Intended Extinction

by Hanks, Greg

  A soft breeze kissed our wrecked bodies. The sun was starting to lower, spraying a milky orange glow over the horizon, creating a soothing reflection in the Hudson. The entire back section of Dynasell’s retaining wall was completely destroyed, giving us a first-class view of the beautiful scene and access to the large balcony that extended over the river. Rusty chairs and tables were strewn across the landing. It must have been where the big-wigs came to catch some rays before going back to work.

  I wasn’t worried about the others because I knew such a petty argument wouldn’t destroy the bond Genesis shared. We were simmering for so long over coals that were too hot. The capture of Justin and Vane, the battle at the train station, Tara’s narrow escape from the Manhattan Branch, and our near death experience in the Dustslum. It was only natural that we had reached a breaking point.

  Dynasell’s balcony had no railing, so we sat down and dangled our legs off the edge. The gentle lapping of the Hudson’s murky green water mixed with the occasional birdcall in the distance began to relax my soul. For a minute, I lost all connection to the real world.

  Tara’s eyes glazed. “It’s my birthday today.”

  My face turned incredulous. “What?”

  “I just remembered what day it is,” she smirked, “I’m twenty-six.”

  I took a moment to adjust to the random, yet golden piece of information; I never had asked her how old she was.

  “So I am older than you,” I confirmed, looking back across the river smugly.

  “Huh?”

  “I always thought you were older.”

  “Really? Why?” She was smiling now, curious as to where this was going.

  I shrugged. “Just seems like you’ve always been taking care of me.”

  I saw a broad smile creep over her mouth in my peripheral vision. “Yeah,” she said “I guess you’ve always needed that.”

  I shook my head with a grin. I was glad we could still joke around. It wasn’t long before light-heartedness turned cold. In fact, I wondered if this was going to be the last time Tara and I would share a moment like this.

  “Do you think they’re still alive?” I asked. I knew it was a harsh question, and it definitely brought down the tempo of our conversation, but it somehow slipped through.

  She paused for a minute, her smile flattening out. She put on her serious face. “I know they are.”

  My heart rose, quickened by our similar thinking.

  Another long stretch of silence ensued, awash with worrisome, yet optimistic views of our two lost friends.

  “Mark?” she resumed. “Do you think I failed us?”

  I whipped my skull toward her.

  “What are you talking about?” I asked.

  “The codes. It’s not what we thought. Maybe if I had—”

  “Stop it. Don’t go down that road.”

  “I was right there!” she vented. “I could have pumped Ames for more.”

  I grabbed her thigh. “It’s over, Tara. There’s nothing you, or any of us, could have done. We’re just gonna have to work through it.”

  Her eyes were misty as she looked across the bay. No one was going to blame her for this mess. If we started pointing fingers, we’d be letting GenoTec win.

  Finally, she let a small laugh escape. I turned my head in confusion.

  “Look at us, Mark. Look what we’ve turned into.”

  That was a thought I had fostered for a while.

  “Yeah,” I agreed, “I know. What scares me more is the fact that I’m starting to accept it.”

  “Do you really believe we can do this?”

  “We’ve come this far, haven’t we?”

  She gave me a long stare. “You’ve really changed, Wenton.”

  I looked at her. She reached to grasp my hand. Both of us were trying to find other things to say, but nothing came. It was a solemn, almost surreal place in time. With our final push against GenoTec hanging over our heads, and exhaustion fighting to claim our bodies, there was a mutual feeling of “let’s just shut up and enjoy this moment.”

  We listened to the ripples of the water below. Two renegades, feet dangling, arms stretched back, enjoying our last few moments of serenity before taking the plunge. I felt like I was lying in bed, knowing full well that the alarm would go off in a matter of minutes, yet savoring every precious second until it was time to get up. Maybe it was selfish, leaving Justin and Vane at the disposal of GenoTec for much longer. Whatever the case, this moment felt necessary.

  I tried to push anxious thoughts away. I looked into the horizon with a meditative stare. The sun hung in place, the water moved consistently. I held my gaze for as long as I could, mentally snapping a picture, and archiving it deep into the recesses of my memory.

  I inhaled, embracing the spiritual sensation surrounding us. “Happy Birthday, Tara.”

  47

  When we returned to the lobby, everyone seemed at ease. There were no words of apology, but there was indeed a sense of forgiveness. No one was oblivious to the fact that we were mentally, physically, and emotionally exhausted. We were all on low fuel, kept afloat by energy pills, MetaChews, and our own willpower. Looking amongst everyone, I couldn’t seem to find Bollis.

  Vexin came along, toting one of our enormous bags. He flung the bag onto one of the desks and unzipped it, preparing his arsenal for the upcoming assault. Celia was putting together a small earpiece for me, and Tara stocked up on ammunition.

  I started putting together my Oversuit, latching on the different pieces. Parts were scratched and tarnished while others seemed completely crushed. The last encounter wasn’t as forgiving as I had remembered. Fortunately, everything clamped on nicely and I felt ready again.

  I touched Tara’s shoulder, letting her know I was moving to the small staircase in the back where Bollis had gone to unwind. I knew a lot was on his mind, having to lead our group without the aid of Vane. He must have been second-guessing himself. A part of me was a little worried by his recent actions. He had been waning in his stature and usual guardian-like observance. I didn’t blame him, but it didn’t make things easier, either.

  I trudged up a few steps bathed in warm, evening sunlight. The glow splashed the dusty walls and floors through fifteen-foot corner windows placed higher as I rounded a small turn, and emerged into another story.

  Bollis stood at the end of the room in front of the full glass wall, silhouetted by the incoming light. He was looking toward GenoTec.

  “I think we’re ready to start moving,” I spoke, approaching with a little apprehension.

  His broad shoulders remained still.

  I took a few more steps and joined his side. The sun was hitting GenoTec’s mirrored façade and sending a glare our way.

  He turned his head to mine. “What do you think?” he asked.

  “There’s no turning back now.”

  He chuckled, filled with a sorrowful tolerance.

  “You’re not scared?” he asked.

  “How can I be? You took that away, remember? WellSimone took it away . . .”

  “Hm.”

  “I’ve forgotten what it feels like—to feel fear.”

  He smiled and said, “You’re worried about me, aren’t you?”

  I didn’t expect things to surface so quickly, but I had to remind myself of the situation.

  “Er—are you okay?” I asked.

  His chiseled jaw loosened and he tilted his head down. “Interestingly enough . . . after all this time, I think something inside of me is rejecting my fear extinction.”

  “What?”

  “It’s like someone put the car in reverse,” he tried explaining. “It started when I saw that creature back at the Vista. I think it was the simple fact that we hadn’t been brainwashed for that. And that is exactly what GenoTec is, from what I’m starting to understand.”

  “Unpredictable?” I asked.

  He nodded. “But I guess things never go as planned, huh? Especially with us.”

  I mul
led it over for a second. “Bollis. You’ve always been the advocate for letting fear take you. Why is this any different?”

  My little retort caught his attention. He narrowed his eyes and said, “Look at you, Wenton. Giving me counsel.” He chuckled again, and then sighed. “You’re right, though. Maybe the Underbed’s solitude has finally caught up with me.”

  “Are you here with us, Bollis?” My question might have been metaphorical, but I was as serious as I could be. I always needed some kind of closure.

  He returned the solemnity and said, “Don’t worry about me, Mark. I’m still here. I’m ready to fight. It’s just . . . I’m just realizing that there is a lot to live for.”

  I resisted the urge to disagree. An echo of my past was resurfacing, trying to convince me that beyond Tara and Genesis, there was nothing. Maybe it was true.

  Finally, Bollis turned to me and said, “The more time we spend dwelling on our sad stories, the more that boy suffers. I think we’ve been here long enough.”

  I nodded and let him back away from the glazed pane. He seemed to be back to normal. I was glad he could be honest with me. I looked at our destination one last time before catching up, feeling somewhat better about the upcoming mission.

  Bollis and I came striding into the lobby as if we had been in “time out.” His sub-machine gun was glued to his back, and he held pieces of his Oversuit under one arm.

  He looked at the others and sighed. “Listen—”

  “Hey,” interrupted Dodge. “Save it. We understand. We’re just ready to end this.” He stuffed a magazine into his lumbar pouch and smiled at Bollis. “You just owe us all a milkshake after it’s over. We took a vote.”

  Bollis smirked and nodded, grateful for our cooperation and readiness.

  “Let’s go take back what’s ours, then” he said.

  “Okay, wait, wait,” Celia cut in. “Does everyone know what’s going on?”

  “We’ve had an entire week to memorize this plan more than once, I think we’re good,” Vexin responded, wrapping the bulky bag around his shoulder.

  “I know,” she said. “It’s just been a long time coming. I’m a little nervous.”

  Dodge gave her an endearing look and said, “We know.”

  “Let’s pack up!” called Bollis, zipping up the second canvas tote, initiating the assault.

  I thought I was ready. I thought my preparation was enough to take on the most powerful influence on the planet. Through a month of intense physical and mental training, I thought I could handle the pressures of an assassin. But when I stepped foot inside the car once again, I felt my world shrink around me, my stomach tighten, and a wall of fear obstruct my view.

  I had just told Bollis that my fears had been erased. What the hell was it then? I did have significantly less indoctrination, but still, I wasn’t happy with how prickly I felt.

  I was back inside the Mazda, fitted snugly between Vexin and Tara. Bollis was taking us away from Dynasell, with Dodge fully suited in the passenger seat. Celia had relocated to the second floor of Dynasell, perched where Bollis and I had our conversation. It was awful leaving her alone, but there was no other way around it.

  As I adjusted my new earpiece, we turned onto Belt Parkway, speeding across the coastline toward the Verrazano Bridge.

  “Damn, I forgot how huge it was,” said Dodge softly.

  The Bridge spanned the Hudson with austerity and elegance. It was a constant reminder to the survivors to stay stalwart and stable throughout the tyranny of Edge. Over the years, the Bridge had undergone intense modificationsthe most noteworthy being two new levels. These additions were built to relieve the intense congestion that was becoming an incredible nuisance for commuters. Fantastic, bolstering columns, attractive banner holders, and a ton of new lanes were added to bring life to the dying behemoth. The reason I remembered the details so clearly was because I helped rebuild it.

  We continued to our destination, weaving in and out of obstructions and trying to avoid as much detection as possible. Luckily, this part of town was mostly deserted, giving us a great deal of discretion.

  “When was the last time everyone crossed?” asked Dodge.

  It was silent for a minute as we thought back to our previous lives. It was hard for me to remember even two days ago. Everything seemed to blur together. I came to the conclusion that the last time I had even been this far south was when I worked on the bridge. I decided to keep quiet about it, mainly because I was trying to suppress my encroaching anxiety.

  “I was going to New Jersey for the first time,” Tara said. “I wasn’t very old—maybe eighteen. We were supposed to be going to Constantinople, that new amusement park everyone was talking about. Turned out it was closed that day, so we had to go back. I haven’t been across since.”

  The car kept on course as the rest of us sat in thought.

  “I was supposed to meet you,” Bollis said to Dodge, “at our new building. What was that, four years ago?”

  “I was sick, remember?” added Dodge. “I mean, we were all sick, but it got really bad that day.”

  “And I came all the way across the river for you. Man, that was right after . . .”

  “Sara,” finished Dodge.

  “Who’s Sara?” asked Vexin.

  “Just another dead body,” Bollis replied.

  We hit the ramp at full speed, taking the higher road, minutes away from crossing the threshold.

  “What about you, dude?” Dodge asked Vexin.

  “This is my first time,” he said quietly.

  “Well,” announced Bollis, “let’s hope this won’t be your last.”

  With that, the Mazda rumbled across the bridge threshold.

  Verrazano looked just how I left it. Each side consisted of six lanes, separated by a thick concrete barrier. The edges of the Bridge were constructed into pedestrian walkways, mainly built for cyclists. The only differences between my last visit and now were the leftover cars, some used by scavengers to create makeshift homes, others simply rotting away. I could only imagine what the lower tiers looked like. Even with the recent remodel, the Bridge definitely carried a heavy Dustslum palette.

  A few wiry people scampered out of the way of our oncoming vehicle—degenerates who looked like fictional zombies running wild. I pitied them. Their state of living reminded me of a horrible, post-apocalyptic world torn by famine and skin-devouring plagues. Why wouldn’t they accept GenoTec’s aid? Knowing what I know now still wouldn’t have kept me from taking Vax or receiving the monthly rations. How they could survive Edge in the first place was beyond me.

  Was something else keeping them alive?

  I watched a frail woman huddling around a rotting animal carcass, peeling back the decrepit flesh and consuming a helping portion of gruel. In a blink, she was gone, replaced by another being a few feet down the road.

  I opened my mouth to comment on the strange denizens, but something else eclipsed my attention.

  In the final moments of dusk, a deep black vehicle could be seen parked in the middle of the road, no more than a hundred yards away. It was unfettered by age and gleamed like porcelain.

  So much for a relaxing trip.

  Bollis cursed and threw the wheel to the side, just as a string of curvy smoke flew toward us.

  The RPG missed by a few inches, and the car careened into the median. With a steel splitting crunch, the Mazda jammed to a stop, wrenching us forward.

  “Get out!” shouted Bollis. “Go!”

  I unclipped my belt and wondered why Vexin was taking so long, only to find that his door had been blocked by the median. I hit his arm, and we both exited out of Tara’s side, barely escaping the second RPG. I sprinted to the back of the car, following the rest of the group up and over the median. I slammed into the hood of an abandoned sedan and slid to the asphalt below.

  Genesis was circling our two bags of supplies, stuffing their pouches with ammunition, extra grenades, and other explosives. Vexin loaded his menacing Boo
msocket with three venom canisters, caustic shells that would spray an entire radius with deteriorating acid upon impact. He kept the RAV-77 inside its bag, put Dodge’s M580 in the other, and divvied the remaining RPG’s between the two totes. Once everyone was set, we left the bags with Dodge, and scattered.

  It was dead quiet. I looked down the length of our side of the bridge, seeing a few places of cover—cars, fallen banisters, broken pieces of asphalt. Bollis and Vexin went up the middle, stopping at various positions for a moment before moving again. Tara and I followed behind, keeping a close eye over the barrier. Lastly, Dodge held the rear, finding a high enough car to make his nest upon.

  As the adrenaline pumped through my fingertips, I pulled back my rifle’s bolt, chambering the bullets that would kill the next soldier I saw. Tara was on my left, across the six-lane span, crouching behind a pile of fallen scaffolding. I felt the median on my back as I made my way closer to the other two.

  Gunfire erupted ahead. I slid into cover behind a parked Jeep and peered around the bumper. Bollis and Vexin were pinned down, taking heavy fire from a source that was out of my range.

  “Tara,” I said. “Over the barrier. Let’s go.”

  Hearing through her helmet, Tara looked toward me, and without hesitation, started crossing.

  We scanned the other side before hopping the concrete median. Gravel crunched underneath us as we sped to the pedestrian walkway, six more lanes away. We leapt over the next barrier and started to make our way up the bridge.

  Behind us, the Ramrod unleashed its first torpedo, echoing across the bridge. I sort of wished I was Dodge: best seat in the house, far away from the heat of battle, equipped with a heat sensing scope. Even more, I envied the rest of the group for still having their helmets.

  Tara and I joined the fray as we emerged from our hiding spots. We reaped the unaware with a robotic demeanor. Bollis threw grenades with every barrage, and Vexin doused an entire hovel with a steel-melting acid explosion that sent two soldiers running and screaming. The acid pervaded their armor, seeped into their bones, and burned away their faces like fire against parchment.