by L. J. Suarez
The straps of Claire’s backpack weighed down on her shoulders until they ached. Tim hadn’t said a word since they’d gotten back on the road that morning; he held Claire’s hand while they walked, looking tired and hungry. But he never complained. She was proud of her boy for enduring the hardships they’d been through over the years. He’d still been in her womb when all of this started, which made this the only world Tim had ever known. It pained Claire that he’d never gotten the chance to see the world before all this—to see that life wasn’t a constant struggle, a fight for survival.
But she remained hopeful that everything would be all right once they reached their final destination.
Claire still couldn’t believe it had been ten years since the Spirit Flu had spread across the globe, since the world she’d known had come to an end. Between the virus and the escalating violence over scarce resources, most of the human population had declined considerably.
She remembered clearly the day she first heard about the outbreak, and the mass hysteria that ensued. The news had described it as a new superbug with a one hundred percent mortality rate. The virus had the properties of swine flu, and experts from the CDC said it was a mutated version of the swine flu virus with characteristics of ebola.
After exposure, people experienced the first symptoms within twenty-four hours: body aches, sore throat, hemorrhagic fever. Two days later came the severe headaches, the muscle pain, the vomiting and diarrhea. By day three, they’d be bleeding internally and through the eyes—signs of complete internal organ failure. Claire hadn’t paid too much attention to all the hype, believing it would blow over like other doomsday scenarios the media tended to embellish and overhype. That was before her coworkers started missing work, and parents began pulling their children from school.
The CDC and other medical facilities around the world produced countless antibodies to combat the contagion, but the virus proved to be impervious to all known treatments. It even affected animals; Claire had encountered many rotten animal carcasses on the road throughout her travels.
No one really knew for sure how the pandemic had started or where it originated. There were rumors in the early days that the Spirit Flu was created by terrorists or some kind of cult in order to cleanse the Earth of the “unworthy.” Those days brought so much misinformation she didn’t know what was true.
Once airborne, the virus spread like wildfire. Claire wasn’t sure how many souls had perished from the pandemic, but she was sure they numbered in the billions. And after, the wars between the remaining superpowers added to the chaos. While the U.S. and other nations hadn’t exchanged any nukes, the government did bomb several quarantined cities during the early days to keep the infection from spreading. Little good that did.
Not much remained of humanity in today’s bleak new world. And for some reason, Claire and her son had been spared from the infection. She had no idea what made them so special—everyone she knew was dead. Both her parents had died during the initial outbreak, and the rest of her family and friends became infected and died soon after. Her ex had left years before the pandemic, and she hadn’t heard from him since. It was just her and Tim—and by now, these were just the facts of life.
Over the years following the outbreak, they had met other immunes like them, but some had resorted to violence in their quest for survival. Sometimes she’d had to sneak from those maniacal camps in the middle of the night, and had a few close calls. She had the scars to prove it.
Now they stayed mostly to themselves, away from other potential survivors. Food was getting harder to come by.
Then she’d heard about the settlement in Great Falls. A few days ago, near Colorado, she’d picked up a pre-recorded message on a radio loop—the only transmission she’d heard in years. A male voice encouraged anyone who was immune to the Spirit Flu to come to a military settlement in Great Falls, a special sanctuary for survivors. He claimed to have food and medical supplies for anyone who showed up at the gates.
She didn’t know whether to trust him, but it was too dangerous to continue alone. And she was beyond exhausted; she couldn’t even remember the last time she’d bathed. Great Falls was a gamble—she didn’t know what they’d find, or how long the message had been broadcasting. Maybe the settlement was abandoned, or the survivors dead. They could be cannibals looking to make a meal out of them, and that scared Claire most of all as she’d had a few run-ins with such survivors.
But if there was a chance at salvation, she had to take the risk.
She came to a stop, pointing to a fenced-off section of the downtown area with a makeshift guard tower at the end of the road. “Timmy,” she whispered, “that’s got to be it.”
Tim looked up at his mother, emotionless.
She tugged on her son’s hand. “Come on.”
They were a few feet away from the metal gate when a man’s voice shouted from above. “Stop right there!”
Claire froze, not daring to look up. She slowly raised her hands in the air. “Don’t shoot,” she pleaded. Even though she couldn’t see the man in the tower, she knew a weapon was trained on her. “Please, my son and I are just looking for refuge. We’re not infected.”
After a long pause, the gates opened. With her hands still up, Claire motioned Tim through the gates. She gave him a reassuring look—everything would be all right—though she had no real idea if they would survive this encounter.
Inside, she was met by two men in black tactical gear, automatic rifles at their sides. The one with a menacingly shaved scalp nodded for her to keep moving forward. As the gates closed behind her, she was taken aback by what lay ahead: over a hundred people moved about the main street in the closed-off section of downtown Great Falls.
Claire and Tim had made it.
The man with the shaved head shined a flashlight in Claire’s eyes, then Tim’s. She squinted from the flash. “We picked up your transmission on my radio.”
The soldier with the flashlight stared at her without acknowledgement. He took a few steps away, spoke into a small radio on his shoulder. The other soldier stood a few feet off, a stern eye trained on them. Claire couldn’t hear what the soldier with the radio was saying. After a few minutes, the soldier returned. “Follow me. I’ll take you to see the Colonel.”
Claire and Tim followed behind as they made their way along the crowded street. Many of the residents watched, while others went about their day. They passed convenience stores and gas stations on one side of the main street and a church on the other before entering a multi-level brick building that appeared to be a bank. A few military Humvees sat parked on the sidewalk.
Inside, men and women dressed in both military and civilian garments bustled about. Claire suspected this was their base of operations. They made their way up to the top floor, and the soldier led them into an office with a wooden desk at the center. A man in uniform was seated behind it, and another in a white lab coat stood beside him, going over documents.
After a long moment the man behind the desk glanced up from his papers; Claire spotted dog tags around his neck. She estimated he was in his forties, streaks of white in his sideburns and goatee. He wore a tag on one side of his jacket with the name Ward, while the other side had the U.S. Army logo. On the desk next to him a lit cigar rested over an ashtray. The man in the lab coat was probably around his sixties, his hair long and gray. He also looked vaguely familiar.
The soldier who’d escorted Claire and Tim spoke up. “These are the two that just came in through the gate, Colonel.”
The man in uniform removed his reading glasses. He nodded to the man in the lab coat, who instantly made his way out of the office. Claire got a better look at the mysterious man as he left: he didn’t look to be military, and his eyes were haunting, completely unreadable.
The man behind the desk smiled with yellow-stained teeth. “Well, I must say this is quite a surprise.” He got up, walked over to Claire with an extended hand. He wore a sidearm holstered at his belt. “
Welcome to Great Falls. My name’s Colonel Daniel Ward. I’m the leader of this settlement. Who might you be?”
“I’m Claire.” She turned to Tim. “This is my son, Tim.”
Ward knelt to Tim’s height, gave him an awkward grin. “Well hiya, Tim. It’s nice to meet you, Soldier.” He held his hand out to shake.
Tim didn’t move; he shot Ward a suspicious look.
“He—doesn’t talk much,” Claire said.
“Oh, it’s all right,” Ward said with a hint of a southern drawl. He straightened, turned back to Claire. “I’m sure he’s just shy. We haven’t had any survivors come knocking at our door in quite some time. I’m pleased to see there are others still alive out there.”
“Not as many as you might think,” Claire said. “We’ve been on the road for a long time, trying to find a safe place to settle since the outbreak. We were lucky to have heard your message. That was your voice on the radio?”
“It sure was,” Ward said. “I’m glad you did find us.” He observed the scar on Claire’s face. “Ran into trouble during your travels?”
She hesitated. “Nothing I couldn’t handle.”
“Good. We can always use strong people in our little community.”
Claire looked at the people dressed in civilian clothing alongside the soldiers in tactical gear. “Are all of you from the army?”
Ward paused for a moment before speaking. “Not for a long time. My soldiers and I have been stationed here since the beginning of the outbreak. This place has come a long way: it went from being a Spirit Flu survivors’ camp to the community you see here today. Many families reside here.”
Ward looked toward Tim, who continued to fix him with a curious stare. He smiled at him—even creepier this time. “There are other children for your boy here to play with. We’ve made this place our own. People here have been given a second chance to live a normal life after the catastrophe that swept our nation. We’ve had hundreds of survivors like you show up throughout the years, all seeking salvation at our doorstep. We’ve also had to deal with nomadic groups attacking our community, so we’ve suffered some casualties.”
Ward paused, as if recalling those memories. “We lost some good people during those attacks. The number of survivors showing up at our gates began to dwindle a few years ago. I started to wonder if there was anyone else alive outside our fences. Then today, you showed up. That proves you were meant to find us, that this is where you belong. I don’t know about you, but I don’t believe in coincidences. For a lack of a better word, it was fate. Anyway, you all look like you could use a hot shower and a warm meal.”
Ward turned to the soldier who had escorted Claire and Tim. “Take these good people to the medical facility for a full checkup and treat ‘em for any injuries they may have. Then set them up in their new living space and make sure they get a decent meal.” He turned back to Claire and smiled once more. “Everything’s going to be all right. You’re safe with us now.”
Claire nodded politely. “Thank you.” She took Tim by the hand and followed the soldier out of Ward’s office. Claire looked back as she walked out of the room and spotted Ward watching them leave with the same eerie grin. She breathed a small sigh; finally, after all these years, they had found a haven. At the same time, she couldn’t shake the feeling at the pit of her stomach—a nagging sensation that they weren’t safe at all.
Chapter Four
CADON
YEAR 12039
Using her Optic Implants, Ionne was determining the radiometric dating of the fossil resting on the countertop.
Several holo screens projected from her Implants, various readouts floating over the fossil, dispensing data on the specimen. She carefully studied each screen before moving on to the next one. The skeleton of an unidentified animal was flattened against a large chunk of rock. Most of the organism’s skeletal structure had decayed eons ago, but from what little remained, Ionne was able to gather enough data on the organism’s history.
The creature was part of the endothermic vertebrate group. Judging from its slender, lightweight structure, and that it once had wings, this creature had adapted for flight, most likely residing in the warmer regions of the now-ancient Earth.
The remains had been brought in by the museum’s field team, and the Museum of Ancient Earth History was where Ionne conducted all her research. Her last field assignment had occurred several months ago, the day she lost Derix during the earthquake in the Western Plains. Nowadays, she blocked out that painful moment by focusing on her work. In a strange way she felt closer to her father at the museum—a place where she spent many long hours.
Ionne was the only one inside the research lab that morning. She heard the swooshing sound of the sliding doors behind her, followed by footsteps. At first, she assumed it was one of the staff members. A soft, distinguished male voice called out, “Impressive. I would surmise that fossil was once a winged predator.”
Ionne froze; that voice sounded familiar. She closed the floating screens with a mental command, turning in her chair to face a tall man in the middle of the room. There was an assertive yet gentle aura to him, and he looked close in years to her late father. Despite his older age, he had youthful facial features: his silk-black hair bore only a few streaks of white down the sides, which complemented his brown-colored skin well.
It finally dawned on Ionne who the man standing before her was. “Dr. Kieran?!”
Kieran nodded with a broad smile. “Hello, Ionne. Forgive me—Doctor Ionne,” he said with a playful grin.
Ionne rose nervously to her feet. They grabbed each other’s hands, a show of warmth. “It has been so long. It is good to see you, Dr. Kieran.”
“No need for formalities. Just call me Kieran.”
“In that case, you may call me Ionne.”
Kieran was not only the lead geneticist and head of the Science Institute in the capital city of Empyreum, but also a member of the Inner Council, the governing body of Monad society. To say he was one of the most prominent figures of their time would be an understatement. Even at the age of 180, Kieran didn’t slow down—he still maintained an active role in scientific and government affairs. He and Ionne’s father had worked together for years at this very museum, and were once good friends. Once Kieran was selected as head of the Institute and given a seat on the Council, he had lost touch with Derix and the rest of the family.
“My, have you grown,” Kieran said in genuine amazement. “The last time I saw you, you were a small, shy youngling, barely reaching your father’s waist. I remember Derix used to bring you to the museum when he and I worked here together.” He looked around the room. “Many fond memories here. His life’s work had begun in this laboratory.”
Ionne nodded with a smirk. “My fondest memories are of running amok in the museum, and driving the staff mad.”
Kieran chuckled. “You indeed tested their resolve.”
“Including my father’s, I’m sure,” Ionne added. Her face became somber.
Kieran noticed this. “He was a great man, your father. I shall truly miss him.” His expression turned serious. “I wanted to offer my sincere condolences for your loss. I deeply regret not attending the funeral service. My duties at the Institute and with the Council prohibited me from doing so.”
“No apology needed. You did not have to come all the way here from Empyreum. A call on the Optic Implants would have sufficed.”
Kieran waved his hand. “Nonsense. It is no trouble, and a call on the Implants would not do. I wanted to come see you in person as it has been long overdue. How is your mother?”
“She is well. All things considered.”
“That is good.” Kieran said. He surveyed the lab once more and turned back to her. “Tell me, do you enjoy working here?”
“It is fulfilling enough,” Ionne lied.
“I find that difficult to believe, given your talent.” He paced the room, hands clasped behind his back. “I have been looking into your work with grea
t interest. You have quite the promising career as a scientist. You should be out in the field where the real science is discovered—not locked within the confines of a laboratory. I could use someone such as you on my team.”
“Me?” Ionne blushed.
“Yes, I am working on a special…biological experiment called Project Extant. And I would like for you to join me.”
Ionne’s stomach flipped, and she then looked down, staring at the floor in shame. She shook her head and looked back up at Kieran. “You honor me with your consideration. It is an intriguing offer. However, I must respectfully decline. There is much work here that needs my uninterrupted attention.” She paused. “I am also still in grief over the passing of my father.”
Kieran’s warm smile returned, and he slowly nodded. “I understand—and sympathize. Nevertheless, I would like you to reconsider my offer. Before you make a final decision, come visit the Science Institute in Empyreum as my guest. When you feel you are ready, I would like to show you what Project Extant is.” He gave her an almost mischievous grin. “After that, you might just reconsider my offer.” He moved a few steps closer to Ionne and stared at her with pleading eyes. “Promise me that you will at the very least come to Empyreum to pay this old man a visit?”
“Yes, of course.” Ionne forced a smile.
“Good. Well then, I will leave you now. Give my regards to your mother.”
“I will.”
Kieran then said, “The Archivist is with us.”
“She is with us always,” Ionne said, finishing the time-honored traditional phrase.
