by Mike Kraus
“Son of a bitch, that kid led us into a trap!” Leonard stomped on the accelerator, lurching the APC forward toward the riders. Instead of scattering as he expected, they stayed clustered together, their weapons held high and pointed straight at the vehicle. Leonard started to turn his head to avoid watching as he plowed through the group of men and horses, when a flash of light followed by a blinding explosion jerked the armored car to one side, throwing it across the road and straight into a building. Only after it had penetrated nearly to the opposite side of the building did the engine sputter to a stop.
Disoriented and confused, Leonard and Nancy shook their heads to try and clear their vision in the aftermath of the explosion. Leaning back in his seat, Leonard took Nancy by the hand and whispered hoarsely to her. “Are you hurt?”
Nancy was pressed up against the door of the vehicle even though she was still strapped into her seat, the multi-point harness digging into her body, but keeping her from being badly injured. She looked down at her body, feeling a second set of seatbelt bruises that were starting to form across her chest. She spoke softly to Leonard, still unsure what had happened to them. “No, I think I’m okay. Are you?”
Leonard shook his head, quickly regaining his faculties. He pressed the ignition switch on the APC, finding to his dismay that it would no longer start. The sound of voices came from outside the building, drawing closer and accompanied by the breath and soft whinny of horses. Leonard fumbled at his leg for his pistol, drawing it from his holster just as a face appeared at the door of the APC. The figure attached to the face pulled open the door and a hand darted in, ripping the pistol from Leonard’s grasp before he could flip the safety off.
Another hand appeared in the passenger door, similarly disarming Nancy, rendering both of them helpless. The image of assault rifles danced into view through Nancy’s blurry vision as she realized that the armed intruders were pulling them from the APC, though it was much gentler than she was expecting. On Leonard’s side, he didn’t try to struggle against the intruders, but let his body go limp as they pulled him out of his seat, dragging him across the street and up a flight of stairs into a nearby building. Nancy was brought in next, and the two of them were laid out on small cots arranged in the upper floor of the building. Nancy and Leonard both groggily swatted at their captors, but were still far too disoriented from the crash to put up much of a fight.
Still trying to recover from the explosion that had rocked the APC, Leonard and Nancy shielded their eyes and groaned at the light in the room. Hands grabbed at their arms and legs, wrapping rough rope around them and pinning them down to their cots. When the unseen figures finished restraining Leonard and Nancy, someone emerged, highlighted in the doorway.
Dressed in long leather duster, with a leather hat to match, the figure was rugged, unshaven and carried a rifle strapped to his back. He walked slowly toward Leonard and Nancy, not speaking a word at first, but causing Nancy’s heart to race as she recalled the savage pair of criminals who had nearly killed her the last time she was taken prisoner. His face was chiseled and his hair was greying, though his crystal blue eyes were alert, absorbing everything about the two individuals tied up in front of him. His expression was neutral, betraying nothing about whatever thoughts were going through his head. The figure knelt down in between Leonard and Nancy’s cots and examined their restraints, then spoke with a soft voice that contradicted his harsh appearance.
“I’m Samuel, and this is my town. Now just who might you two folks be?”
Rachel Walsh | Marcus Warden
12:38 AM, April 9, 2038
Arriving back at the laboratory in the dark, Rachel carefully pulled into the pit while Marcus kept a watchful eye for any signs of intruders. The rubble of the pit appeared undisturbed, though with recent events, Rachel wasn’t sure that meant anything anymore. After performing a several point turn to illuminate and check the full interior of the pit, Rachel shut off the APC’s engine. She and Marcus sat in the darkness with the window portholes open, listening carefully to the nighttime noises of the abandoned city.
At first the city had seemed deathly quiet at night, but they soon realized that a cacophony of new sounds that had replaced the old street noise. Instead of cars, airplanes and tourists roaming around, the city was instead filled with the creaks and groans of buildings that had been ripped halfway apart. Every so often, the weight of a teetering piece of building would become too much and it would collapse, causing a distant boom that would echo for miles in every direction.
Strong winds brought on by the new weather patterns were also a distraction, picking up out of nowhere and causing gusts that could last anywhere from a few seconds to several minutes. Ash and dust was picked up by the gusts and swirled around, causing optical illusions that kept Marcus and Rachel on edge.
Once they were relatively confident that they were alone, Marcus moved to the back of the APC, leaving Rachel in the driver’s seat. She joined him a few minutes later, sitting on a seat across from him as they carefully inspected their food and water rations. Sam kept one eye open on them as he laid down on the floor, watching as they passed the food packages back and forth.
“Looks like we’ve got another two days’ worth of food here, if we stretch it. We’re good for another three days on water, though.”
“Yeah, but we still don’t have anything to move this rubble with. Rachel, we’ve lost a day already and if we don’t find chains and more supplies soon, we’ll have to start searching outside the city.” Frustration was dancing at the edge of Marcus’s voice and he fought to keep himself calm as their situation seemed to spiral further out of control.
Rachel slumped back in her seat and put her feet up as she closed her eyes. Marcus leaned down to stroke Sam’s head and they sat in silence for a few moments, both of them trying to come up with ideas for what to do next. Marcus’s eyes began to droop and his head sank to his chest as exhaustion from the day started to catch up to him. Rachel’s eyes began to close as well, though she tried to fight sleep as she mulled their situation over in her head.
Just as Rachel’s eyes closed, the dark interior of the APC was suddenly illuminated by a faint blue glow. Rachel’s eyes snapped open and she scrambled to push herself up into a sitting position, reaching for her rifle as she went. “Marcus, wake up!” she hissed, kicking Marcus hard in the shin. His eyes blinked open and a confused expression was on his face until he too noticed the blue light filling the air.
“What the hell?” Marcus picked up his rifle and stepped over Sam, following Rachel into the front seats. Sam lay still on the floor of the back, his ears back against his head as he alternated between soft growling and whining noises. In the front of the APC, Marcus and Rachel searched the sky and the surrounding area in the pit to try and identify the source of the glow, to no avail. It was diffuse, with no visible source, yet it was brightening with each passing moment.
“Quick, start us up; let’s get out of here.” Marcus whispered at Rachel, not wanting to be heard by whatever was producing the light. Rachel tried the ignition several times, but the APC’s engine was completely dead. She tried turning on the interior and exterior lights, but like the engine, they too wouldn’t work.
“It must be the electrical system.” Rachel continued to prod the ignition switch to no avail.
“How? This thing’s shielded against electromagnetic interference!” Marcus pulled the handset off the radio and keyed the microphone a few times, then threw it on the floor after hearing nothing from the speaker. “Without lights or being able to move this thing, we’re sitting ducks. Cover me while I make a run for the far wall. If I can get up high, maybe I can see where the light’s coming from.”
Marcus double-checked his rifle’s safety switch and magazine, then took a deep breath before throwing open the door to the APC. Parked about fifty feet away from the blocked stairway down into the laboratory, he ran directly for it, intending to pass by and begin his ascent up the wall opposite to wher
e they were parked. Just as he passed the stairway, though, the radiant blue light abruptly vanished, plunging the entire pit into darkness. The sudden loss of sight caused Marcus to stumble, and he fell forward, landing on his side in the stairwell.
Before Marcus could get up, the blue light returned, but this time it was no longer diffuse. Still at the same level of brightness, a ball of blue hovered in the air, about eight feet up as it slipped through the main opening into the pit. Rachel watched the chain of events unfold from the front of the APC and then quietly opened the driver’s side door, slipping out and ducking behind it for cover. Taking aim at the blue ball, she fired three quick shots into its center. Each bullet passed harmlessly through the center of the blue ball, which simply shivered slightly as each round exited on its opposite side.
Shocked by the realization of what the ball was, Rachel yelled to Marcus. “It’s another swarm, Marcus! Get up, now!”
“Another swarm?” The voice that filled the air in the pit was cold and emotionless, with the slightest touch of incredulity on the edges. “This is hardly just ‘another’ swarm.”
Peeking over the edge of the stairwell, Marcus pulled himself up from where he had fallen, rubbing his side where he had impacted on the debris. The voice that echoed loudly through the pit was coming from the blue ball, which still sat in the air, gently pulsating and turning like a group of nanobots that had decided to group together into a cohesive unit instead of spreading out in their usual cloud-like mass. The voice lacked inflection and spoke coldly in a calculating manner, one that sent shivers down Rachel’s spine. The voice was familiar and lethal, striking out at her from the past.
Rachel leaned against the armored vehicle for support, feeling her stomach grow queasy and her knees go weak at the sound of the voice. No… not now, she thought, not when we’re so damn close!
Bering Strait
April 2, 2038
Inside the Arkhangelsk, the mood is dark. After two of the three survivors of the massacre make it back to the submarine safely, the second in command orders an immediate dive, taking the submarine to the bottom of the strait, where she remains for day after day. Every ten minutes, the crewmember on the radio sends out two transmissions, one encrypted and one unencrypted. The first message, coded to the latest Russian military frequencies, identifies the specific threats that the crew of the Arkhangelsk has faced and requests for immediate instructions and assistance.
The second transmission, implemented only after days of silence in response to the first, is open, sent in both Russian and English, requesting that anyone that receives the transmission respond back in some form or fashion. This type of transmission goes against every protocol that has ever been drilled into Pavel during his time at the Naval Academy, but the disturbing situation he finds himself in necessitates such an action, or so he justifies to himself. Despite the attempts, no responses have been received by the Arkhangelsk. In fact, no radio transmissions of any type have been detected, and satellite communications have ceased as well.
With a skeleton crew running the ship, Pavel keeps all of the men on a rigid schedule, running them through training exercises, evacuation procedures and target practice, ensuring the few remaining men on the ship are as well-equipped as possible. Though he isn’t sure what they’ll face next, Pavel takes no chances, going so far as to perform drills on emergency repairs to the nuclear reactors, despite the fact that they require virtually no human intervention to remain running. From time to time, the men on the ship swear they hear anomalous sounds, a strange buzzing in the ocean, though it is dismissed as nervousness or hiccups in the engines.
The recreation room, billiard table, sauna and swimming pool on the Arkhangelsk are deserted, as the crew chooses to huddle together on the command deck or in the engine room. Welcoming the familiar sounds of the spaces, some begin to take to sleeping there, only traveling to the empty sections of the ship when their orders demand it of them. With such little training having been bestowed upon them before leaving port, the men of the skeleton crew are skittish and superstitious. Nonetheless, they persevere together, working to keep the submarine operational in an attempt to contact the outside world.
Days pass by slowly as the Arkhangelsk holds her position, floating beneath the surface of the Bering Strait, all evidence of her previous surfacing having long since disappeared. Lost under the ice, the submarine waits, caught in a place between survival and the apocalypse.
Leonard McComb | Nancy Sims
2:40 AM, April 9, 2038
Surprised to find that she and Leonard were still alive, Nancy tried to lean up in the cot to get a better view of the man standing over them. When she tried to move her arms, Nancy found that they were bound to the cot, along with her legs. Growing panicked, she began to thrash, noticing that Leonard was similarly held down. His eyes were closed, and though he was still breathing, he didn’t show any signs of being conscious.
“Hold up there, little lady. Don’t go hurting yourself any more than you already are.” The man standing over Nancy leaned in close, putting a hand on her arm. Gloved in thick leather, the man’s grip was powerful and vise-like, and Nancy’s heart chilled with terror. Not again, she thought, remembering the hands of Richard and Joshua.
Nancy managed to overcome the lump in her throat and she choked out a response. “Just let us go!”
The man stood up and backed a few feet away, lowering his head a few inches. “I am truly sorry for this, but we had no choice. You came into our village, driving your governmental mechanized monstrosity. Until we can be sure of who you are, you have to stay here.”
“We never meant to trespass, Mr. Samuel.” Leonard’s voice was calm and humble from next to Nancy, who breathed a sigh of relief upon hearing it. “We helped a young man named Jacob who was being chased by—”
“The demons, yes. Jacob’s told me the short version of those events that led you here. We’ll be speaking to him at length later in the morning, and as long as you two did nothing to him, you’ll have nothing to fear from us.” Samuel walked to the door, speaking to Nancy and Leonard as he departed. “I suggest you both try to rest. Someone will be here in a few hours to give you food and bring you downstairs.”
The man exited the room, and the door was locked behind him. Several pairs of footsteps echoed down the hall as men descended from the upper floor where Nancy and Leonard were being held. With Samuel gone, Nancy felt her heart rate slow down and she whispered to Leonard, assuming that someone was likely guarding their door.
“I thought something was wrong with you, Leonard! Are you all right?”
“Yeah, just have a nasty bump on my head from the steering wheel. Did they do anything to you?”
Nancy took a mental stock of her condition. While she was sore from their crash, she couldn’t tell that their kidnappers had accosted them. This relieved her to some small degree, though she was still frightened, especially since she was bound. “Other than these ropes, I think I’m okay.” Nancy struggled against the restraints, trying to find a weakness in any of the four points, shaking the cot and bouncing it on the floor in the process.
Leonard’s voice came a moment later, still calm and collected. “Nancy. Stop struggling. Just relax. They’ve got us over a barrel right now and there’s nothing we can do about it for the moment. I know it’s hard, but close your eyes and try to sleep. We need our strength, but not this very second.”
Nancy took a deep breath and relaxed her arms and legs. Closing her eyes, she tried to do as Leonard said. While sleep didn’t come easy, it did eventually carry her away, borne by the exhaustion and pain of the day. In her current state, dreams came unbidden, of both the past, present and what she imagined to be the future. At one moment she was walking through her old job, then running from the creatures and then sitting beside a lake, watching white clouds drift through crystal blue skies. The idyllic scene was short-lived, though, as she was rudely awoken by the sound of a knife sawing through the thick bonds that
held her to the cot.
Blinking in the early morning sunlight, Nancy found herself free and able to sit up, with a man at the end of the bed, releasing her from the last restraint. Leonard was next to her still, receiving the same service from a second man, both of whom stood, nodded at Leonard and Nancy and then left. Distracted by the movements of the men and the sudden freedom she once again enjoyed, Nancy didn’t notice Samuel standing in the corner of the room for several seconds.
As he stepped forward, Nancy could see that Samuel was wearing the same outfit as last night. In the sunlight, his face appeared more sunken and old, though there was a certain softness about it that matched the voice she remembered. His attire was simple, though he had multiple weapons strapped prominently to his body. With a pistol on one leg, a knife on the other and a scoped assault rifle on his back, Samuel gave the distinct impression that – if he wanted to – he could easily hurt or kill you in almost no time at all.
Samuel reached toward Nancy with his gloved hand, offering to help her up. She stared at him coldly as she rose on her own, stepping toward Leonard and standing next to him. Samuel lowered his hand with a smile and spoke. “I am sorry to the both of you for what we had to do, but – as I explained last night – we don’t respond well to incursions on our village, especially during these troubling times.”
