After the Fall- The Complete series Box Set

by Charlie Dalton

  “Now what?” Jamie said.

  Dust fell from a seam that appeared in the wall. A dark doorway slid open. The ground they stood on shifted beneath their feet, pulling them into the mountain. Fatty screamed and turned to run. A new section of wall slammed in front of his face.

  Black.

  106.

  “I’M DEAD,” Fatty said. “I’m dead. It was a lot less painful than I thought it would be.”

  “You’re not dead, you idiot,” Jamie said. “We’re just. . . Lucy, where are we?”

  “Inside the mountain,” Lucy said. “A secret place.”

  A light flickered on overhead. The kids jumped back.

  “It’s okay,” Lucy said. “It’s just a light.”

  “A light?” Jamie said, reaching up to touch it. “But there’s no heat. No fire.”

  “It’s a lightbulb,” Donny said, recalling something from school. “Powered by electricity. Right, Lucy?”

  “Yes,” Lucy said. “I’m not sure. Things are still a bit fuzzy.”

  Their boots made loud thudding noises on the metal floor.

  “What is this place?” Jamie said, putting his hand to the walls.

  “This is home,” Lucy said. “My home.”

  A door opened before them. The kids jumped back again, ready to fight whoever had opened it on the other side. No one was there.

  “How did the door open with no one to open it?” Fatty said.

  “Sensors,” Lucy said, the word had suddenly come to her. “Yes. That’s right. Sensors. They can sense us when we come close and open before we get there.”

  “Seems a waste,” Donny said. “Why not just open it with your hand?”

  Lucy took a step forward, setting off another sensor. This one happened in stages, lighting up the huge area she’d stepped into. The more light there was, the less Jamie wanted to see. There were bodies. Hundreds of them, lying in piles dotted across the giant space. Their faces were torn and bloodied, clothes mere rags. Many wore white lab coats recently stained with blood.

  “Rages,” Donny said under his breath. “You brought us to a place infested with Rages?”

  Lucy frowned, confused by what she was seeing.

  “No,” she said. “It shouldn’t be like this. At least, it wasn’t. I don’t know.”

  “I don’t feel good about this, guys,” Fatty said.

  “We came to get help for Dad,” Jamie said, undeterred. “And that’s what we’re going to do. Lucy, take us where we need to go. You’re his only hope.”

  “In that case, I imagine you’re referring to me.”

  An old man in a white coat and round spectacles stepped forward. His white hair was thin, swept back from his scalp like a man who hadn’t taken the time to look in the mirror in years. He used a cane to walk.

  Lucy’s legs felt weak. She almost collapsed where she stood.

  “Welcome back, L,” the man said. “I see you brought friends.”

  “You’re him,” Lucy said. “The man I remember.”

  “But clearly not very well,” the old man said.

  He seemed disappointed.

  “That’s all right,” he said. “I’m sure we can fix your memory.”

  “What happened here?” Lucy said. “I don’t remember people being dead here like this.”

  “You wouldn’t,” the old man said. “It happened after your time.” His eyes drifted to Donald. “Your friend looks like he needs some medical attention.”

  He turned and began walking down the hallway.

  “Come,” he said, one hand behind his back, the other on his walking stick. “You must have many questions. The answers are here.”

  He didn’t turn back to see if they followed. It wasn’t like they had much choice. Stomachs twisting with hesitancy, the gang shared anxious looks before following the old man and stepping further into the unknown.

  EPILOGUE

  THE WORM hit the brakes and pulled to a stop. The folded handkerchief over his mouth and sunglasses were smothered with a thick layer of dust. He tugged them off with shaking hands and took in the scene.

  An odd egg-shaped capsule sat in the middle of the clearing, the likes of which he hadn’t seen since the science fiction movies of his childhood, back when the Fall had been nothing more than a vague fear in the minds of the neurotic. Its door stood open.

  The Worm had no impulse whatsoever to check it out. Then there were the footsteps that ended at the cliff face. Half a footprint lay embedded beneath the mountain as if the whole thing had been dropped from a great height.

  And then there was the thing he couldn’t even bring himself to lay eyes on. The inhuman creature with the long powerful brown limbs and entrails hanging out of its body. Its eyes were green, dulled with lack of life. He knew where he’d seen eyes like that before.

  The Worm considered himself to be one of the great survivors of the modern world. Despite his size and obvious weaknesses, he had managed to thrive. Looking at the scene before him now, at the latest turn the world was taking, he felt afraid. This, he knew, he could not survive.

  “What now?” the Reaver at the Worm’s side said.

  The man had turned to him, thinking him to be their new leader. They needed a man like him to lead them, he knew, especially with this new threat on their doorstep. He was smart enough to know he’d never last long as their leader. His power lay behind the crown, not in front of it.

  “I don’t know about you guys,” the Worm said. “But this whole event has gone down a road I’m not altogether comfortable with. I don’t know what’s happening here, and I don’t care to. You guys do what you want. I’m getting the hell out of here.”

  The Reavers knew what they were supposed to do with deserters. But did any of them really want to hang around with whatever the scene before them foreshadowed?

  The Worm hit the throttle and took off, passing through the clan on his way out of the valley. They watched him pass with confused expressions. Let them see the scene ahead, he told himself. Then they would understand.

  He wouldn’t let up until his tank ran out. Then he would get more gas and keep on going. Maybe nowhere was safe now. That was fine with him. Nowhere sounded a good place to be right now.

  THE CITY

  PROLOGUE

  AN ESTIMATED one hundred and fifty million meteorites and asteroids inhabit our solar system. Adrift, aimless.

  But not all space-bound rocks live without purpose. Some are destined to be fried to a crisp as they sail on a direct collision course with the star at the heart of the solar system. Other times, they get caught in the gravitational pulls of bustling planets. Some become omnipresent moons around larger host planets. And some will crash land into a moon or planet’s surface, leaving an enduring scar for astronomers to study and analyze for centuries to come.

  Right now, a consortium of meteorites, small and clustered, are making a predictable journey across the solar system, heading for Earth’s night sky. They even have a name. The Perseid Shower. One of the greatest natural fireworks displays nature offers.

  A subtle shift in nature’s forces can affect how these rocks fall. An unusual lean in Jupiter’s gravitational pull can change their trajectory a tiny, minuscule amount. Mars, making a last-minute flyby, can alter their projection even further. But even a tiny variation can have a massive effect when measured over eons.

  One week before the shower is due to hit Earth’s atmosphere, a small but significant event is about to take place. It’s not only nature that can force destiny’s finger.

  Approaching a meteorite in full flight mode is not an easy thing to do. Thankfully, the creators of this particular probe were experienced with such maneuvers. A small device like a windscreen wiper brushed off the debris that spun from the meteorite’s craggy surface. The probe edges closer, then closer still, toward the meteorite’s face. Within inches of touching down.

  A crack forms in deathly silence. A large rock splits off the meteorite’s main body and strikes th
e probe, knocking it out of commission. A signal is sent, and another probe takes its comrade’s place. This probe lowered inch by inch, onto the asteroid’s surface. Drills dig into the meteorite, tendrils grasping the rock. It crouches low, and from its underside, a gas sprays the meteorite, injected via its razor-sharp tendrils.

  On the microscopic level, the spray consists of bacteria that glows green, infecting the rock. Beneath the surface, where there is at least a little protection from the constant barrage of space radiation, it has a chance of survival.

  Space is an unbelievably intense environment, harmful to every living thing. Even bacteria struggles to survive. It is torn apart by the endless bombardment of cosmic rays. Bacteria, in its effort to survive, must reproduce faster than the time it takes for the universe to tear it apart.

  It repeats and copies itself over and over in an endless cycle, developing random resistances and a stronger constitution with each new generation. A search for perfection that can never be met and will never end.

  The probe bleeped, sending another signal. Mission complete. Strapped to every large piece of the meteor shower, another drone bleeped. They would remain attached to the meteorites, burning up and disintegrating as they passed into the planet’s atmosphere. Undetectable. Unknown.

  Until it was too late.

  1.

  JAMIE AND Donny were present when their father was stripped naked, washed, scrubbed, and prepped. They were present when he was placed on the gurney and wheeled through the endless disinfected corridors. They were present when the overhead light was switched on and the surgeon slipped the blanket down to Donald’s naval. They were present when the incisions were made with the aid of long metal arms that moved according to the surgeon’s voice commands.

  They were present when the surgeon was covered up to his elbows in their father’s blood when the machines made a high-pitched noise and it looked like it was over. And they were present when the surgeon, after six hours of surgery, finally closed their father up and wheeled him into the corridor.

  2.

  JAMIE AND Donny were physically present for it all. But their minds were somewhere else entirely. The surgeon—the old man who had met them when they’d first arrived at the City—could hardly stand on his own two feet he was so tired.

  “We can take him,” Donny said. “Where do you want him?”

  “In the first private ward on the left,” the old man said. “I’ll hook him up to the machines.”

  He had to. Likely no one else left alive knew how to do it.

  Jamie and Donny wheeled their father into the private room. The old man told them where to place the bed. He attached some wires and leads to Donald’s body, plugging him in.

  Was it good for people to be so dependant on these machines? Jamie thought. If you depended so much on devices, then what would happen when you could no longer use them? When you didn’t know how to do anything yourself? When everything was suddenly so difficult?

  That was precisely what had happened, he realized. The Fall had brought the world to their knees. They’d come from a world of such ease, the machines having taken the brunt of the donkey work off their hands. Then they were cast into the world the way it was now. It must have been quite a shock.

  Many had died simply because they didn’t have the knowledge to survive. For that reason, Jamie was a sight better able to protect himself than someone even as smart as the old man. It was easier to survive when all you had to do was learn how to press a few buttons in the right order. Even the old man didn’t know how to fix the machines. They were equal on that front.

  “Do you want us to clean the operating room?” Jamie said.

  “That won’t be necessary,” the old man said, checking his watch. “I’ve set the machines to do it. In fact, they should be hard at work as we speak.”

  Machines had always been an abstract idea to Jamie. His father had explained to him countless times about how they worked, their purpose. He’d drawn pictures to properly explain what they looked like. He’d even had some old machines they’d found dumped in the desert. A washing machine, his father had called it. He’d laid hands on it like he was greeting an old friend.

  He’d introduced the various moving parts and how they worked together in tandem. Jamie had pretended to understand. It wasn’t until he saw them, like living things, whizzing around and carrying out all manner of tasks, that he fully understood their significance. It made him tired just thinking about the things they could do.

  The ingenuity and creativity of the people from before the Fall never ceased to amaze him. And yet most of them were now gone, dead, wiped from the face of the Earth. They had failed to survive while others far less intelligent had survived. What did that say about the world he and Donny and Fatty had come from?

  “What happens now?” Donny said.

  “Now, we rest,” the old man said. “Your father. Me. All of us. Get something to eat and sleep. You must be exhausted.”

  Jamie looked down. They were still wearing the same clothes they’d worn when they’d gotten to the City. Dirty, dishevelled.

  “You can choose any rooms you like,” the old man said. “I’m located right at the end of the hall. There are dorms if you prefer to stay together, or individual rooms if you want some privacy. Or a combination of both. The entire facility is empty, so do whatever you like. You’ll find plenty of clothes in the children’s ward. You only need take a look.”

  “What happens to Dad now?” Jamie said. “Will he get better?”

  The old man removed his gloves, a puff of powder whispering as the skin-tight plastic was removed.

  “The surgery went well,” he said. “But there might be complications. The wounds he received, they’re very serious, severing several major organs. It’ll take some time for him to heal completely. But I remain optimistic.”

  Just hearing those words, no matter if they were fake or not, made Jamie feel better. He needed some hope to cling to, and the old man had given it to him. He could tell by the relaxing muscles in his brother’s shoulders that he was feeling the same.

  Donald was on the very brink of survival. Life on one side, the unknown abyss of death on the other. He swung like a pendulum from one extreme to the other. Which side he might end up on, no one knew. He’d taken two powerful spikes in the gut from a creature no human eye had ever seen before. As far as Jamie knew, anyway.

  “There’s nothing else we can do for him now,” the old man said. “Besides keeping him comfortable.”

  “Thank you,” Donny said. “For everything.”

  “You’re welcome,” the old man said with a warm smile. “Happy to help. If you don’t mind, there’s a bathtub with my name on it.”

  He turned to leave.

  “Wait,” Jamie said. “Your name. You never told us your name.”

  “Dr. Graham Beck. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Formally.”

  He shook hands with them and left. Two brothers in a strange city, in a bizarre room.

  “I’ll watch him,” Donny said. “Someone should be here when he wakes up. You get something to eat.”

  Jamie looked at their father. Placed a hand on his creased forehead.

  “You really think he’s going to be okay?” he said.

  Donny shrugged.

  “He should be dead already,” he said. “Any extra time is a bonus.”

  His attempt to cheer Jamie up fell flat.

  “You heard the doc,” he said, trying again. “He’s going to have to fight. The good news is Dad has always been a survivor. He’s never lost a fight yet. And I’ve never known him to throw in the towel.”

  Jamie smiled. It was weak. All he was capable of at that moment.

  “I’ll bring you something to eat,” he said.

  Donny gave a nod in reply.

  Jamie moved to the door. Looked back. His brother pulled a chair up beside their father’s bed. Took the giant, tanned, worn skin of his father’s hand between both of his own.

/>   More than anything else that had happened to them the past few days, that image, framed by the doorway, had the greatest impact on Jamie. To see the obvious love and affection from his brother toward his father. Their relationship had, at times, been strained.

  Donny, bearing his father’s name, was always looking to rebel and carve his own way. It couldn’t have been easy living in the commune leader’s shadow. Jamie had no name to bear, no physical resemblance—he took after his mother—so he got off easy. Not that he was always well-behaved.

  He was suddenly very tired. He walked down the corridor, the automatic lights leading him like gingerbread crumbs into the unknown.

  3.

  LUCY AND Fatty had taken the opportunity to select their bedroom—a shared dorm room—and left to fetch food from the cafeteria.

  None of them wanted to be alone. Especially right now. They’d spent too long together, been through too much. Their recent experiences had brought them a whole lot closer than the combined years of regular living in the commune had. Funny how you clubbed together like that.

  “Did anything else come back to you?” Fatty said. “You remembered where you came from and how to get into this place.”

  “It wasn’t really like I remembered it,” Lucy said. “It was more like my body knew what to do. Muscle memory, I think they call it. It’s automatic.”

  “But this is where you came from, right?” Fatty said.

  “Yes, I think so,” Lucy said. “In the memories I have, the rooms looked a lot like this place.”

  Fatty nodded. He wasn’t entirely sure what to make of Lucy. She was a kid, younger than all of them, and yet possessed a kind of confidence and knowledge the rest of them didn’t. Fatty liked to label people, placing them in relevant categories so he knew how to deal with them. Lucy didn’t comfortably fit in any of his pre-made compartments.