Clio and Cy: The Apocalypse

by Christopher Lee

  Keep your stuff together and stay on your toes Russ, he thought to himself. No way he was going to let anything happen to her, not if he had a say in the matter. Damn sure wasn’t going to let something bad happen due to his daydreaming, or a slip up. No way, stay sharp old man.

  “How much longer before we see one you think?”

  “You really want to take a shot at one of these things don’t you?”

  “Goddam… dang right I do,” Clio said staring off. Fire shot from her eyes as she scanned the open ground into the tree line on both sides.

  The two walked a couple of miles down the track before returning. Nothing appeared. “Let’s head back the other way,” Russ suggested.

  They walked another couple of miles in the opposite direction. Other than a few animals scurrying through the woods, not a damn thing piqued their interest.

  “Let’s take a break.”

  “Ok,” Clio answered, as if she didn’t want to.

  They sat on the tracks. “Now, what’s wrong with this picture?” Russ asked.

  The girl sat facing the same direction as the old man and thought before she answered… “We can’t see if anything comes up behind us?”

  “That’s correct, young Clio. Good… You’re catching on real good… must have some of your daddy in you…”

  Clio adjusted and placed her back against Russ. Feeling the warmth of the old man’s back through Bell’s shirt, she began thinking of her father.

  Suddenly, and without warning, Russ got up. She braced on her palms almost falling over.

  Class was in session for the entire day.

  “Look at me. Here’s another thing. When you stop…” Russ acted it out as he got down on one knee… “You get down like this and keep your weapon up. Ok? Look around… cover as much area as you can… be swiveling your head around. You want three hundred and sixty degree security whenever possible.”

  “Ok,” Clio answered looking around as if the lesson had already sunk in.

  “If I’m walking in the front that means you’ve got the…” Russ pointed at Clio. “Back,” she answered.

  “Perfect. You check the back every few seconds and when you turn around to face me - our eyes meet… we see each other.”

  “Got it,” Clio answered.

  “That way we both know we’re on the same page. Ok, Clio?”

  “Yes… That sounds easy enough.”

  “It is but it’s the little things that… that make the difference.”

  “My dad always said stick to the basics.”

  “That’s right. If you got your head up your as-- butt and aren’t paying attention… well… that’s when you get dead.”

  “Makes sense...”

  “Good.”

  “Russ, how do you know all of this?”

  The old man gazed up and drifting back in time. “Well… I was in the Army…”

  “You were in the war? Do you know…”

  “No, Clio. I was in the Army a long time ago. Long before the war started…”

  Clio gave up hope that Russ might know her father.

  “Do you know what Delta Force is?” Clio asked.

  Russ gazed off down the tracks and thought it strange that she would know of such a unit. He thought of fleeting images when he’d briefly worked with Delta Force Commandos, when he was part of the 75th Ranger Regiment.

  “How do you know about Delta Force, young lady?”

  “That’s who my dad is with.”

  “I see why you’re such a natural at this then…” Russ said as he glanced back at the girl still sitting down on the tracks.

  CHAPTER 27 - ATLANTA BURNS AGAIN

  “I've always liked Atlanta. And not just for the

  strip clubs, but the shopping and the food.”

  -Jon Stewart

  Only a handful of Marines made it out of the Eclipse high-rise before it toppled into rubble and burned in a long cloud of smoke that rose toward the heavens.

  Both Marine Corps tanks came out onto Pharr road to intercept the force of marching Ker.

  Over a dozen Ker fired and kept coming.

  The Army rushed in to engage, most of them on foot.

  While the Marine tanks continued gaining, four Ker turned south and waited for the Army Soldiers to get within range.

  Aiming at waves of Ker, the tanks fired one after the other. “Boom! Boom!” The drivers realized they had enemy flanking on both sides. Blasts from their main turrets shook the forty-ton machines and loosened dust off their armor. Twenty tons lighter than their predecessors, these tanks were fast.

  Both vehicles spun like clock hands, pivoting ass to ass, before zooming away from each other down Pharr road, and heading toward the Ker. Metal tracks ripped up the asphalt as they fired on the move. “Boom! Boom!” Each shot jolting the tanks but did not slow their progress.

  After destroying both Ker in its sights, the northbound tank kept charging when an incoming rocket launched past its turret, missing by inches.

  The southbound tank fired and missed its target of two Ker, paying for the mistake.

  Aiming at the tank, both Ker simultaneously fired shoulder-held rockets. Their metal bodies barely swayed when the projectiles launched from the tubes. Both rockets hit the tank and sent shrapnel in the air after striking. The motorized machine exploded into a fireball, killing its passengers.

  More Ker fired, hitting the only operational tank while racing at over 70MPH, still engaging. It was a glancing blow that sheared the turret to pieces and sent hot metal raining down on the drivers. The tank went off course and out of control when another missile struck it head on. Erupting into flames, it crashed through a building and burned orange and red blaze that spread across the stucco.

  The soldiers fired at the Ker and managed to take out a few with precision sniper shots.

  Giving better than they got, the Ker used heavy weapons to annihilate the Army dogs. Men were stomped on like ants. Some were just boys.

  The Marines watched their comrades blown to pieces and retreated for cover as soon as they made it out of the building.

  Some of the robots left the skirmish and walked down West Paces Ferry Road while leading the pack toward the President. A Hum-Z raced toward the first wave of Ker. The Marines inside the truck were shitting their pants but wanted pay back.

  Scoring a hit, the Hum-Z’s roof gunner fired 30mm depleted uranium rounds and wasted the lead Ker. The vehicle continued speeding to meet the next wave at the intersection, while the passenger leaned out and fired from the window.

  A few bots dropped to the ground as the gunner fired from the turret, his teeth rattling while hot casings showered the street behind them. Out of ammo, the roof gunner began reloading just as the driver was shot. The dead driver pushed the accelerator and slumped against the wheel. Unaware his driver was gone; the passenger continued to fire out his window and realized how fast they were going. “Slow down!” he shouted.

  The Hum-Z continued to fly at over 80mph toward a cluster of Ker. “Slow down Casey! You’re going too fas…” he glanced in and realized the driver was dead.

  The vehicle smashed head first into a Ker, splitting the truck down the middle like a paper cutter. When the truck slammed into the robot, the passenger was still leaning out the window. “Smash!” The Marines’ head came off and flew down the street and rolled across the intersection beyond a horde of Ker. Ejecting with the head, the roof gunner’s body launched over the turret.

  One head and a whole body raced across the street.

  Wrapped around its metal body, the Ker stood inside the Hum-Z, as if it were wearing the vehicle like a metal skirt.

  A handful of Marines and Soldiers continued to battle the robots, pursuing them and marching down West Paces toward the President. The trailing men heard gunshots growing louder as they neared the Governor’s mansion.

  2:38PM: The new White House was under attack:

  Six Sentinels infiltrated the President’s compound and prevented
the politicians from escaping.

  Dr. Pavlov had the old Governor’s mansion in sight through the viewers of his Ker warriors. He felt good that one of his main goals was almost within reach but empty, too, knowing nothing would bring his wife back and all of this killing wouldn’t change a thing. The world was all but destroyed and no matter what, he couldn’t take it back. What’s done is done, he thought. He knew there was no sense in stopping now.

  After several of their vehicles were blown to kingdom come, the President and cabinet ran back inside. They watched their security guards go down in alarming numbers.

  There was nowhere to hide but the basement. All they could do now was to wait.

  “Crash!” The Governor’s mansion shook. The Ker entered the building while Sentinels flanked and ran by, checking room to room.

  Someone started singing the national anthem from inside the basement. Making a somber yet joyful noise, the President and the rest joined in. “Whose broad stripes and bright stars, thro' the perilous fight…”

  After hearing the sound of human voices, the Sentinels swiveled their heads. They detected faint singing beneath their metal feet and quickly descended.

  The singing grew louder after the Sentinels reached the bottom level. Machines were at the door.

  “And the rockets' red glare, the bombs bursting in air, Gave…” their voices silenced the moment the bots entered the room.

  The cabinet members were taken back by the fact bots didn’t start firing the second they entered the room. After scanning the room, three Sentinels moved close and faced the humans.

  Dr. Pavlov had positive identification and gave the signal.

  The acting Vice President began singing defiantly and the others joined. “Gave proof thro' the night that our flag was still the...”

  Open fire! The Sentinels shot and killed the politicians before they could finish the line, “there.”

  The bots slaughtered all but one. Alive and surrounded by dead bodies, he was the first United States President ever taken prisoner.

  CHAPTER 28 - KISS GOODBYE

  “It is always sad when someone leaves home, unless they are simply going around the corner and will return in a few minutes with ice-cream sandwiches.”

  ― Lemony Snicket

  “I’m not sure how much longer we can stay here, Cy.”

  “I will keep us safe, Dr. Marcus.”

  “I know you will, Cy, but...”

  “The Ker, Dr. Marcus? Is that what you fear?””

  “I just have this bad feeling we’re going to get found out here eventually… Dr. Pavlov will find us sooner or later…”

  “Where would we go, Dr. Marcus? What about your work?” Cy said, pointing at himself.

  “It would have to be a place that I could continue it... You’re right about that, Cy.”

  “My files tell me that Charlotte would be the best place within a reasonable distance.”

  “Reasonable, Cy?” Dr. Pressfield responded. Walking down the street wasn’t reasonable, but he knew what his young cyborg meant.

  Dr. Pressfield’s excitement built and he suddenly realized why Cy suggested Charlotte.

  “Cy, you’re brilliant... just brilliant.”

  “The DARPA facility, Dr. Marcus?” Cy asked.

  Dr. Pressfield knew that the satellite DARPA facility had the latest and greatest equipment. “Yes… brilliant, Cy.”

  “It’s also near one of the Resistance Bases Dr. Marcus. One of only two, I might add.”

  “You’re right… if it’s still there…” Dr. Pressfield wondered. He knew of RMB Jackson outside of Charlotte because he and Colonel Reagner had spoken of it through correspondence a few times.

  Cy flipped the hologram switch on Dr. Pressfield’s computer and a map appeared - suspended in the air. “We could commandeer a vehicle once we got past this area,” the cyborg confirmed, pointing at the image.

  “It wouldn’t be easy, Cy. Other than you, we don’t have any weapons.”

  Dr. Pressfield knew they’d have to walk through a large part of northern VA before driving a car. The Destroyers would detect a moving vehicle. Easy fodder for their scanners…

  But once outside the reaches of their scanners… maybe… it’s possible, Dr. Pressfield thought. The roads though…

  “We’d need to find a vehicle that could go off road, Dr. Marcus.”

  Dr. Pressfield smiled and looked at his cyborg. “Reading my mind again? You got that right, Cy. The roads are probably screwed up… littered with vehicles… you name it… but if we make it…”

  “Charlotte… DARPA… Good idea, yes Dr. Marcus?” Cy asked in an arrogant playful smile.

  Cy’s face went expressionless again because Dr. Pressfield was too enveloped in thought to notice his cyborg’s attempt at being funny.

  “It could really change things... My work… Cy… just the equipment alone at DARPA!”

  “You mean I risked my neck for nothing, Dr. Marcus?” Cy said staring at the power generator that was hooked up in the middle of the living room, charging several other machines.

  “Sorry, buddy… that’s if the stuff at DARPA is still working. For all we know it’s a pile of rubble too.”

  “Not likely, Dr. Marcus. Other than big military bases, the south wasn’t hit that hard.”

  Dr. Pressfield walked inside the kitchen and grabbed one of the few remaining water bottles from the fridge as if to celebrate. “And that place is built like a bunker too,” he said before taking a swig. “Built that sucker to survive a hurricane… and then some…”

  Cy stared at his master with a strange inquisitive expression and spoke. “Dr. Marcus.”

  “What, Cy?” Dr. Pressfield asked spilling water down his neck…

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so excited before.”

  “Oh…” he said wiping off his chin before bringing the bottle back to his lips and finishing it with a few audible chugs.

  “I rather enjoy seeing you this way. I shall come up with brilliant ideas more often… If I can,” Cy said as if he were scanning for another one.

  Dr. Pressfield threw the bottle in the trash under the sink and leaned in to stuff the overflowing pile down. “Cy, anytime you want to … well then, you go ahead, buddy,” he said muffled from the lower cabinet.

  He shut the door and realized the trash needed to be taken out. Later… Dr. Pressfield ignored the chore and moved toward his cyborg.

  “I shall do my best, Dr. Marcus.”

  “Thanks Cy,” Dr. Pressfield said sarcastically walking by and pretending to hit his cyborg on the chin, stopping just short of touching the dimple in its center.

  “Shall I prep for the journey, Dr. Marcus?”

  “Yes… prep, Cy,” Dr. Pressfield said heading to his generator. He pondered the items he could take. Sadly, it wasn’t much.

  “I already have all of your files downloaded,” Cy stated, pointing to his head.

  “Generator has to go,” Dr. Pressfield said squatting over it, analyzing other items.

  “You need plenty of food and water, Dr. Marcus. That’s the most important thing… I’ll grab the hiking packs in the basement,” Cy announced before opening the door and walking down.

  Just the mention of the word hiking made Dr. Pressfield think about his wife.

  Hiking…

  He hadn’t been in a long time. Reminiscing, he longed to bask in the mountains fresh air while trying to impress her by naming all of the wildlife they saw. He missed her so damn much. The feeling was a bottomless pit that hadn’t dissipated an ounce since her death. Well, after Cy was born, the pain lessened a bit.

  Hiking was something they loved to do together. She’d gotten him into nature. Actually, she dragged him kicking and screaming into the woods. Dr. Pressfield was reluctant to spend any free time away from work. But he was never reluctant to spend time with her, well, not after… not after she’d cheated.

  After the affair was over, Marcus battled the demons of cheat
ing like any man would. The visions of her with another man would never leave his thoughts no matter how much they tried to repair their relationship. Now, even after her death, he still fought them.

  There was no excuse for her disloyalty. But he knew that in a way, albeit a much lesser way, he’d cheated on her too. Not with a woman, but by way of his work. The science of genes and the variation of organisms was his lover. He was trying to create something that had only been dreamed of. It wasn’t a secret love either.

  “Inventors don't have time for married life.”

  ― Nikola Tesla

  “Are you ever going to spend time with me?” God he wished he could hear her ask that question again.

  Curiously, somehow the post-cheating days made the relationship better than it had ever been. There was something masculine about always trying to win her back. She let him do it too.

  Each time he made her happy, without fail, he felt like a real man.

  His groundbreaking work mixed with the success he was having with his wife – both fanned the flames of his manhood.

  Marcus sensed that she never forgave herself for it though. It was a strange feeling to want to curse her name while also feeling sorry for her at the same time. He wasn’t the type of man that felt sorry for himself, but for her – yes, somehow, he did. God he loved her.

  Dr. Pressfield, the geneticist and scientist had relegated her to years of loneliness. She was a fantastic salesperson who didn’t pretend to grasp his work but she never hid her desire for human contact with her husband either. She desperately craved Marcus’s touch.

  She’d finally had enough of the longing to be needed; the desire for intimacy was ended with an exhilarating first encounter.

  Thoughts of suicide crossed her mind after she’d consummated the first intimate act with her secret lover. The affair was beyond confusing… She felt like a woman again, her secret lover’s touch was wonderful and nauseating at the same time. The second go around was easier, the third, and so on… But as the fucking got easier, the guilt mounted with the weight of Kilimanjaro on her soul.