Kaiju Winter: An End Of The World Thriller

by Jake Bible

  Lowell looks at Bolton and nods. “You ain’t as dumb as you look, GI Joe.”

  “Gee, thanks,” Bolton says.

  “No bonding,” Lu says, wagging a finger at the two men. “I have no problem putting a bullet in Lowell’s head if I have to. I need you to be the same way, Connor.”

  “I can put a bullet anywhere without hesitation,” Bolton says. “That isn’t a problem.”

  “Chaos buzz kill, dude,” Lowell says to Bolton. “And here I thought we’d shared a moment.”

  A loud wailing echoes through the woods and the party stops dead in their tracks.

  “That one was close,” Bolton whispers.

  “I think we just need to get up over that ridge there and we’ll be looking down at Coeur d’Alene,” Lu says. “We’re almost there.”

  “Then what?” Lowell asks. “We haven’t found a single working car along the way. That means the EMP hit this far too. What makes you think getting to Coeur d’Alene is going to be better than out here in the woods? It’s just a city and cities have a lot of gas stations. According to Sergeant Slaughter, those things like gas stations, right? Aren’t we just walking towards a monster buffet?”

  “We get up over that ridge and then we’ll see what is happening,” Lu says. Another wail rings out and the party starts moving quickly, “unless you want to stay here and just wait for whatever that is?”

  “Not really,” Lowell says. “But I also don’t want to walk into a city where those things could be waiting for us.”

  “What if Coeur d’Alene doesn’t work out?” Bolton asks.

  “Then we head north,” Lu says.

  “Uh, pretty sure Seattle is west,” Lowell counters.

  “If Lu says north then we go north,” Bolton replies.

  “You are so pussy whipped,” Lowell grumbles. “Nut up, dude.”

  “Not even going to dignify that with a response,” Bolton says and walks off.

  “Well, you are!” Lowell calls after him. Lu just glares. “What? I’m right. If you didn’t have a pussy, he wouldn’t even consider doing what you want. Simple nature.”

  Lu shakes her head and stalks after Bolton.

  “You two just don’t want to face the truth!” Lowell calls after them. “The sexual tension is thicker than that ash up there!”

  A couple of the others in the group hike past him, not making eye contact.

  “What? Like you can’t see it? Whatever!”

  ***

  “Wait here,” Moss says as he hands Kyle his pack. “I think I can squeeze through that.”

  Kyle looks at the collapsed mansion and frowns. “Why? You need to get drunk that bad? That place could come down on your head any second.”

  “Just wait here,” Moss says. “And don’t think of running off. I know this town way better than you do. You won’t get away.”

  “Get away to where?” Kyle asks. “I’m standing in a city only a couple miles from a hole in the planet where giant monsters are hanging out. Where exactly am I going to go? Right now that bunker of yours sounds like the best place in the world to be.”

  “And that bunker is out of booze,” Moss grins just as he slides between two hunks of concrete and is lost from sight.

  Kyle turns away from the destroyed mansion and looks off towards the east and where the hole should be. He knows the monsters can’t see him from there, since he can’t see them from here, but he still has a weird feeling like he’s being watched. He checks the area, studying each of the other collapsed mansions that line the once posh street. It strikes him as funny that of all the damage he’s seen to the city, the most is in the rich part of town. Guess they don’t build these houses quite as sturdy as the one story ranch houses back towards the center of town.

  He hears Moss curse and swear, but there’s no screams or calls for help, so Kyle keeps looking around, his mind wondering what life must have been like for the people that had lived in the mansions. He has spent all his life living in a log cabin tucked away in the woods, keeping a low profile and staying out of other people’s business. The neighborhood around him strikes him as the complete opposite of that.

  A sound catches his attention and he cranes his neck, trying to see past two mansions that sit on the edge of what he thinks is a golf course. He’s never seen one in person, so he’s not 100% sure. It could just be a big backyard for all he knows.

  “What you staring at?” Moss asks, making Kyle jump.

  “Thought I heard something,” Kyle says, then sees the two bottles of brown liquid in Moss’s hands. “You found some. Good for you.”

  “Okay, okay, this is getting tiring,” Moss says, holding up the bottles. “Do you really think we’re looking for booze because we want to party?”

  “Yeah,” Kyle says. “Why else would you be looking for it? You said you wanted booze and ladies.”

  “Have you seen any ladies?” Moss asks.

  “No,” Kyle says. “I haven’t seen anyone.”

  “That’s because there isn’t anyone here,” Moss says. “Me and Gil was just fucking with you. We thought it would be funny to make you think we were just some drunk guys ready to party and fuck our way through the end of the world, and you bought it.”

  “I bought it? What the fuck, man?” Kyle snaps. “Why would you do that?”

  “Because we were bored,” Moss shrugs. “You have any idea how long we were in that bunker?”

  “I don’t know,” Kyle says. “A week? A couple of days?”

  “Since July, man,” Moss says. “As soon as the first earthquakes started. Gil and I had found that place a ways back. Spent years fixing it up and adding supplies. We were in there for two weeks during Y2K.”

  “During what?” Kyle asks.

  “Never mind,” Moss smiles. “Before your time, kid. Doesn’t matter anyway. We went in there and some of our friends started showing up over the next couple of weeks as everything got shittier and shittier. We have enough supplies to last us for about two years.” He shakes the bottles of liquor. “Except for booze. Which can be used as a cleanser, an antiseptic, a solvent, and a pain killer.”

  “You want the alcohol for its uses, not because it gets you drunk?” Kyle nods. “Why didn’t you just say that?”

  “Like I said, we’ve been bored,” Moss shrugs. “Seemed like fun to play the post-apocalyptic nutjob role.”

  “Gil doesn’t seem like he’s playing,” Kyle states.

  “Nah, Gil’s okay,” Moss says. “Hates the government, but he’s not totally whacked out. Luke’s the one to be careful of.”

  “Luke?” Kyle asks.

  Moss watches him for a second then nods. “Yeah, you haven’t met him. His mom was like Carrie’s mom, you know, from that Stephen King movie? Used to lock him up in closets and shit. I think the end of the world has brought some of that out in him.” Moss sighs. “But you probably know that with how your dad is.”

  “He’s not my dad,” Kyle snarls.

  “You sure, kid?” Moss asks. “Because there is a kind of resemblance.”

  “No, there isn’t,” Kyle snarls again. “So shut the fuck up about it.” He’s about to say more, but the wind carries the sound of splashing to them and they both turn to look towards the golf course.

  “That what you heard before?” Moss asks.

  “Yeah, I think so,” Kyle says.

  “Weird time for someone to go for a swim,” Moss says. He hands Kyle the liquor, then reaches inside his jacket and pulls out a 9mm pistol. “Come on. Let’s go have a look.”

  “Really?” Kyle says. “Maybe it’s those crazies you were taking about? Unless that was part of the joke.”

  “I wish,” Moss says. “That’s the one part of the end of the world that’s held true. There are always crazies.”

  ***

  Morgie, a man that would stand about six and a half feet tall if he didn’t slouch his shoulders and back so much, stops just as he’s about to try the doorknob to the front door of yet another a
partment. He’s sick of checking the shitty little one bedroom boxes, sure there isn’t any booze hiding in a single one of them, and is about to turn around and tell Paul those very words, when someone taps him on one of his hunched shoulders.

  “What, Paul?” he asks, then starts to shout as he sees Linder’s smiling face instead of his friend.

  The shout never makes it past the gash across his throat as Linder steps back from the spray of blood, wiping the knife he holds on his pants.

  “I’m not Paul,” Linder says, then points the knife at the railing of the second floor walkway that opens onto the parking lot below. “Paul’s down there. Here, have a look.”

  Morgie’s hands are jammed against his neck, desperate to stop the flow of blood, so he doesn’t even try to fight as Linder grabs him by the elbow and yanks him over to the railing.

  “See? There’s Paul,” Linder says, pointing down at a body, head nearly sliced off, as it lies in a pool of blood that slowly flows down into the cracks in the pavement. “You should go see how he is.”

  Linder gives Morgie a shove and the big man topples over the railing. His hands come away from his neck as he flails just before slamming into the ground. The man’s skull cracks open on impact and his brains spill out, adding to the gore of Paul’s blood.

  “Dammit,” Linder swears. “I meant to ask him if he knew where Kyle was.” Linder shrugs and looks towards the stairs. “Oh, well, I’ll find someone else.”

  ***

  Coletti’s head breaks the surface of the water and he frowns at Dr. Probst.

  “I can see it,” he says, “but there’s no way we’ll get it out of here.”

  “Can you open it under water?” she asks.

  “I can,” Coletti replies. “But who knows what’s in there.”

  He takes a deep breath and dives once more, his hands cutting through the water as he swims towards the dark shape of the airdropped crate. It takes Coletti a bit to locate the sensor on the crate that will pop it open, and he’s forced to swim back to the surface for another breath of air.

  “Well?” Dr. Probst asks.

  “Just getting a breath,” Coletti says. He breathes in and out, quickly stretching his lungs so he can get as much air as possible before his next dive. Dr. Probst keeps looking over her shoulder towards a stand of leafless trees. “What?”

  “Nothing,” Dr. Probst says. “Thought I saw something move.”

  Coletti searches the area, turning his body around as he treads water. “If it’s one of those things then you get the hell out of here fast, got it?”

  Dr. Probst frowns at him. “If it’s one of those things, we’d be able to see it clearly. Not like those monsters can duck behind a juniper bush or something and hide.”

  “Just be careful is what I’m saying,” Coletti replies. “And don’t wait around for me. Anything comes at you while I’m underwater, you run like hell. I’ll find you later.”

  “If that something doesn’t get you,” Dr. Probst says.

  “Here’s hoping,” Coletti says, takes a deep breath, and dives once more.

  He swims as fast as he can down to the crate, pulls the CLD from his pocket and places it into a small depression in the crate’s metal. He starts to worry about the air he’s burning as he waits for something to happen. There are several loud clicks and the crate starts to split open from the other side. He smiles and heads back to the surface for one last breath before he searches through the crate.

  He’s a little surprised by what he finds when he surfaces.

  “Hey, there,” Moss says, holding onto Dr. Probst’s arm, his 9mm pointed at her head. “Kinda weird time for a swim, don’t ya think?”

  “You okay?” Coletti asks Dr. Probst. She nods, but doesn’t say anything, her eyes wide with fear as she looks at the barrel of the pistol. “What do you guys want?”

  Coletti sizes up Moss, noting his lanky body type, the way he holds his pistol, where his feet are placed, the distance between him and Dr. Probst. Civilian. And an amateur one. Coletti’s eyes move to Kyle and he’s surprised at the kid’s age. He’s also surprised that the boy doesn’t have a weapon, but holds himself like he knows how to fight. Or at least has had some training. Kid’s probably too young to have ever gotten into a real fight.

  “If you’re going to rob us then just do it and go,” Coletti says. “All of our stuff is right there. Take it and leave us alone, okay?”

  “How about you come out of that water?” Moss says. “Take a seat on the grass and tell me what the hell it is you’re doing.”

  “I needed a bath,” Coletti says. “Just take the stuff and go. We don’t want any trouble.”

  “I don’t want any trouble neither, pal,” Moss says.

  Coletti catches the fact that Moss keeps saying “me” and “I,” not “us” and “we.” That tells him quickly that the man sees himself as separate from the teenager. Or they just met and haven’t gotten used to each other yet. Whatever their relationship, Coletti figures he can use it to his advantage.

  “This what you do?” Coletti asks Kyle. “Point guns at unarmed women? This guy your dad?”

  “I don’t have a dad,” Kyle snaps and Coletti realizes he’s hit a hot button.

  “That so? Your dad bail on you?” Coletti asks. “He leave you alone in all this crap? Who’s this guy to you then? He your uncle? Nah, I don’t think so. He take you captive, is that it? Hold you hostage like he’s doing to my friend now?”

  “We’re old friends,” Moss says. “Now shut up and get out of the water.”

  “Old friends?” Coletti asks, swimming closer to the shore. “Really? What’s the kid’s name?”

  “Kyle,” Moss smirks. “So shut up.”

  “What’s his last name?” Coletti smiles, getting closer to the shore with every word.

  Moss doesn’t answer. He looks over at Kyle then back at Coletti. “Shut up.”

  “Yeah, you two are best buddies,” Coletti laughs as he reaches the shore and pulls himself out of the water. He grabs onto the dead grass, but a clump comes away in his hand and he slips back, falling on his ass.

  “Jesus, you retarded or something?” Moss asks.

  “That is not a nice word to use,” Dr. Probst says.

  “Gee, I’m sorry,” Moss replies. He jabs the pistol at her head and she cringes, a small cry escaping her lips.

  “Calm down,” Coletti says. “I’m getting out. Just be cool with that gun, okay?”

  Coletti gets to the shore again and this time, he gets all the way out of the water before slipping and falling into the dead grass at Moss’s feet.

  “Son of a bitch,” Coletti mutters. “This just sucks.”

  Moss looks down at the man and shakes his head, and then points with the pistol at the pile of clothes. “Now, why don’t you go over there and empty those pockets. Show me what you’re holding.”

  Yep, total amateur.

  As soon as Moss points his pistol away from Dr. Probst’s head, Coletti reaches out and grabs the man’s ankles, pulling his feet out from under him. Before Moss’s ass hits the ground, Coletti is up and leaping onto the man, his fist hitting Moss square in the jaw.

  The 9mm goes flying and Coletti gets three more hits in before Moss starts crying out for him to stop. He tries to bring his arms up to block Coletti, but his pathetic attempts to defend himself are just swatted away and more blows slam into his face.

  “Hey!” Kyle yells, the 9mm in his hand as he stands a few feet away from everyone. “Stop it!”

  Coletti lets one more punch connect before he rolls off of Moss and gets to his feet, his eyes locked onto Kyle.

  “You aren’t going to shoot me,” Coletti says.

  Kyle pulls back the slide and grips the pistol, his finger close to the trigger and his other hand cupped underneath. Coletti recognizes that the boy knows how to shoot, but is banking on the kid not knowing how to kill.

  “Put it down, son,” Coletti says, taking a step towards Kyle.

&
nbsp; The gunshot is loud in the dead city and Dr. Probst screams as the bullet kicks up a chunk of dirt at Coletti’s feet.

  “Tell us who you are,” Kyle says. He looks Coletti over. “What are you? Navy SEALs? You have a trident tattoo.”

  “Very good, kid,” Coletti says. “I am Navy.” He points at the water trap. “And there’s something in that water I need to get. You are keeping me from that duty.”

  “What is it?” Kyle asks.

  “I don’t know yet,” Coletti says. “It was airdropped. Probably under the president’s orders.”

  “The president? Why would he airdrop something to you?” Kyle asks.

  “Kid, I’ve told you what I know,” Coletti answers. “I won’t know the whys or whats until I go down there and check it out. So either shoot me and end this or put that damn gun away and let me do my job.”

  Kyle and Coletti lock eyes and stare at each other.

  “Fine,” Kyle says, easing the hammer home on the pistol. “Go get whatever it is. We’ll wait here.”

  “I don’t know how I feel about that,” Coletti says as he looks over at the bloody Moss.

  “We won’t hurt your friend,” Kyle says. “And it’s Morgan, by the way.”

  “What?” Coletti asks, confused.

  “My last name,” Kyle says, putting the 9mm in the waistband of his pants. “My last name is Morgan.”

  “Good to know,” Coletti smiles then nods at the pistol. “Gonna shoot your dick off if you keep that there, Kyle Morgan.”

  “Yeah, well, not like I’ll ever get to do anything with it,” Kyle snorts. “The end of the world is here and like Moss said to me, there’s no ladies left.”

  Coletti shakes his head and chuckles. “You’re a strange kid, Kyle. But you seem like a good one too. Keep Dr. Probst safe and make sure your old friend there doesn’t try anything.”