by Q J Martin
Elizabeth stood there, growling. She was hunched over, staring at Logan with hungry eyes. A part of her, however, seemed to display a sense of recognition. Her gaze didn’t waver for even a moment as she watched Logan’s every move, but aside from that, she was completely stationary.
“What happened to you?” Logan repeated. “Why did you come here? Why did you risk it?” Logan took a deep breath. “Where are the children?”
She didn’t respond.
“Where are they? If you can tell me anything, anything at all, tell me where Glenn and Roselyn are.”
Logan swore that she perked up as he uttered the names of their children, as if she remembered them, or she knew where they were. Her face scrunched up, as if she thought of their fate and lamented it, in her own way.
Skylar began laughing. “You can shoot my men with no problem. Let’s see if you can shoot the mother of your children.” He stretched his arms out and pointed them straight at Logan.
Logan watched as Elizabeth perked up. He looked between Skylar and Elizabeth, Skylar and Elizabeth, then closed his eyes. He took a deep breath, exhaled, and pulled the trigger.
Skylar fell to the ground, blood pouring out of the back of his head. His wound stitched itself back together, but he remained there on the ground, motionless.
Logan expected Elizabeth to attack the second Skylar’s control over her was withdrawn. Instead, she took a long, hard look at him. There was sadness in her eyes. She turned around and walked off.
Chapter XXV
The stranger walked over to Logan. “That vas Elizabeth, vasn’t it? Und you’re Logan.”
Logan nodded somberly.
“I vorked vith her. She vas a good scientist, and a great friend,” he said somberly.
“I know she was," Logan sighed. “I guess I’ve always known that.” He looked back at this man, this scientist who had come out of the laboratory. “What’s your name?”
He hesitated. “Gustaf,” he said finally. “Gustaf Koenig. I came out to varn you. They’re going to be destroying Rochester in six minutes.”
As he said this, a helicopter flew over the city blaring the same message. “Rochester will be fully quarantined in 6 minutes. All survivors are urged to evacuate immediately—”
A high-pitched whistle echoed through the city, increasing in volume. A line of smoke shot across the sky, straight into the helicopter. It blew into a thousand pieces and fell to the ground nearby.
“I guess that’s it,” Logan said, defeat in his voice as he clutched the shredded remnants of his hand. “Rochester is going to be destroyed.”
“We need to get somewhere safe,” Gustaf said.
“We have nowhere to go,” Logan said, his eyes downcast.”
“That’s not entirely true,” Gustaf corrected him.
“Where can we go?” Zachariah asked, walking up to them with a gun in his hands.
“The laboratory.” Gustaf pointed at the building. “Most of it is underground. It functions as a bomb shelter, and is 70 percent self-sustaining. We could last in there for over a year before having to replenish the system.”
Logan could hear the growls of Infected all over the city, responding to the gunshots, to the sounds of the helicopters flying overhead. He took a deep breath. “I don’t think we have any choice,” Logan said, looking out over everyone who remained, at Zachariah and Isabel, Petra and Wesley, over Abigail, grimacing in pain, over Luke and the other Brotherhood men who had dropped their arms immediately after the fighting commenced, not willing to follow Skylar any longer.
“In five minutes, this city is going to be destroyed. There will be nothing left but rubble. The Infected will be here before that. The only option we have left is to go into…” Logan stopped, looking at Gustaf.
“Sanctum Pharmaceuticals East Laboratory.”
“Sanctum Pharma…” Logan rolled his eyes. “Why don’t we just call it Sanctuary? We have a chance to make this place our Sanctuary, a safe haven from the Infected. I won’t force anyone go in, but you’re all welcome to,” he said, silently recollecting when Skylar had uttered nearly the same words.
This would be different.
“I’ll go,” Abigail said between gritted teeth.
“I’ll go in,” Zachariah said, looking at his family. “We all will.”
“I will,” Luke whimpered. “If you’ll have me.”
The Brotherhood men nodded in agreement.
“Then we better get going,” Logan sighed.
Logan looked out at the cityscape behind him. He guessed that was it. All the promises, all the efforts, all the sacrifices—they had all amounted to nothing. There was nothing left to do. He would never find his children. He would never save Elizabeth.
He glanced back at Jane, the woman he would never see again. The woman he would never get to know. The woman he would never get to love. He was the last one to enter Sanctuary. As the blast-door shut behind him, he turned to say his last goodbye to everything and everyone he would never see again. As he looked over Jane’s face one last time, he swore he saw her blink.
Epilogue
The sun rose over the smoldering remains of what was once Rochester, Minnesota. The ScatterShot had done its job. The city had become a jagged, wrecked, and worthless shadow of what it had once been.
The only thing that remained as a testament to the longevity of humankind was one building, one story of one building, standing among the wreckage: Sanctum Pharmaceuticals East Laboratory. It was in the shadow of this building that the rubble shifted, and Skylar came tumbling out, covered in soot, his clothes all but burnt off, but his flesh perfect and smooth.
“Jesus Christ, that hurt!” he exclaimed
He brushing off the few remnants of clothing that were left on his body.
“It wasn’t enough to just be shot through the frikkin’ brain,” he said, raising his voice and looking towards the heavens. “I had to have a frikkin’ ScatterShot dropped on my head!”
He began walking through the wreckage, combing through it, shifting it around.
“Where are you?” he called out. “I know you’re around here somewhere. Come on!”
Finally, he found what he was looking for, the slender, naked frame of a beautiful woman stood out through the wreckage.
“And they say dreams don’t come true.”
Jane grunted, then turned over, debris tumbling off of her. “You piece of shit,” she whispered.
“What?” he asked, leaning in closely.
“I said, you piece of shit!” She rose up and slapped him across the face. “You were going to rape me!”
“Come on, Jane.”
“Don’t call me that,” she said, crossing her arms.
“That’s what Logan called you.”
“You know that’s not my real name.”
“You didn’t seem to mind it when he called you by your not real name.”
Jane walked off, huffing.
“Come on, Jane! You know I couldn’t help it. If you want someone to blame for what happened, blame the humans. They’re the ones who did this to us.”
“Them,” Jane said, “and Scott.”
“Scott,” Skylar spat. “I don’t know why you ever trusted that schmuck. I told you he wouldn’t join us.”
“I had to try. You know that.”
“Yeah, well. What’s done is done.” Skylar paused. “I’m still just having a hard time getting over the fact that you hooked up with a loser like Logan.”
“Oh yeah? How would you know if we hooked up? Besides, what do you care? He’s a nice guy. A hell of a lot nicer than you, at the very least.”
“Hmph.” Skylar walked off, putting an end to the conversation.
He looked toward the part of the Laboratory that was still standing above ground, a marker to identify one of the only safe places left in the country, if not the world.
“Now, we just need to come up with a way to get in there,” Skylar said. “But first, let’s get the band back to
gether.”
“And get some clothes,” Jane sighed. “I’m tired of you gawking every time you look my way. You’re starting to get a little too happy, if you know what I mean.”
“Yeah, shut it,” Skylar said.
Then they walked off toward the rising sun.
About The Author
Quincy Jameson Martin has run the gamut when it comes to his day job. From IT to janitorial to food processing to construction, he hasn’t shied away from doing whatever is needed to provide for his family. Still, writing, especially epic world-building, will always be his greatest love.
It all started for QJ when he was a young boy, crafting large-scale stories of good and evil with his action figures. His grandfather suggested that he write the stories down rather than simply continue the process of creating and forgetting, and ever since then, that idea has grown in the back of his mind to become his dream profession.
QJ is currently living in Mississippi with his wife, his four feline friends, and the newest yapping little canine addition to the family. When he’s not working, he enjoys reading, watching movies and television, playing video games, and building his Blu-Ray/DVD collection.
