Extinction

by J. T. Brannan

  His men did the same, firing their weapons in a continuous barrage until there was no ammunition left. He watched in disbelief as the woman pulled herself up the towline and into the glider, marvelling at how strong she must be. How fearless.

  He hung his head on his chest as the glider moved further and further away. He would just have to hope they would crash.

  ‘We’re going to crash!’ Jack announced as soon as Alyssa pulled herself, agonized and breathless, into the cabin and settled into the second seat in the tiny aircraft. ‘I’ve got no idea what I’m doing!’

  ‘It’s OK,’ she said between ragged breaths. ‘You’re doing fine.’ The most important thing, of course, was that they were leaving the base far behind them. Other than that, she didn’t really have any more idea than Jack.

  ‘How do we land one of these things?’ Jack asked, handing over control of the stick to Alyssa.

  ‘I’ve got no idea,’ Alyssa admitted.

  It was dark outside and despite the moonlight, she struggled to make out what was in front of them. Or, she realized, where the ground was. It was white below her, but they could be at any height at all.

  ‘Are those branches?’ Jack asked as he looked out of the side window. Before Alyssa could turn her head, the first impact made the glider lurch hard in the air.

  ‘Yes!’ Alyssa coughed as they were hit again, harder this time. ‘We’re landing already. In the trees.’

  She just had time to assume the crash position before another impact jolted the glider up and over itself, the tail now the highest point, the nose aimed straight down at the forest floor below. The light aircraft bounced down between the tree trunks to the snow-covered ground, and the world went black as Alyssa passed out.

  One hour later, General Tomkin put the telephone down and poured himself a drink from the cabinet behind his desk.

  He tried not to get angry, but it was a struggle. He drank the amber liquid down in one and poured himself another, feeling a little better already.

  The day had started off well, with news of the successful first full test of Spectrum Nine, but the phone call he’d just had from Colonel Anderson had soured his mood considerably.

  To his utter disbelief, it seemed that the woman who had avoided being killed at the amusement park was a journalist. And not only that, she had also managed to infiltrate the base – while the test was being carried out – and access information from the computer files. She had then escaped from the base with a senior staff member, in a glider, of all things! Apparently the glider had crash-landed out in the forest, but when Anderson and his men had arrived, the pair were long gone.

  Anderson still had search parties out after them but Tomkin wasn’t holding out much hope. He would have to assume they would escape, and that they would use the information they had. What he therefore had to do was damage control.

  What could the woman have found out? Jack Murray was a senior computer technician and had access to most of the information kept at HIRP, including full technical details of the weapon. He didn’t have direct access but those details were on file, and if the pair knew what they were looking for, it was conceivable they would have found something dangerously revealing.

  Tomkin sighed as he wondered what to do. Should he alert all the agencies, label them terrorists and have them picked up? The trouble there, of course, was that they would have the chance to talk to too many people before Tomkin’s own trusted aides could get to them, and whatever information they had would be out in the open.

  Tomkin studied Alyssa Durham’s file, trying to assess what she would do. Assuming she had physical evidence with her of Spectrum Nine, would she just run to the nearest internet café and put it all on the web?

  His instinct told him that she wouldn’t; people published things on the internet all the time, and most of it was all but ignored. People only trusted information if it came from a reputable source, and that meant the mainstream media. Alyssa Durham would almost certainly contact James Rushton and convince him to publish a full report in the newspaper. She was a professional, after all, Tomkin reasoned. He would still order an instant block on all her email accounts, as well as her website and blog, just in case she did decide to post anything, and he would do the same for Murray too. But Rushton was the key.

  Tomkin picked up the phone again to order round-the-clock surveillance on the newspaper editor and his assistants, including twenty-four-hour monitoring of all communications into and out of the Post building.

  Satisfied that he had done what he could, he relaxed back in his chair and stared at his own computer, thinking about the additional information it contained.

  At least, he thought, they didn’t break in here.

  11

  ALYSSA LOOKED AT the man over the small desk, hoping he wouldn’t notice the state she was in.

  She had replaced her old clothes, which had been soaked through and muddy, but she hadn’t been able to completely rid her face of the dirt which covered it, nor disguise the two-inch gash on her forehead from the crash landing, not to mention the numerous small scabs which now crossed her hands and knees from the broken glass.

  Oh, who am I trying to kid? she thought. Of course he’ll notice.

  But strangely, the man paid almost no attention to her as he signed her in to the motel, concentrating instead on his computer. He was obviously watching the news, and seemed to be emailing and texting at the same time. Whatever he was watching, it had certainly got his attention; she just hoped it didn’t have anything to do with her or Jack.

  The phone rang and he picked it up instantly, all but ignoring his motel’s new guest. ‘Hey, man, so what do you think?’ he asked, before his eyes went wide in disbelief. ‘You mean you haven’t heard? An entire island was destroyed,’ he said. ‘What? I don’t know, one of the little ones out in the middle of the ocean. An earthquake ripped it in half, and then a tidal wave wiped it off the face of the planet. It’s gone, man. Completely gone. It was little, but it still had thousands of people living there, and they’re dead, man, dead and gone, every last one of them. It’s on every channel. I can’t believe it.’ The man seemed so wired Alyssa wondered if he was on drugs of some kind.

  He held out the cabin key for Alyssa, who took it and turned to leave, still listening to the conversation behind her.

  ‘So what do you think, man? I mean, do you think we’ve had it? Is it gonna be the end of the world?’

  And then Alyssa was gone, terrified by the thoughts which were flying through her mind.

  Jack was waiting for her outside – they’d both thought it best that they weren’t seen together, as Anderson was probably searching for a couple rather than a single individual. Besides which, Alyssa was the only one with money, as Jack hadn’t been carrying anything on him when he’d left his room to find her back at the base.

  After the glider had crash-landed, they had both been unconscious. For how long, they didn’t know; but mercifully they woke up before Anderson and his men had made it to the scene.

  The glider had gone further than they’d thought; the forest they’d crashed into was not the one surrounding the base but was actually a smaller bit of woodland past Allenburg and over towards the next town. They had managed to make it on foot into town and then buy bus tickets south. They were both busted up pretty bad, but bought some supplies and a first aid kit from a store, and also used the opportunity to buy new clothes. Alyssa had to use her credit card, which she knew would prove where they’d been; but she also knew that when Anderson found the glider it would be pretty obvious anyway.

  The bus had taken them on a route south for several hours, Alyssa and Jack fearful at every stop that they would finally be found. Eventually, Alyssa suggested getting off before their final destination. It was possible that Anderson’s men would find the office where they’d bought their tickets and discover the route, maybe even fly someone to the final destination to intercept them.

  When they got off in a small town, t
hey quickly managed to hitch a lift, going east to better mask their trail. They knew they had to turn south again eventually, and so when they saw the roadside motel, they’d asked to stop. They would rest the night and continue on in the morning; they were so exhausted that they just couldn’t function any longer without some sleep.

  Alyssa waved the key at Jack and gestured over to one of the linked cabins to one side of the horseshoe-shaped arrangement. He nodded and started to walk over.

  As they met, Alyssa looked at him, worry and fear clear across her features. ‘We need to watch the TV,’ she said.

  ‘Oh no,’ Jack groaned as Alyssa unlocked the door to let them in, ‘don’t tell me we’re on there already?’

  ‘No,’ she said uneasily. ‘I think it might be much worse than that.’

  As they watched in horror, everything Alyssa had heard the man say on the telephone was confirmed. The island nation had been destroyed in its entirety last night, every last man, woman and child swept to their deaths by the largest tsunami the world had seen in recent history.

  Luckily, because the island was out in the middle of the ocean, and due to the direction of travel, the tsunami had over six thousand miles to go before it hit anything else, and the latest reports were that it had completely dissipated before hitting any major landmass. But the effect on the rest of the world seemed to be electrifying – citizens of every country were up in arms, demanding to know what their governments were doing to save them from similar catastrophes. The doomsday scenarios being preached on the streets of every major city in the world were now being taken seriously even by the conservative media.

  But there was one piece of information which Alyssa found even more alarming. ‘Jack,’ she breathed, ‘the earthquake that destroyed the island and created that tsunami started at about two o’clock in the afternoon, for that time zone. Which means it was about eight o’clock at night up here.’

  Jack nodded his head. She didn’t have to spell it out for him; it was barely minutes after the radar array had sent that unified blast of pure energy up into the heart of the aurora. He touched her hand and she knew he was as horrified as she was.

  What was the purpose of such a device? Who was going to be using it? The obvious answer was the military forces of her own country. But did they have authorization, or was it hidden from Congress, the Senate, even the President himself? And more importantly, just what were they going to do with it? Alyssa still had no idea what the information was that she’d managed to get out of HIRP, or what use she could put it to. She felt her pocket, checking that the flash drive was still safe.

  She knew she had to try and get in touch with James Rushton but she was concerned about how to do that. Anderson would surely be watching him now. And probably everyone else at the Post too, she thought uncomfortably.

  She needed to relax if she was going to get any constructive thinking done. She stood up and moved towards the bathroom. ‘I’m taking a bath,’ she told Jack, who just nodded, still transfixed by the television screen.

  Alyssa leant her head back on to the edge of the bath and luxuriated in the hot, foamy water.

  She was thinking now about Jack Murray. It had been years since Patrick had died, and she knew it was silly, but she couldn’t help feeling as if she had betrayed him in some way. Anna, too. What would Anna think? And she started to realize, perhaps for the first time since it happened, why she felt so much guilt in her personal relationships, why there hadn’t been anyone else. It wasn’t because of Patrick; it was because of Anna. Deep down, she hated herself for letting her little girl die. She despised herself, and the years hadn’t lessened the feelings one bit. She blamed herself for Anna’s death, it was her fault, no matter how much counselling said otherwise, and so she’d sabotaged any chance she’d had for her own happiness. This was why she had shut herself off from other people, why even when she went on dates, she was already pushing men away. It wasn’t because she didn’t like them; it was because she didn’t like herself. She couldn’t forgive herself, and wanted to punish herself.

  But didn’t she deserve some sort of happiness? Wasn’t it time to let go? She thought again of Jack, and was again hit by feelings of guilt, this time for involving him. What had she done? Basically, she’d ruined his life. He’d really had nothing to do with any of it, and just because he’d been caught with her, he would now be marked for death. Patrick, Anna, and now Jack. It was too much.

  But what could she do? The die had been cast. Even if they split up, Jack would still be a target. No, she decided, the best thing would be for them to work together until they cracked this thing. Jack was a computer genius, after all, and might even find some way of contacting Rushton covertly. It was worth discussing with him, anyway.

  They hadn’t talked much on the way here, not wanting people to hear what they had to say, but Alyssa could tell that Jack had accepted his lot; it was clear he understood he was a target and he had never even mentioned going alone. She knew it was selfish but she was glad; the truth was, she felt good being with him. Perhaps she liked Jack so much because he had made her forget to hate herself.

  She sighed, and slipped her head under the water, the warmth cascading over her face, through her hair.

  ‘Alyssa?’ she heard him call from the main room. ‘I think you should come and watch this.’

  12

  OSWALD UMBEBE WAS sitting in the newsroom, on a couch across from the anchor, a popular host called Jonny Watts. The title on the screen read, ‘Are the Days of Planet Earth Numbered?’

  Alyssa recognized the man being interviewed, it was the same charismatic preacher she’d seen that first day near the city square. He was even wearing the same eye-catching white robe and golden head- and armbands.

  She turned to Jack, who seemed to be watching her for a reaction.

  ‘I saw him once,’ Alyssa told him. ‘Back home, he was preaching after the bats came.’

  Jack nodded. ‘Yeah, they seem to be getting something of a following. I’ve been seeing news reports that membership is increasing by the thousands.’ He stopped talking as the interview began on the small screen in front of them.

  ‘So, Oswald,’ Watts began. ‘May I call you Oswald?’

  Umbebe smiled graciously. ‘You may call me whatever you wish,’ he said, and Alyssa was again struck by his deep, melodic voice. ‘As you know, I believe that we are all destined to die – very soon – and so names and titles have ceased to be important.’

  ‘And yet you are still the “high priest” of your order,’ Watts pointed out.

  Umbebe raised his hands. ‘What can I do? I have responsibilities that I cannot avoid. I want to live my life in a positive manner until the end.’

  ‘But you are recruiting,’ Watts persisted, ‘are you not?’

  ‘We are,’ Umbebe confirmed, ‘and I think I understand where you are going with this.’ He smiled at the presenter. ‘You are trying to suggest that our order is attempting to capitalize on recent events, yes? That we are in some way trying to profit from this calamity.’

  Watts held Umbebe’s gaze. ‘Are you?’ he asked.

  ‘What do your reporters tell you? If they have done their research, you will know that we receive no financial contributions from our followers. What then would our purpose be?’

  ‘To be honest, that’s what I want to get to the bottom of. What do you want?’

  Umbebe sat back on the couch, relaxed. His mode of dress, in stark contrast to that of Watts and utterly ridiculous in most circumstances, seemed to be the perfect choice for the man; he radiated confidence and charisma.

  ‘I want everyone to accept the inevitable. I want everyone to accept the fact that they – we – are all going to die. All of us. It is a cycle, you see.’ Alyssa was hypnotized by him, just as Watts seemed to be. ‘The world’s eternal cycle. The earth was created, and it is designed to go through cycles of destruction and regeneration, until it is finally sucked into the sun and obliterated in its entirety. Bu
t until this final ending – possibly billions of years away – it must still be periodically purged.

  ‘We have seen this happen many times over the millennia. There is a great cataclysm, resulting in mass extinctions, the end of life as it is known at that time, and this is then followed by a period of renewal, of regeneration.

  ‘Just consider everything we experience directly in life. We are born, we live – through various ups and downs – and then we die. Day turns into night, turns back into day. The sun rises, the sun sets. The tide comes in and it goes back out. Blood circulates around our bodies. If it stays still, it stagnates and dies. Every single cell in our bodies is destroyed and regenerated on a six-year cycle. Do you disagree with any of this?’

  Watts just shook his head, entranced by Umbebe.

  ‘Well, why is it so hard to accept that the earth itself follows just such a pattern? My order has charted each mass extinction event over the course of millennia, and we have predicted that the next will occur this year. We are certain of it. But I do not say these things to frighten, only to educate. Do we try and hold on to the cells in our bodies? No, we do not. We let the body get on with it, and regenerate itself. We, too, should not get in the way of the earth as it purges itself. It is necessary.

  ‘And so you ask me why. Why do I recruit for the order if not for financial gain? I will tell you why. I recruit so that the people of earth can understand what is to happen, so that they can welcome it, rejoice in it, be a part of it. And I want to tell people, do not be afraid. We are to be sacrificed for a greater good. If we do not die, if life as we now know it is not purged, then the earth will suffer, and this will ultimately bring about its own early death. So, I implore everyone, accept your fate. There is no other choice.’

  Alyssa watched as Watts, normally so quick off the mark, just stared at his guest, contemplating his words.

  ‘This man seems so sure of himself,’ she said in wonder. ‘But why?’