beating, criss-crossing throughout the rock of the mountain and its smaller followers. Whatever was going on was beyond Coop’s comprehension.

Coop was rattled at this point and he was running out of ideas. Looking at the mountain he started to realize he was in shock. Surely if it was anything it would be a meteor, it would make sense for one of those to cause a sonic boom and break into smaller pieces when it hit the atmosphere. Probably. But this thing was huge. Way bigger than the comet that killed the dinosaurs. And it had glowing veins. Coop was sure he was witnessing the apocalypse.

Coop was finally able to brace himself enough to get to his knees, the rumbling he could feel in his chest had not let up and he was convinced the ringing in his ears would be a permanent addition. Facing east, beyond the sky-blocking mountain he looked into the distance and could see more. More mountain meteors in the sky accompanied by dozens, no, hundreds of smaller rocks. Smaller rocks that were the size of skyscrapers. He looked to the south, beyond his lighthouse and saw more. Coop felt despair, he wasn’t worried about his hearing anymore, he was sure he would be dead soon. Everyone would be.

It was dark. It wasn’t night yet, it had only been a bit more than ten minutes after 11 in the morning, but the mountains that were hurtling across the sky were so large and so numerous that they blocked out the sun. Coop could still see far enough to watch the ocean recede into the distance. Dry land surrounded Rock Key. He thought that the ocean seemed to be running for its life. Where would the ocean even go to hide?

While he was watching he saw the first meteor land where the ocean used to be, miles offshore. One of the building sized ones. It caused the sediment to explode like a bomb had been detonated. Once the cloud of debris cleared, the meteor was still standing inside a massive oval crater. The scene was enough for Coop to stumble back onto his feet and try to get cover.

He imagined the ocean rushing back. Isn’t a tsunami what follows after the ocean recedes? Not that he thought it would matter much. The fort was further than the lighthouse so he decided the lighthouse would be his shelter. Uselessly, he thought he would be late for lunch with Jones.

As he tried to run, but only managed to stumble his way back to the lighthouse, his vision started to shift. The colors of things started to change, the leaves were blue, the sand was dark green, the sky was purple, his hand was bright red. A gust of wind blew across the island making up for the previously absent breeze. He looked back at the palm trees and noticed they had also changed. Some had grown to be 10 times as large as they were before, the mangrove forest had also become massive. It had less of the shorter canopy expected in a hurricane prone region and looked more like a tropical rainforest.

It made no sense. Coop thought he might be losing his mind. As he turned back to the lighthouse it suddenly erupted just below the top floor as a car sized meteor blasted through the white stone and continued over Coop’s head. The explosion blew Coop off his feet and threw him backwards into a dune, knocking him out cold.