by T. A. Uner
He exhaled: it sounded like hissing air through the oxygen tube. “I don’t see them anymore, if that’s what you mean.”
“Why?”
“It’s a long story.”
“I’ve got time.”
He was starting to like the girl. She was a good kid. Inquisitive. If he had had a little sister he would’ve wanted one like her.
“I don’t want them to see me like this.”
“What…your face?” He gave her a half-nod. Giselle giggled.
“After I was bitten in two by that T. Rex, I was operated on and shipped back to Ft. Mars in Cuba (Formerly Guantanamo Bay). They called it Mars because before the second civil war that’s where NASA astronauts trained for missions to other planets in our system. I was still half a man, maybe not in physical shape but psychologically. The look on their faces was too much to bear. My father and Mother both couldn’t stop the tears in their eyes and my little brother held my hand the whole time.” Reptilius slowed Arrow and swatted away a dragonfly that was buzzing around his head like a whirlpool.
“They treated me with pity and always asked if ‘they could help me’ with something. Like I was some invalid.”
“They were your family; they loved you Mal—…I mean Rept.”
He ignored her and continued, “Then there were my friends. We used to play sports together back in our neighborhood: football, baseball, basketball. They stopped asking me to play.”
“You mean they dissed you?”
He did not understand this term. Maybe it was slang from her time/reality. “If you mean did they stop hanging around me, the answer is, no. They only invited me to outings like movies, or fishing.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad.”
“It is if you’ve never fished before; neither did they. It was like they were making up excuses to not spend time with me. Soon, we drifted apart. I can’t say I blame them, there wasn’t much left of the old….Malcolm.”
He increased speed. She looked at him. Her eyes looked like they could burst into tears at any moment and he regretted telling her his story. She has enough problems as is, now you go and mess her up a little bit more.
Giselle wondered what had made this strange man open up to her. Was it her persistence? Or maybe he had needed someone to talk to? They shared the same dilemma. He was human, and had become machine. And she was once human, but now a Vampire.
She still didn’t feel like one, despite her increased speed and strength. Maybe, deep down, her humanity still existed. It sounded weird but that was how she felt. She wondered why the strange homeless man, Archie, had brought her here. First he had taken her to a strange world he called Atlas. Archie (or Archon as he called himself) had taught her the history of his planet as well: how his people had lived hundreds of millions of years ago: advancing from primitive bipedal creatures; how they had warred for countless centuries, how they had nearly destroyed themselves during their volatile nuclear age, how they had advanced to starfaring beings searching the universe for other intelligent lifeforms. After making many mistakes, they, like all living things, evolved.
He taught her how to control her emotions and how they could destroy her if she wasn’t careful. She was given lessons in literature, science, mathematics. Borrowed from races that
spanned the universe. He introduced her to his family and to the remaining Timekeepers who inhabited his world. The last survivors of his planet.
“When can I go back?”She had once asked Archie.
“You are needed here, child,” he had told her.
“But I miss my family.”
“And they miss you too, but in other realities you are still with them, and they with you.”
Giselle didn’t understand what he meant by ‘other realities’ but it sounded important. She couldn’t believe that Vampires existed. She thought they were only around to fill a spot in horror genre, and not much else. Archie (He didn’t look happy when she called him that but still didn’t make an issue of it) had told him that an extremist branch of Vampires called “The Sect” had infiltrated countless realities. They had splintered from the main Vampire population originating from a world called Kaotika that had been conquered by a Reptilian Warlord called Reptokk. These extremists, The Sect, had developed technology that allowed them to “Reality-shift” through time and space. Using their secret police force called “The Black Arm” they tampered with realities, trying to alter the course of universal history by infiltrating various planets. But Archie had told her that he was assigned to an iota of space which contained her home Planet: Earth.
She had gained even more value to Archie’s people when her reality had been infiltrated by The Sect and her death had given them the excuse for testing their new Vampire clones. When she had rebelled, they had tried to kill her. Archie journeyed to Earth to extract her and bring her to Atlas where she could be trained as his apprentice. “You are now immortal, Giselle,” he had said. She spent more time with Archie. After time he didn’t mind when she called him that name. Still, her training was demanding, and she feared her mind might explode from excessive knowledge being fed to her.
She thought about her family. Every single day.
When they found Holbourne he was sitting on the couch, rubbing his temples. Sawtooth was looking at the doctor distrustfully, if that was possible for a croc.
“I have the supplies, Doctor.” Reptilius placed the bio gel packs on the table in front of Holbourne. The Englishman was now reading some paper documents from a manila folder. It had been ages since Reptilius had seen such materials. “What are you reading, doctor?”
Holbourne eyed him suspiciously and Reptilius’ artificial nostrils picked up the whisky smell. “Don’t you know? It’s the specs on your cyborg components. You gave these to me.”
“I gave you a tablet doctor…have you been drinking?”
Sawtooth snarled. If he’s been drinking the croc’s whiskey, that explains why the scaly boy is sullen. “I had a sip, alright. To calm my nerves.”
“It’s begun,” Giselle said. She looked frightened.
“What’s begun?” Reptilius asked.
“Those ‘Temporal Transgressions’ I mentioned to you—our realities are shifting. Here is the tablet doctor.” She handed it to Holbourne. “That’s alright my dear I believe I know enough now to fix-up Malcolm here. Quite impressive really, that’s the beauty of it, so advanced, it’s simple.”
“We better get started.” Holbourne took the gel-packs, eying them meticulously. Reptilius asked Giselle to stand watch on the porch with Sawtooth while he pondered their impending problem. He knew the anomaly was close by, and the first time it was a scout Zombie that was sent from…well…somewhere. The next batch, they were more of a hodge-podge breed of Zombie. Now, what would come next he did not know. But there was no way the four of them could win.
Unless they had help.
Holbourne got to work on the back of his head and Reptilius felt the gel pack lubrication glide across his shopworn micro-circuitry. The gel helped replenish the fibers inside him and upgrade them to gelatinous state, the successor to his own micro-circuitry. It was like Holbourne said ‘so advanced, it’s simple.’ “How do you feel, mate?”
Reptilius nodded. “I can feel my initial strength returning.”
“It’s like a bodybuilder who quits working out: then realizes when he returns to the sport that he was always strong, but never as strong as when he was in peak condition. But with this technology it does not appear to need upgrading; still, I’d hand onto those extra packs.”
Giselle returned, Sawtooth next to her. He really needed to fix that door. The open door was wrecking havoc on his air-cooling system. “Rept, you gotta come out here and take a look at this.” Sawtooth groaned in agreement.
He slipped on his helm and felt one again. Then, observing Giselle’s pointing finger, he saw it.
A bright light above a littoral zone across from the house. It was a slice of light, not wide enough to
allow an army of Death Walkers through—at least not yet, it was opening slowly—so they still had time. “Why are they coming through here?”
“I’ve been giving that some thought,” Giselle replied. “There must be something of value here.”
“Strategic importance mate,” Holbourne added.
“Maybe it’s the new airbase built over the remains of Pembroke Pines?”
“I didn’t know Zombies could fly jets.”
“Not jets, but if they overran the base that would cripple a large section of Southeastern defenses. No. There must be something else.”
Reptilius headed toward his storage facility. Both Giselle and Holbourne followed. He handed them small bags of canisters and opened a closet that had two large rifles. He grabbed the weapons and made toward the shoreline until he was directly under the growing anomaly.
“Now you two are going to lay those canisters around this terrain.” He pointed to a swamp estuary that veined off into the distance. “These mines will tear the Zombies to shreds, and in the event that bodies start piling up we’ll need that estuary to flush them out.”
He showed them how to arm the mines, making sure they covered a wide area to maximize the destruction factor. Then he handed them rifles. “These are Ion Disintegrators, used during the T. Rex campaigns.” He gave a brief introduction to the use of the weapon.
Holbourne inspected his rifle’s long muzzle and looked impressed. “You won’t need an elephant gun to catch big game with this beauty by your side.”
Giselle looked doubtful. “Even with these powerful weapons we still would have a hard time outlasting an entire army of those pus-eyed creatures.”
Reptilius liked the way she caught on fast. “That’s because I have a second plan that will hopefully work.”
“Hopefully, mate?” Holbourne slapped his palm against his forehead. “Dear God, a countless hoard of those bloody wankers are coming to invade this reality and you put all your faith in ‘hopefully?’”
Beneath his helm, Reptilius smiled sheepishly.
***
Leaving Sawtooth and his two friends behind, Reptilius took off toward the southern quadrant of the swamp. He looked across the landscape and saw the slow rise of evening fill the sky. His artificial eyes registered a light blue tint while a thin carpet of pink arced toward the skyline.
Arrow flew past a thick reed patch were two Roseate Spoonbills were grazing within a shallow circle of water. White backs resembling Floridian sand, layered plumage of their wings with matching pink eyes. The swamp once catered to thousands of these creatures, but the passage of time and man’s indifference had led to their decline. But Reptilius had no time to rue the past; a bigger threat was alive now.
The swamp catered to a particularly vicious breed of Velociraptor Reptilius had nicknamed the “Blue Butchers.” The name coming from the blue feathers that adorned their scales. Some of these Raptors had evolved into birds, while a vast majority hadn’t. The same mutations that had affected Sawtooth were responsible for spawning the Blues, who possessed five times the strength of a normal human. Reptilius had first taken notice of their vicious nature when he had stumbled upon one Blue that had ambushed a flock of ibises. The smaller birds’s white downy feathers drowned in red blood. It was a scene that was etched in his memory.
He heard the loud cry of the Blues and slowed Arrow so he could get a detailed heat reading. Six hundred yards from him, hiding behind a wall of brown wrinkled clouds that had swallowed the once green foliage. The fire was probably the work of another Dino-Hunter, who had tried to drive the Blues out. To Reptilius it looked like the work of an amateur hunter. Sixty-seven beeps registered on his heat reader and his heart started pounding. If they caught him now it would cripple his plan. He wanted to use them to ambush the Zombies, not get ambushed himself.
A wrecked motor skiff came into view. Swamp Fly was written on its shattered bow. Upon closer inspection he noticed it was shattered.
He might’ve been able to take on a few, but sixty-seven would be difficult, even for his experience and firepower. Arrow had front and rear repulsers but the Blues had strength in numbers. He started dropping his modified beacons into the water and tossing a few toward the shore, as he did, he thought he saw a torn boot float past Arrow, but he couldn’t tell. These beacons, when activated would attract the Blues’ attention. At least that’s the plan, he thought. If this failed, they would be overrun by Zombies. He kept up his work. Then loaded the rest of the beacons in the depth charge launcher. It would help distribute the remaining beacons quickly.
He powered up the engine and headed home.
“I don’t think you should be drinking right now, Doc,” Giselle said. Sawtooth hissed at Holbourne. Undaunted, the Scientists waved his rifle at the beast.
“Get away from me or I’ll turn you into a pair of shoes.”
“I think that whiskey belongs to Sawtooth.”
“Really, my dear, a whiskey-drinking crocodile?”
She said, “Reptilius told me it helps Sawtooth move his bowels. He is after all, a mutant.”
Holbourne took one last swig of the Southern Comfort and placed it in front of the croc. “There you are you miserly mass of scales, I saved the rest for you.”
“Doctor is something wrong?”
This girl was bright. Or maybe it was because of her heightened senses brought on by her Vampire clone body. Holbourne didn’t know, he wasn’t an expert on cloning, his specialty was artificial lifeforms. Still, he couldn’t keep it inside himself anymore. And she was now his friend. “Yes something is wrong, Giselle, something is very wrong.”
Why was he telling her this? Was his reality shifting again? Was this another Holbourne speaking to another Giselle in another reality? It was possible. “I killed a girl, Giselle,” he said dejectedly. “She was your age. I hit her with my car while coming home from work.”
“What?”
Sawtooth looked up from the bottle he was guzzling down. He grunted his surprise as well.
Holbourne placed his rifle on the ground and looked up at the anomaly. It was getting larger and larger, not by much but there it was.
“Yes, coming home from work one night. She…she was about your age. Very pretty.”
Giselle looked like she would drop her rifle. “Doctor, were you drunk?”
He nodded. He had never felt so embarrassed in his life. “The truth is I only started drinking during a major project. Before that I hardly ever drank. Then the Black Arm got involved and everything hit the shit. ”
“Did you say Black Arm?”
He nodded again.
“Now that you mention them you might as well tell me everything. I am Archon’s student. Maybe I can help.”
He told her about the two men who had visited her in the hospital room: Longface and Serious. She held his hand and nodded compassionately. He almost loved her like his own daughter, she was that kind.
“But after their visit, Giselle, things really got messed up…”
After he had been discharged, the Cybernetics division of MI6 had held a “Welcome Back” party for him. He felt guilty accepting the presents and eating the cake they had made for him. “I’m a bloody drunk driver that killed an innocent girl,” he wanted to tell them. But he didn’t. He just nodded like a wanker and accepted their kindness.
They told him that karma would catch up to the drunk driver who had hit him. “You’re too valuable to die on us,” his colleague, Smithers, had told him.
“Yes,” Holbourne wanted to reply. “I am a very ‘valuable’ alcoholic who killed an innocent teenage girl. Now fucking shoot me. That’s what I deserve.”
Weeks had passed and he had tried to forget about the incident. He drank more and more, but the memory of that poor girl’s face could never left his psyche. But one day, he did forget about her.
That was when they returned.
He was working on one of the new androids. A female model dubbed “Millie-Type” He marveled at
the new life he would be creating. One that would prevent a valuable MI6 operative from dying in the field.
“Hello, doctor.”
He remembered that voice. Holbourne turned around and almost pissed his trousers like he did that night he hit the girl.
“What…what are you doing here?”
Mister Serious was standing next to Longface. He never smiled like Longface, and why would he? That was not his job. Holbourne did not want to know what Serious’s job was.
“Here…here,” Serious said.
“Fuck you arsehole!” Holbourne wanted to say.
“I told you…doctor (when Longface said it, it sounded like dok-tohhrr) we have an interest in you.”
Serious eyed him through his red-tint glasses. He nodded twice.
Longface walked over toward where the Millie android was resting. Her nude body was as pristine and perfect as a newborn’s.
“Impressive,” Longface said. He looked over at Serious. “Impressive…Impressive,” Serious added.
A small flacon appeared in Longface’s hand. It had a transparent stopper and the red liquid inside it reminded Holbourne of a lava lamp. White and pink bubbles expanded and retracted, but the white-pink always reverted to its original red state.
Holbourne did not want to ask what that fluid was, but he had to know. Being ignorant of what these fiends were doing made him feel like he was one of them.
He asked.
Longface smiled and undid the stopper. “Why this?” A thin swirl of pink smoke curled out of the vial. It lit up Longface’s pale face. When he smiled again his four prominent Vampire fangs shone. “This is Isabel…the young girl you murdered that night.” He laughed. Serious emitted two quick bursts of laughter. “Or shall I say the girl we killed and placed under your car.”
“You…what?” Holbourne said Serious grabbed his arm and squeezed. Hard. He felt as if his bones were caught in a clamp from hell.
“Don’t ever yell again…again.” Serious released his grip and Holbourne felt his muscles return to their former state. A bit sore now, but that was unavoidable.
