Mega Cataclysm: The Last Survivors Chronicles

by Scott Todd

  It was moving out on a tree limb, and moving near directly above her. It was wasting no time, and before I could say a word, I had my gun barrel following a leaping lion through the air. I fired, pulling the barrel down hard, and releasing a barrage of lethal bullets.

  Jan collapsed to the ground, and my worst fears had been realized. I thought I had shot her, because the gun was awfully hard to control in auto mode. The lion landed with a thud right next to her, missing her by mere inches.

  My heart sank to the extreme bottom of my stomach, and I was overcome by fear and sorrow, sending me into a exasperated panic. But before I could even muster the strength to move, I noticed rustling in the forest floor. Something was stalking around us.

  All of a sudden another lion appeared from behind a tree, and then stopped in its tracks, mere feet from the two heaps on the ground- about thirty feet in front of me. It was assessing the situation, sniffing ahead, and for a second seemed slightly confused.

  And that was the second I needed. I glanced down at my rifle, and flicked the switch into burst mode. But that click immediately caused the beast to raise its head and look at me with a snarl, as it realized it was not alone.

  "Sorry pal, you lose," I thought. Before it could take more than two steps towards me, I downed that carnivore with three bullets landing square in its face. It was just enough out of Jan's way that I felt comfortable taking the shot. It let out a vicious snarl, and tried to run, but it was too late. It landed with another thud a few yards away.

  Grabbing my pistol, I quickly made sure those beasts were dead with two quick shots to the head. And right about the time I shot the second one, Jan got up and screamed "Lookout!" in a loud shriek. As I turned, my joy that she was alive was squelched by panic again in an instant- but I saw it out of the corner of my eye. Up high, and it leaped at me just about the time I realized where it was.

  It hit me like a freight train, knocking me off my feet, and its claws stuck into my shoulders. But before it could bite my neck or rip me, my pistol was in its chest emptied of lead. I just kept firing.

  "Stop firing.... You killed it already," Jan screamed just as loud as the gun. She helped push the monster off of me, and I was covered in blood. I got up in a daze, and she hugged me desperately.

  My senses began to recover, as I realized what all just happened. "So... So... You're not... You're not?" I mumbled, checking my shoulder and feeling pain.

  "... Not... What?" she said.

  "Shot?" I finished saying. "I thought I..."

  "No! Oh God. I'm so sorry. I think I fainted. Those things scare me so much..." she lamented. "I just... Lost it when I saw that thing about to jump on me. The mean look in its eyes... I saw it... Those huge teeth... It was pure evil... It paralyzed me..."

  "It's ok, it's ok..." I reassured her. "But we better get the hell out of here before more come. A lot of blood to smell around here," I urged, gaining a bit more control over my adrenaline. My wound stung, but it was minor. Since it wasn't bleeding too badly, I decided to just live with it until we could get further away.

  In the next twenty minutes we were safely down the hill, and eyeing in the distance ahead and below us what appeared to be the last of the tree line. We stopped briefly to take a closer look, but we quickly forgot about that when we heard behind us a sea of loud roars and snarls, erupting into a frenzy. We both knew what that was, and we wanted no part of it. We quickly got back to the boat, and kept tying it off to trees and lowering it down the steep hill.

  "I wonder how long it will be before that food wears off and they start following the scent trail of blood I am leaving behind," I said, worried.

  "I don't know, but let's just keep going," Jan responded. "Just keep checking our... Six? Is that right?" she said, a trite spitefully. She paused and looked at me, with that Jan look and a smirk.

  I nodded back, with a "very funny" look on my face. Nonetheless, I did turn around and check our six after the reminder. It was easy to get distracted with the task at hand, just trying not to slip. And the ground was getting noticeably wetter. Ocean had been there, not long before.

  And suddenly, we were there. The trees abruptly stopped. Looking down below us we were awed by the sight of a vast cliff, dropping severely and steeply down for several hundred feet. It was as if a whole chunk of the mountain had been removed, leaving bare-faced rock exposed- and nothing else. But fortunately, we were near the right side of it.

  "That must be where one of those waves hit," I said, pointing. The cavernous emptiness continued as far as we could see around to the left, or southwestward. But to the right the ground was less damaged, and further to the right in the distance we saw where we would have to go. Because down the cliff was clearly not an option.

  Jan however, was transfixed on something else. "Look!" she gasped, pointing. "Way down there!"

  Far down below us, and far in the distance, I could barely make it out. But it was the unmistakable reflection of the sun off of... Water! We could now see where it was we were headed, unobstructed by trees or anything. Severely unobstructed. As in, absolutely nothing between us and it. Just barren rock.

  "Holy crap!" I exclaimed. "That's incredible. The ocean wiped out everything. I mean everything. What it didn't get on the way in, it took on the way back out."

  Jan just stood there, shaking her head in disbelief, and then looked at me with hopelessness in her eyes. "Why even bother?" she said quietly with her head down. I saw her finger inch towards the trigger on her rifle.

  "Because we don't know what happened in the rest of the world, or who else survived," I replied sternly. "Don't... Please... Come on... There still might be a life for us out there somewhere. We can't give up. At the very least there's probably still people out there who could use our help."

  But a sudden whiff of the rotten egg smell, carried on the slight breeze, jerked us both right back out of our misery and into panic. Panic was better than misery, for the moment. It spurred us on, igniting survival instincts. We raced back to the boat and got right back to it.

  "Let's head to the right a bit... Down that way," I suggested. Jan seemed to be in auto pilot, and obliged. I made a mental note of how keeping busy seemed to help quell despair- for whatever that was worth.

  Once we had made it about 500 yards past the tree line down the hill, we had to stop, rest and eat. It was almost 2:00 pm by then, and we were out in the open, on still somewhat slippery rock. With little or nothing left to tie off to, the going was about to get even tougher- if we were going to get that boat down there. The hill had begun to get less steep- but it was still deadly and bare. One wrong move is all it would take. Then I knew why Gary had wanted to get us the stakes and hammer.

  "It sure would be nice if..." I started to say, but was cut off by some beeps. I grabbed the computer and popped the lid.

  "Everyone ok?" a voice questioned. But it wasn't Gary.

  "Ben!" I exclaimed, overjoyed to finally hear his voice again. Jan smiled, for the first time in... I don't know how long.

  "Yes Brian, it's me! A little... Well... Battered... But it's me. We're all doing... Well... Ahh..." His tone quieted down from excitement to lament, all in the same sentence. "Terry got hurt. That wave really about killed us."

  "Ben, so glad to hear you," Jan said, unsure of exactly how to sound. "Is she going to be ok?"

  "I think so, but she's going to need some time to recover," Ben said quietly. "Anyways, I've been monitoring your changing location, and we were wondering why you chose to leave anyway. I thought we..."

  "The sulfur cloud. It's almost here," I said, interrupting him. "We've been smelling it and actually saw it on the horizon to the east while we were still on top of the mountain. We had no choice. We had to go."

  Ben gasped. "No. I must of... Oh God. The weather patterns... I..."

  "Look Ben, forget it," I interjected. "I'm glad you warned us of it at all. But we seriously HAVE to move now. It's coming up behind us. Our only hope is to get that boat down
there and..."

  "Wait!" Ben said. "I found some masks... I went looking just in case... Ok, later today, look for the UAV... We'll try make a drop. But Gary... He's the only one who can fly it, and he's... Totally tied up trying to fix some damage we took. But there's only room for the masks in it, nothing else- and we'll only have time for one drop- IF he makes it back onboard before dark. Do you think you can make it tonight without lights?"

  "Well we're going to have to I guess," I said. "But without those masks we are surely..."

  Then the display suddenly went dark, and we heard nothing else.

  "Damn it, the batteries are out," I said, realizing the short time it had been in the sun. I shut it back up and put it back on the backpack.

  The sunshine was diminishing, and the sky was starting to get a dark yellow tint. It was nearly on us, and the smell became more pungent. Jan coughed, and I felt the urge, but held it back.

  "Later today?" she said. "Like how much later?"

  "I have no idea," I replied. "I really don't. But in the meantime, let's make something to cover our nose and mouth."

  Grabbing my knife, I took it to a blanket, and had two western style bandanas cut in no time. They seemed to help, but I could tell they would only last a while.

  "Come on, let's go. Hang in there. We're going to make it," I reassured her. She just looked at me, trying to believe me.

  Chapter 49: Rotten Hope

  We thought we were going to have more sunlight. And on a normal day, we would have. But this was no normal day. With the cloud bearing down on us little by little, we watched as it progressively got darker. The smell became unbearable.

  It became nearly impossible to continue, but somehow we managed to go another half mile. And that was it. What should have been dusk quickly turned to near darkness, and it was too dangerous to continue at 4:30 pm. We stopped and made a stand. What was to be possibly our final stand, or so it seemed.

  We were still in range of the lions, and had left a strong scent of blood all the way down. Our only hope was that the sulfur killed them, before they- or the sulfur- could kill us. And I had no idea if Gary knew. After all, they were probably still in the clear, more than a mile away still, and probably still in sunlight. He might not have any idea.

  My last desperate hope was that Ben would think it through, as he always seemed to do, realize the urgency of our situation, and somehow contact Gary.

  Our flashlights in hand, we desperately shined them back up the hill intermittently, checking for beasts - with gun barrels pointed in that direction. I made another set of bandanas, and we changed them out.

  Suddenly Jan said, "Wait... You hear that?"

  And slowly the buzzing, as before, got louder and closer. But because we were outside this time, it seemed to take forever before finally, we heard a plunk on the ground about twenty feet beside us. Ben had obviously come through. I just wished I could thank him.

  Packed up tight I found the two masks, and strangely, two pieces of freshly cooked steak. I rushed back to Jan with the goods. Trying to eat steak and drink, between putting the masks on to breathe, proved to be a real challenge. But a welcome one.

  And then shining her light down on the steak wrapping, Jan spotted a note:

  "I love you guys. Can't wait to see you. Terry."

  Jan cried. And so did I. Even in her battered state, Terry had managed to make sure we had some food. Not just any food. That steak was to die for it was so good. Even with a stiff shot of sulfur.

  Jan managed to redress my arm wound, tend to my shoulder wound, and dig out the pain pills- while I sat transfixed with my flashlight pointed up the hill behind us- rifle at the ready. I put a fresh clip in it and put it back in auto mode. I'd be damned if I was going to be lion food after we had come this far.

  We had only a mile or two to go before we reached the new waterline- and hopefully- reached them. I could only hope that the sulfur cloud would be diluted enough in the morning after travelling all that way to allow enough sunlight through for us to see- and make our way. But first, we had to make it until morning. And no telling what might come down that hill- not only to escape the sulfur- but following the blood scent as well.

  I figured the chances were pretty high, and we didn't have to wait long to find out. The animals were not stupid. Especially not those animals. Nope. I just didn't expect them ALL to be not stupid at once.

  The first sign of trouble came with a small deer herd, barreling down the mountain, right at us. But they passed us, all around us, like we weren't even there, and kept right on going.

  But what happened next was a total surprise. A pack of lions came limbering along not far behind- in a hurry- but obviously not interested in food or in us. Their posture and temperament was of disinterest, and they barely even looked at us as they went by, steering clear of our position.

  Then several bears followed, with the same sort of demeanor, and never even looked at us. They were just as gone down the mountain in the dark.

  Behind them, we saw all kinds of creatures- including rabbits, mice, rats, skunks, raccoons, squirrels- all in a mass exodus from that mountain- and all taking the same path. It was like there was some kind of unspoken truce going on: Get away from the sulfur. And southwest offered the only hope. They must have been the few lucky ones who headed in our direction. The rest, I presumed, were probably already dead on the hill.

  From that point on we dared not remove our masks- the bulk of the cloud had to have arrived up there- and was headed our way. But the masks were doing a hell of a job- we could hardly even smell it, and were breathing normally. I just had no idea how long the filters would last- especially in that persistent cloud of dense sulfur.

  Even through the mask, I could see Jan was just as bewildered as I was. She raised her hands up in the air as if to say "What the?" but I quickly cautioned her to maintain vigilance down the hill, while I watched upwards.

  After a while though, it was clear that we had seen all there was to see. No more creatures of any kind came. And we knew. That was it. The rest were surely dead, or perhaps a few more had made it down the hill further north from our position.

  And regardless, the cloud was going to get them eventually anyway. There was no escaping it. They couldn't run forever, even if they stayed on a mountain ridge with a clear shot west. For them, this most assuredly was the end. And if we didn't get more filters, we would meet the same fate. I just didn't know when.

  Content that we were no longer animal food, Jan finally laid out the sleeping bag and tried to get comfortable. But a sleeping bag on rocks doesn't work too well. No, it sucked. There was no comfortable position. A boat, on the other hand... I pointed. Ahh, much better. Still not great, but much better than hard rock. She fell asleep in my arms under the blankets. I drifted into sleep finally after her, hoping for viable circumstances in the morning.

  The problem was, there really was no morning. We finally awoke to a very dim lit day, barely able to see anything. But worse was the cold. GOD it was cold. It was a bone chilling, hopeless cold. And I knew it was going to stay that way- and possibly get worse- for years to come.

  And that sky. What a sight. The darkest, thickest yellow you could imagine. It was menacing, and deadly.

  No sooner than we started to resume moving the boat, we heard the buzzing sound again. Plunk. A new delivery.

  We opened it to find two more sets of filters, and a note:

  "Lost your position- your computer is down- no sunlight. Found you via infrared and from previous position. Follow UAV. I'll move it slow and wait. Get under it, and it will move again. Let's get you as far as we can, because once the UAV has to come back, it will be hard to find you again. Don't eat if at all possible to avoid poisoning from sulfur. Repairs went well, but still need another two days. Get to shoreline and wait for another drop from UAV.

  Good Luck,

  Gary."

  Passing the note to Jan, new thoughts all of a sudden started entering my brain. I was
processing them, and needed more time. But Jan, reading the note, was ready to move out right away. I put my hand up, and insistently motioned for her to wait. She was not understanding at all, getting impatient, and kept putting her hand around her throat as if to say she was having trouble breathing. And we couldn't really talk at all through the masks.

  But this was important. Ever since we had gotten out from under the trees, I had noticed it too: Breathing had become more difficult, and it was taking a lot more of it to get the oxygen we needed- even with the masks on.

  Then it dawned on me that the problem was likely a much higher content of not only sulfur, but also carbon dioxide in the air. The catastrophic blowout event probably had pumped billions of tons of carbon dioxide into the atmosphere, along with the sulfur. And this would dilute the oxygen content in the air, especially wherever that massive cloud went.