by D. S Mac
Within seconds another creature was on top of him, screaming in his face, spittle flying everywhere. Drake turned his head sideways to avoid having his face bitten off by the largest mouth he had ever seen. It was about three times the normal human size and filled with black broken sharp teeth, all gnashing, trying to feed on him. The smell from its breath was putrid, and Drake had to try his hardest not to gag. The creature had him pinned with its cumbersome spliced body. Both arms, which sprouted from its back, were swinging around manically, trying to connect with him.
Drake realised that he had dropped his hammer when he was blindsided. He looked around, and it was about five feet to his right. Drake brought his knee up, and with all the strength he could muster, he pushed and launched the creature over his head. The second he let go, he scrambled for the hammer. As he spun around, the creature launched itself at him again. Drake swung the hammer and connected with the creature’s jaw. The force sent its head ploughing into the wall. There was an awful cracking sound, but the creature didn’t stop. With its grotesque mouth wide open, stinking foaming discharge dripping from the corners, it snapped at Drake again. Drake shoved the claw side into the hole he had smashed. With his left hand, he grabbed its throat and pushed as hard as he could. With his right hand on the hammer, he pulled and pulled until eventually the force of both the actions tore the creatures head in two, flinging a singular eyeball out and onto the filthy floor.
Drake struggled back to his feet and wiped himself down as best he could. Relieved that it was over, he went back into the room he had been about to search when attacked. Again it was much like the others, left in a state as if everyone left in a hurry. After checking out the living room, kitchen and front bedroom, he got to the last bedroom. The door opened with a squeak, and Drake’s eyes lit up. From the window, the same orange glow from outside could be seen. He ran over to it and leant on the windowsill to have a better look. The right-hand side was partially blocked off in the same way as everything else, but the left side lifted his spirits hugely. The collapsed concrete and bricks stopped below the window, leaving a path down. It looked extremely treacherous to even think about climbing down, but it was a way out the other side.
Drake was leaving the building as Fergus approached.
“Dead end there, mate. You have an—Jesus, what the fuck happened to you? You got a face like a skelped arse!”
Drake looked down at himself and realised he was covered in more blood than he had thought. “Another one of those fucking things jumped me.” He held a hand up as Fergus was about to speak. “You should see the other guy. I’ve found a way out.”
“Thank fuck for that. That building was a bloody tomb.”
Drake pulled out a bottle of water, splashed most of it over his face, and wiped it down with his shirt.
“Come on, Ferg, I’ll show you the way.” They both headed back to the window Drake had found.
They reached the third floor and had to step around the mangled creature.
“Damn, you messed him up.” Fergus laughed.
Drake grunted and pushed open the door to the flat. “This way.” He signalled for Fergus to follow him into the back room.
Fergus stepped in and noticed it was a bedroom. “Couldnae buy me dinner first?” He laughed.
“Sure, how does beans a la can sound?” They both sniggered.
Everything was immaculate and tidy, bed made and not an item of clothing out of place. Drake forced open the window, which proved to be rather difficult, which was expected, seeing as it probably hadn’t been open in a good few years.
“Stairway to heaven.” Drake laughed as he pointed it out to Fergus.
“Oh, flipping heck, Drake, couldn’t you have found an elevator?”
The climb down was actually a lot easier than they expected. Within a few minutes, they were both halfway down, climbing like professional rock climbers. Each step was carefully communicated, so they both knew good places to apply pressure. With about the height of another story to go, a booming rumble shook everything they were holding on to.
“What the hell was that?”
“I’m not sure, Ferg, but let’s pick the pace up.” Drake started to take more risks and didn’t fully test footholds as he went. BOOM! Another earth-shaking rumble, this time it knocked loose the breeze block Drake had his left foot on. He lost his balance and almost went tumbling to the bottom, but he managed to grab hold of an iron bar jutting out by his left.
“That was too close! Ferg, let’s g—” BOOM! The frequency of the earth-shaking rumbles increased, and the knock-on effect was getting stronger as if something was getting closer. Fergus had shot past Drake and made it to the bottom. He held out a hand for Drake, which he took and jumped down. BOOM! Their first and only instinct was to run and fast. Boom! They had managed to make it about two blocks down the road when BOOM! BOOM!
A gargantuan crash kicked up a congestion of dust and debris, which barrelled down the road like a tidal wave. Portions of rubble, iron bars and bricks were launched in every direction, pieces of it whizzing past Drake’s and Fergus’s heads. Drake risked a glance back and could not believe his eyes. The impossible, an absolute tyrant of a beast, was emerging from the storm of dust. It was like the other humanoid creatures, but this was about twelve feet tall and wide. It looked like two dozen conjoined twins had all merged into one despicable creature. Dozens of bloodshot eyes all glared at them from the many protruding heads. It had collections of arms and legs all twisted and deformed, and it was racing towards them with nothing but murder in its eyes. BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
They ran as fast as they possibly could. Their lives depended on that and that alone. They had no weapons to take down a creature like this, so their only option was to outrun it. The problem was that even though it was large and cumbersome, it was still matching them for pace. This was going to be taken down to the wire on who had more stamina. The problem was that after a few minutes of full energy sprinting, Fergus was tiring and fast. He had started to slow down, and Drake was quickly gathering distance.
The beast was still thundering towards them. BOOM! BOOM! Thick, rancid saliva pooled from its many mouths, dripping down its large malformed body. Nothing stood in its way. A double-decker bus was launched into a vicious roll as the beast collided with it. The same fate followed suit for any cars that happened to be in the beast’s trajectory. BOOM! BOOM! It showed no signs of tiring at all, it had its mission, and it was going to succeed.
Drake knew it would be almost damning to go back for Fergus, but that did not stop him. Back in his army days, he’d never left a man behind, and he wasn’t going to start now. He ran up beside him, slung an arm over his shoulder and put one round Fergus’s back and willed him on.
“Come on, Grandad, we gotta keep going. I got you!”
Fergus was panting for breath, the mother of all stitches seizing his side. He tried to speak but couldn’t get a single word out. Instead, he pushed a little bit harder so that Drake’s return wasn’t in vain.
The beast had made up a huge amount of distance. BOOM! BOOM! Each one of its mouths had turned up into an evil snarl, knowing it almost had its prey. It let out an unholy dissonance that was a mixture of screams and manic laughter. Its eyes widened in delight as it made the final push.
The screams from the beast sent shivers down Drake’s spine, and he found the courage to pick up the pace even more, dragging Fergus along with him.
“Leave me,” Fergus gasped.
“Like fuck I will!” A few dozen meters ahead, Drake could make out the figure of a person standing there on top of a partially destroyed classic black cab.
“What the…”
“DUCK NOW!”
Without even thinking, Drake threw himself and Fergus to the ground, and a tail of smoke from some propelled object whooshed over their heads. A blinding flash followed by a loud explosion rattled their skulls. They covered their heads in reaction as a hail of blood, guts, and limbs pissed down over everything. Lar
ge chunks of meat bounced off the concrete with sickening thuds. Blood and gore splattered everything in sight, soaking them in its warmth. The smell of rancid copper combined with the stench of burning flesh was unbearable. Drake gagged but managed to compose himself. Fergus was less fortunate and could not control his stomach from emptying itself.
“That was a close one, wasn’t it, lads.” The stranger had strolled over to them. He was laughing like he was having more fun than he’d ever had. Drake looked up at him. He was about Drake’s height, several years older and looked even older. Most of his face was covered in thick brown hair, as was his head. There was a darkness in his eyes, not an evil look but more like he had dealt with an overwhelming loss, which instantly put Drake on edge.
“Thanks for the save.” Drake went to stand up, and the stranger grabbed his arm to help. Fergus had stopped retching and was helped up by him too.
“Don’t mention it. Follow me. I’ve got a place you can clean up.”
“Wait, who the fuck are you?” Fergus said as he wiped his mouth with his sleeve, leaving a slither of leftover vomit and saliva.
“I’m a friend. That’s all that matters. Now come on.”
Drake and Fergus shared a look that said ‘What the hell?’ They both shrugged and followed the stranger.
“Thanks for coming back for me,” Fergus said, placing a hand on Drake’s shoulder.
“I wasn’t going to leave you, mate. I’ve had more hope with you than I have in years. I consider you a friend.”
“I appreciate that,” Fergus replied with a smile. “I do too.” They walked a few roads down. It took about fifteen minutes because there was a lot of weaving down alleyways and climbing over more destruction. They made it to a building yet again like all the rest, but surprisingly it was exactly where Fergus had been trying to take Drake to. Fergus burst into laughter.
“Typical, this is the old hideout. It was a pub back in the day, so it still had its street cellar entrance for deliveries.”
The stranger faced them and smirked. He leant down and pulled up the hatch. “After you.”
Chapter 9 - Guide
Fergus took the lead and climbed down the rickety old, rotten and damp-ridden stairs. They bowed and creaked under pressure. Drake followed soon after, as did the stranger. Drake wondered how on earth they had ended up at possibly the worst place in history, being saved from grotesque beasts by a stranger with a rocket launcher. Something was not right about him.
He didn’t take his eyes off him once, watching his every move as he flicked on some oil lamps that cast a small amount of light around the cellar. As little as the light was, it shone enough to reveal one hell of a haul. Lined up against the back wall was a small arsenal consisting of several assault rifles, RPGs, magazines, the whole works.
“Damn, you starting a war down here?” Drake was suspiciously eyeing the stranger.
“Nah, that’s personal. I have my shit to sort out.” The stranger sat down on an old office chair in the corner of the room. He pointed to the other side. “Water in the cupboard there. Help yourselves.” He was cold. Extremely blunt.
“Thanks.” Drake wearily sidestepped over to the cupboard. It was as beaten as everything else in this godforsaken place. The doors hung half off their hinges and creaked like nails on a chalkboard as he opened it. “Ferg, here, bud.”
Fergus looked over to Drake and managed to catch a bottle in time. “Cheers, Drake.” They both cracked open the bottles and downed the lot like they were fresh, cold beers on a warm sunny day.
They both sat down on the floor, it took a lot more effort than it should have, but after the day they’d had, it was not surprising. With a grunt, Drake half fell on his arse.
“So what is this place? Do you need help?”
The stranger looked over. The shadows from the lamps cast darkness around his face, making only his tired eyes visible. Drake felt a vague sense of familiarity.
“The end,” he mumbled, showing his slightly yellow teeth.
Fergus butted in. “Look, thanks for the save and all, but you gotta give us more than that.”
The stranger held both his hands up and raised his voice. “You can’t help me. We can’t even cross paths outside of this place.” He was shouting now. “You’ll find out when you get there… here.” The stranger took a deep breath. “Look, I can’t say too much, or it’ll fuck everything. But this is the end of the world.”
Drake and Fergus both gasped.
“Before you chime in, let me finish. In the year 2050, time itself collapses. Fractures in the continuum pop up everywhere like a nasty storm. They destroyed everything. Humankind stood no chance at getting away when buildings and the people themselves were being vacuumed into voids, dissected molecularly, and spat back out on repeat.”
“Shit! Those things out there and that big fucker.”
“All fractured and spliced people, they have been dissected and put back together countless times over. It fucked with the human genome exponentially.”
An eerie silence fell on the cellar. Several rats scuttled around somewhere in the shadows, their tiny pitter-patter loud enough to hear in the quiet. It was broken by sobbing from beside Drake. Fergus had broken down; tears streamed down his face. Drake laid a hand on his shoulder.
Fergus shrugged it off. “Fuck. This is my fault. We should never have finished our experiment.”
The stranger stood up abruptly, drawing their attention to him instantly. “You’re not to blame; Brendan Forrest is! He fucked the world when he ran that damned machine a second time!”
“What machine?” Drake was standing now, too, fists clenched.
“Shit! I shouldn’t have said anything! I can’t screw things up more.”
“It’s too fucking late for that. Look around you!” Drake was furiously shouting now. All he wanted was answers, not riddles. “It can’t get much worse than this!”
“Alright, alright! Forrest ran an antimatter test like the one from 2018. He attempted to reverse the polarity. It kick-started this.” The stranger threw an arm out around him.
“So we need to get to 2050 and stop him. How do we get out of here?” Drake scowled.
Fergus had stopped crying now and stood up as he wiped his eyes. “I think I know… we need a fracture storm.”
“He’s a smart one,” the stranger chided. “We’re due a storm in a few hours.”
Drake nudged Fergus as if to say well done and set his eyes back on the stranger. “You can lead us to it, yes?”
The man’s muffled laughter filled the cellar. “Grab yourselves a gun. We head out shortly.”
Drake’s eyes lit up when he saw the weapons stacked along the wall. British-issue SA80s, a rifle he was very familiar with. The simple feel of having a gun in his hand made Drake feel a lot more functional. Although they had survived without one since arriving at the end, the weight of a firearm in his hands felt damned good. He ejected the mag, checked the bullets, shoved the magazine back in, cocked the rifle, and studied the safety was on . He snatched up a few more mags and buried them in every pocket he had.
Drake watched as Fergus also grabbed a similar rifle and made his checks like a professional. “Where did you learn to be so handy with a rifle?”
Fergus checked his safety and slung the gun over his shoulder with the worn strap. “Had no choice after 2018, mate. It was either learn fast or get shot to pieces.”
“The former is more reasonable.” Drake laughed.
A loud clunking noise distracted them as the stranger carelessly slung an RPG over his shoulder, knocking over several stacked cans. Drake noticed the stranger made his checks in a strangely similar way to himself. “You army too?”
The stranger chuckled. “Something like that.” He winked at Drake and headed for the rotten steps. “Come on, we got a storm to catch.”
Outside was strangely cold. The close quarters they were squeezed into must have felt warmer from the increased body heat. The smell that hit their no
ses was reminiscent of turning a radiator on after months of gathering dust. Their noses twitched, adjusting to the increased tickle of particles. They mainly strode in silence, marching like soldiers after the stranger. The steady pounding of their boots in the quiet street echoed through the ransacked city like a ghostly parade. They made a good pace for an hour, with minimal conversation. All three of them relished the tiny morsel of peace that they knew wouldn’t last long.
They were approaching the edge of the Thames when guttural screaming engulfed the street. All three of the guys had weapons raised within a second. The stranger continued to lead the way. He glanced back to get Drake’s attention.
“Cover every direction. These pricks can be surprisingly sneaky.”
Drake nodded to let the stranger knew he understood. As they walked, Drake and the stranger were like sentries up front, roving left to right like they were synchronised swimming. Fergus, however, kept a check on the rear, jolting in sharp movements to each possible entryway. He didn’t quite seem to have the finesse of the other two, but he sure as hell wouldn’t let anything sneak up on them.
The shrills from the creatures continued one after the other like droves of them were communicating. It was worse than anything Drake and Fergus had heard so far. The awful pitch sent shivers cascading down their spines.
They had been walking for what felt like hours. However, it had only been an hour or so. Their progress was slowed by the fact that they had to check every single shadowy corner. Eventually, the demolished Houses of Parliament came into view.
