Tails of the Apocalypse

by David Bruns

  As he motioned for Via to follow and they headed back to the colony, Vic wished they’d never flown this way. He had a bad feeling about what was going to happen when they reported back to the council that Humans were nearby.

  Four

  As word of the Humans’ discovery swept through both colonies, reactions were mixed. Many Bats and Budgies alike held the opinion that the Humans should be left alone to either destroy themselves or thrive, as nature determined. Others were more vocal in their protests, demanding something be done about them to ensure the safety of the colonies.

  Budgie Elders Max and Hettie were discussing the issue when Bongse and Magsay, the Bat Elders on the council, joined them.

  “We should just leave them be and observe only,” Max was saying. “As it is, they’re in no position to harm us, nor would they be likely to even if they were capable of doing so.”

  “While I agree with you for the most part,” Hettie nodded, “I do think it would be in our best interests to be prepared, just in case they attempt to relocate to Davao.”

  Bongse spoke up then. “Hettie is correct. We must be prepared for the eventuality that the Humans will migrate back to the mainland and threaten us. We must take steps to prevent them destroying what we’ve built and will build in the future. They’ve had their time to shine, to rule this planet. They squandered that chance and destroyed themselves in the process. And how many other species as well? No, we cannot allow them the opportunity to do again as they did before … and, perhaps, destroy more than themselves this time.”

  Magsay flexed her wings in agreement. “I agree, Bongse, but what can we do? We don’t have the capability to defend ourselves or our colonies like you suggest. We rule the trees and the air. This is something best left to those who rule on the ground—the Dogs and Cats and Rats.”

  “While that may be true, we cannot rely on the others to fight our battles for us. And I will not turn over our fate to those who might make peace with the Humans. I don’t trust Humans to honor any such peace treaties,” Bongse replied.

  “Then what would you have us do, Bongse?” asked Max. “Attack and destroy them before they can destroy us? How many of us would you kill with that course? You’re suggesting the same kind of rash action that resulted in the Humans destroying themselves. Are we to become like they are now out of some misguided attempt to avoid extinction at their hands? Now, wouldn’t that be ironic! What’s your opinion, Hettie? You’re unusually quiet.”

  Hettie appeared hesitant to speak. Finally, with a deep breath, she began. “Max, I have given Bongse’s suggestion a great deal of thought, and I must concur with his assessment. We must take action now to defend ourselves, while we have the advantage. Magsay is too meek to admit this, but I can see it in her eyes—she feels as I do … as we all should. The Humans may be harmless now, but they will not be so in the future. History shows us the course of the future. They’ll multiply and spread as they did before. They’ll consume everything they touch.” Hettie swallowed hard. Very quietly, she said, “They mustn’t be allowed to live.”

  As Hettie spoke, a grim coldness settled into Bongse’s eyes, but Max looked shocked by what his fellow Budgie was suggesting. Magsay seemed sad but didn’t argue with Hettie.

  “We must see how the others in the colonies feel about this,” Max sputtered. “We cannot make a decision this momentous without the input of all who will be affected.”

  “Very well,” Hettie stated. “A meeting of the colonies has been called for, and we will hear arguments both for and against action regarding the Human camp. Whatever action—or inaction—is deemed necessary will be decided tomorrow by all of us … together.”

  * * *

  “This is so unreal, Kal. I can’t believe this is happening.”

  Shaking her wings and chirping quietly, Tal—sister to Kal, the Bat pup on the council—was beside herself. The pair had been eavesdropping on the Elders’ conversation, though Kal could have joined it as a council member. Instead, he’d chosen to remain hidden in the shadows. “We have to go and talk to the others! We have to get a handle on this before a huge mistake is made.”

  Kal sighed, drawing his sister away as the Elders went their separate ways. “We have until tomorrow, although I don’t know what good we can do in just a few hours.”

  “We must try to convince the others that the Humans don’t deserve whatever it is Bongse and Hettie have planned for them. I’m afraid of what will become of all of us if we don’t use restraint now, when we have the opportunity to show mercy.”

  “Let’s find Vic and Via and see where the other young Budgies stand,” Kal suggested.

  Tal nodded her head with nervous energy. “If they don’t stand on the side of reason, we’re all doomed,” she said. “Surely they’ll listen.”

  “I wish I could maintain your sense of optimism, Sister. But I don’t think it’s going to be that easy.”

  * * *

  When they found Vic and Via, the two Budgies were heavily debating the Human question. Judging by the amount of tension in the air, they were clearly on opposite sides of the issue.

  “It’s just as Elder Bongse says, Vic. The Humans must not be allowed to survive and thrive. It cannot happen, or we’ll all suffer the consequences.”

  “Your opinion is colored by your past experience with Humans, not by rational thought,” her brother answered. He was clearly becoming agitated. “As a whole, we outnumber these Humans by millions to one. They cannot now, or ever again, pose a threat to our survival. It’s insane to think otherwise.”

  “And I suppose your opinion isn’t influenced by your experience with the Humans you lived with?” retorted Via, her wings flapping anxiously. “And you call me biased! You’re a hypocrite, Vic!”

  Her brother leaned back, scratching at her underbelly with a claw, and soon both birds were striking each other with claw and wing as only siblings can, screeching and flinging curses at one another.

  “See, Tal, I told you it wasn’t going to be that easy,” Kal said dryly as they approached. Both Bats were careful to give the feuding pair a wide berth.

  “Guys! Cut it out!” implored Tal. “We have to talk about this rationally!”

  After a few moments of continued pleading by Tal, the Budgies reluctantly separated and set about preening themselves to put their feathers back in order and calm the ire coursing through them. In a short time, they were even preening each other carefully, almost lovingly. Their anger had burned brightly, but also passed quickly.

  “Look, I can understand both sides of the argument,” continued Tal, “as I think most can. But don’t you think we should err on the side of caution rather than resort to brutality among ourselves or against the Humans?” Tal said. “Haven’t we always damned them for choosing that very course?”

  “I guess, when you put it that way,” Via grudgingly admitted. “The last thing I want to be is like a Human.”

  “We’ve spoken with many of the other Budgies and they’re as torn as we are,” Vic explained. “It’s going to come down to how the Elders speak about the matter, I think. Their opinion will likely sway the younger birds. One way or the other.”

  “This is not good news,” Kal replied. “If what you say is true, we might just be going to war.”

  Five

  The next day, both colonies met and arguments commenced. Many on both sides were neutral and couldn’t care less what was decided. That is, until Bongse spoke. His words chilled all but the world-weariest of Budgies and Bats present.

  “Humans rose to power by eating one another, by trampling on those species they considered lesser and then consuming them too. As the Human population grew, so did their greed, their lust for power and domination—not only over the weakest of their own species, but over all they could conquer. They treated their home, our Earth, with such disdain that it rose up and consumed them. A just fate, that.

  “I feel no sorrow or pity for these creatures. I feel nothing at all for them, j
ust as they felt nothing at all for the lives they extinguished. I would not see them come to power again. We must end them now, here, while we have a chance. Not only must we exterminate those five so close to discovering our colonies, but we must seek out survivors elsewhere and destroy them as well. Humans must never again be allowed to have the power of life and death over other creatures.

  “We must, as one force of Budgies and Bats, rise up and strike down the enemy. Go forth and retrieve any weapon you can fit in your talons and claws. We—with our millions of wings strong—will rain down a final fate upon these creatures who would become masters again over a world where no masters are or ever were needed. Nature is and should be our only master, and nature demands this final sacrifice of life to guarantee the survival of all.”

  The chamber erupted as Bats and Budgies argued fiercely with angry words sharp as talons. But soon the naysayers were shouted down by Bongse’s supporters, who’d been whipped into a frenzy of fear by his ominous warning. Some seemed ready to take flight at that very moment.

  “Think about what you’re doing here, Bongse,” Vic cried out. “We cannot behave this way and expect to survive our—”

  “The decision has been made, Vic,” Bongse replied coldly. “The majority agree that we have no choice.”

  “What? I didn’t hear a vote! There must be an alternative to murdering them with no provocation!”

  “Enough, Vic! It is done.”

  For several long moments, no one made a sound. The pervasive quiet was eerie and uncomfortable in the wake of Bongse’s pronouncement. Finally, the silence was broken as Budgies and Bats alike took wing to do his bidding and carry out the attack. Amidst the flurry of activity, a minority began once again to argue against the Bat Elder’s final solution to the Human problem. But it was too little too late.

  Paralyzed by the chaos around them, Vic and Kal, the Younglings on the council, faced a difficult choice. Should they choose to speak out further against Bongse, they could be exiled from their respective colonies. At the very least, they would likely lose their positions on the council and be shamed, with derision and scorn heaped upon them, should they choose to stay. Seeing no real chance to dissuade their species from their murderous course, Vic, Via, Kal, and Tal raced to the Human settlement to try to warn them.

  But by the time the Younglings arrived the Humans were already dead. The Human elders had clearly died protecting the young as wave after wave of Bats and Budgies flew sorties over their small camp, first pelting them with sticks, stones, and shells from above before ripping them apart with beaks and claws and teeth. They’d had no chance to retreat to their cave for protection. In the end, their pitted flesh and broken bodies would lie unburied in the sun, their lives forgotten by all but the few who’d shunned the slaughter.

  * * *

  When it was all over, when the attack was finally halted and the victory celebration by most had begun, the Younglings made a decision regarding their future with the colonies. Vic and Via, Kal and Tal, and less than a hundred others of both species requested an audience with the council Elders.

  Though he dreaded it, Vic began the conversation that would change their lives forever.

  “Council Elders Bongse, Magsay, Hettie, and Max. As you know, we council Younglings were opposed, for the most part, to your decision to eradicate the Humans. We feel that, with a little more consideration and a little more time, we could have found a better alternative, some other way to ensure the safety of the colonies. We feel that you acted just as the Humans of old would have. And by doing so, you’ve proven they were not the only creatures on this planet who are selfish and greedy, malicious and murderous.

  “Your actions, whether you realize it or not, have doomed these colonies to collapse. You’ve planted the seeds of hatred within your own colonists, and before long these seeds will no doubt spring forth to kill all that you see, all that you now hold dear. The very thing you were so afraid of in Humans has now taken root in our own society—and that’s your doing. You have become the very thing you so feared and despised.

  “I am ashamed—I am mortified—to have witnessed your act of barbarism against the Humans. I cannot be a member of a society that sanctions such slaughter. So it’s with a heavy heart that I must hereby resign from my position on the council. Kal also offers his resignation. We, along with the others in the colonies who agree with us, will depart immediately to begin our own colonies as far away from this tragedy as possible.”

  The council Elders gaped, speechless, as Vic exited the meeting chamber followed by his sister, Kal, Tal, and the Bats and Budgies who would leave with them. None, not even the firebrand Bongse, could utter a word as they left.

  Max seemed sad but resigned to Vic’s words. He knew them to be true. And a similar light of understanding was dawning on the faces of Magsay and Hettie. Understanding and loss. And a deep sense of mourning.

  * * *

  At daybreak the next day, the hundred or so new colonists began their journey to a new land and a new life. The Budgies would fly by day and the Bats would fly by night, each group meeting at sunset and sunrise to further plan their travels until they found a suitable place to settle down and begin life anew.

  A Word from Todd Barselow

  Todd with George and Tori.

  I’m best known for my work as an editor who specializes in assisting independently publishing authors. I’m also known as the senior editor at Imajin Books, a small Canadian publisher, whose books are widely read and enjoyed around the world. All told, I’ve worked on more than 200 books in my career as an editor. I’m also the owner and publisher of Auspicious Apparatus Press, which produces quality fiction in ebook, paperback, and audiobook formats.

  I’m a frequent contributor to Anne Rice’s official Facebook page and have been dubbed by Anne as a Pillar of the Page—one who frequently contributes content considered worthwhile by Anne.

  I live in Davao City, Philippines, with my wife and four lovely little Budgie birds—Max, Charlie, Bleu, and Sandy. “Wings of Paradise” is my first published short story.

  Ghost Light

  by Steven Savile

  They told us we didn’t need to be afraid of the Russians anymore. They told us that they were our friends. What that meant was that we neutralized each other. Mutually assured destruction. That’s not the same as friendship.

  We weren’t meant to worry when they annexed the Ukraine, they said. That was just reclaiming what was already theirs. Most of the Crimea was still Russian in their hearts, if not their passports. That’s what they told us. They made excuses when the missiles first launched into Syria, a scorched-earth policy meant to burn the land and ISIS with it. Or IS or ISIL or whatever we called the terrorists back then.

  Most of us just believed what we were told. The Russians were the greatest threat we’d ever faced. They were the scourge of the East. They were the root of all Evil—capital E evil, not the small stuff—but we weren’t meant to worry because our friends were on the case. Their missiles and bombs and guns would cleanse the world, and we’d line the streets and cheer when our boys came home from the front as heroes.

  That’s what they told us.

  Pity is, it was all a pack of lies.

  I don’t remember when it all started to unravel. Maybe there wasn’t a single defining moment. We like to think of things in neat terms. We look for a tipping point, an Archduke Ferdinand moment, but sometimes life—and especially death—just aren’t that clean.

  I’m part of an older generation. We were brought up knowing our enemies were big things with little names: diseases like AIDS and HIV, superflus and flesh-eating bacteria. We knew we were destroying the world with our CFCs and polluting it by burning fossil fuels. But we were selfish. We wanted to drive our Escalades and our muscle cars and didn’t give a crap about our carbon footprint. We were here, this was our world, our one life, and we’d damn well live it the way we wanted to.

  And then the Russians changed everyth
ing.

  It was hard to believe that some craggy-faced vodka drinker could actually do it—lean forward and press the button. But he did. It probably wasn’t how I imagine it. The end of the world seldom is.

  I like to imagine him knowing exactly what he was doing, lining up some ridiculously expensive Cohiba cigar and a bottle of Stoli, a well-thumbed copy of Das Kapital beside them, the holy trinity for a Russian patriot. I can imagine him clipping off the end of the cigar and sucking in the smoke, puff-puff-puff, followed by a long exhalation as smoke rings drifted up in front of his face. Then he washes the taste out of his mouth with one last, perfect shot of vodka and turns to a passage in the good book that brings him comfort. Because it’s a big thing, ending the world. The act needs a certain resigned serenity to it, a certain ritual. I don’t want to think about power brokers in a nuclear bunker arguing about times to detonation, viable targets, and strategic strikes. I guess I want to believe it was a better world back then.

  I know it isn’t a better world now.

  I was one of the lucky few. Or the unlucky few, depending upon your perspective. I was airborne on a 747 flying from Munich to London. Going home. Only, it turned out, there was no home to go to. We watched the clouds rise like fungus from the earth, the nuclear winds battering the hull, forcing the pilot to rise higher. The shockwaves came again and again like tidal surges. Of the 418 passengers, 197 didn’t want to land. They argued it would be better to fly until the fuel ran out and hope the plane came down in the ocean because that was a fast death. That way we’d not have to watch what had happened to the world. Two hundred and twenty-one people refused to give up hope. Two hundred and twenty-one people damned everyone on Flight BA949.