One destination marked on everyone’s rain-splattered map. A safe haven amongst the sunken cities and drowned highways, a light in the hungering darkness of the Newborn Sea.

Sierra Nevada.

The mountain-based settlement that had stood its' ground against the whipping, violent winds and the never-ending icy downpour. After the majority of the population had learned the rain would not be ending, they raced to find somewhere that wouldn’t be just another Atlantis amongst the thousands of American cities. Denali was too far; none of their boats would make it. At first, hope dwindled like the amount of surviving cities. However, a radio broadcast from the settlement perched atop the tall California peaks gave many another handle to grasp for.

A sigh escaped Leon's mouth as he recounted the earliest days of this apocalypse, his hand pulling away from the map resting upon a table. The unstable ground swayed and heaved beneath him, and the unceasing patter of raindrops upon the upper deck of the watercraft drilled into his mind. The howls of the vicious gales outside merged with the booming thunder, forming a strangely symphonic melody of chaos. The man peered out the disappointingly small window that provided the only easy view of the storming outdoors. As he glanced at the door leading to the lower deck, he reluctantly approached; Terry would definitely want his help with how hateful the storm had grown.

Leon braced himself for the hell that was the storm outside and opened the door. Immediately he was greeted by a harsh gust of wind attempting to shove him back inside the cabin. With a huff, he pushed through and raised an arm to shield his face, his already-soaked hair lashing at his face and the raindrops pouring down his brow and racing across his face. He gritted his teeth and turned away from the wind, gazing upwards slightly at the elevated platform the steering wheel sat upon. In the brief flashes of lightning that illuminated the otherwise dark environment, he could see the outline of a portly man clinging tightly to the steering wheel.

"TERRY, WE'VE GOT TO ANCHOR!" Leon screamed, depleting his lungs of their oxygen as he threw his voice against the winds. As he began to make his way to the steering wheel, he caught a few words before they were Slot to The cacophony of sounds.

"OKAY…. WHEEL! I'LL… THE ANCHOR!" was all Leon heard from his companion, though he got the message. Slowly but surely he fought his way up the slick stairs, one hand gripping the railing tightly and the other shielding his face. As he finally reached the top deck, Leon reached for the steering wheel and just barely brushed it with his fingertips: he three himself forward and grabbed the polished steering device to catch his fall. As he did so, Terry began making his journey to the anchor situated towards the back of the boat. It was in a precarious position, resting in an exposed area near the two engines with no railings or barriers.

As Leon took up a sturdy stance beside the wheel and tightly grasped the handles, another abrupt glimpse of light given to him by the harsh lightning gave him a glance of something dire. A massive dip was awaiting them, and they were charging for it like a reckless boar. His eyes widened despite the gusts and heavy downpour, and he opened his jaw to warn his friend.

"TERRY, HOLD ON! THERE'S A-" Leon's sentence was abruptly cut off as the boat seemed to rise out of the water for a second before slamming down into the hungry waves with insane power. Leon’s teeth clamped down sharply on his tongue, sending a spike of pain coursing through his body. His feet lost traction and he was sent gliding backwards, his back slamming into the tough railing behind him. It took a moment for him to process what had occurred as water splashed over the sides of the craft, soaking him even more thoroughly. A coppery flooded his mouth, and he shook off his surprise, glancing fearfully to where Terry had gone.

The man was gone.

"TERRY? TERRY?! TERRY!"

Marv scp-3300 if you kindly.

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Noah%27s_Ark