Apocalypse at Harpers Lane

by Mackenzie Mazerolle

  “My sweet Silga, It’s too late for you now. I gave you a chance, and now I’ve made a deal with… Something.”

  “I don’t want your chances! I don’t want you! Just get out of my life and take your psycho subjects with you!” Silga prepared herself to fight, alas was halted by her remaining comrades. They were taken back by the appearance of their oppressor. He seemed more focused, but so were they. The sun would be up soon, these sun junkies will be in full force with it. As for this dystopian character, he did what he always did which was laugh at their efforts and mock at the hilarity of hope.

  “You’ll all get yours, I’ll see you soon Joe!”

  The professor was lost to the will of the merciless influence, that which called itself Mr. Dystopia. With everything he desired in front of him, he became weak at the thought of his wrongdoing and of his harm to his estranged wife. This opened a gate which flooded in the seas of guilt until he reached the point of which his experiments reached his mind. No, it was not pitiful regret as if he shouldn’t have done it, it was only rage as he clenched his fist in remorse screaming ‘why couldn’t I finish’! This led to his eclipse, just prior to the realization of his discovery. It was it he found in the depths of his psycho-active dreams. This cartoon character from hell that has yet to reveal his true self... We see only the grim outcome of Professor Isaacs’ termination into something far more corrupt, or else just corrupt enough to dominate his worlds.

  Far above we find the alternative life forms, observing as commanded. Though their speech could never be really understood in any language on earth, I have translated what I anticipate would be said if indeed these fellows be where they may be;

  “I don’t like the looks of this X, I don’t like the looks of this one bit.”

  “Dammit Y what do you expect me to do? You saw that puppet! His master clearly does not reside within this dimension or the next. He’s out of our jurisdiction.”

  “What about the remaining humans? I really think we should have called mother X… We should have called the mother a long time ago.”

  “And tell her what? That we took her ship without telling anybody? That we got ourselves caught, again by the people on the ant world?” Have you seen what they watch down there? They are scared shitless as it is! And you know mum knows we have something to do with at least a few of those incidents.”

  “That crop circle was your idea!”

  “I told you it’s art! And what about that human you took? You said he was a brainless soldier human and when you took him back he spent his whole life writing books about us! And everything dammit, he nearly brought the race up to speed if it weren’t for you. Can you imagine humans running around in space, doing what they do here everywhere else? Planets swallowed up and excreted back into the cosmos, tainted by their primitive ways.”

  “This is different X; this isn’t a human we’re talking about. We have to consult Mother, we’ve got to consult the ants and they’re probably going to get a hold of the Vekto/”

  “Calm down Y alright! But I’m not telling her about the dog…”

  . . .

  Silga, Joe and Goerge sat together in the living room, a fire warming the blood inside and exterior of their skin. Elize was unconscious while Silga squeezed warm water from a cloth above her.

  “I’m sorry you guys… I realize now, I’ve been out of my mind lately…”

  Joe looked at Goerge with relief;

  “It’s ok Silga. It’s quite understandable considering the circumstances… As long as you tell me you’re back now.”

  “Ah shut up Joe, she’s back, aren’t ya Silga? Yaa, it’s good to have you back. We need the numbers.”

  “Sure guys, I’m here. I’m just confused now. I mean I know some things, but other things still just don’t make any sense.”

  “Joe, I think that’s your cue.”

  “Ya, well I don’t have all the answers myself. I mean with what’s going on outside, and with Jim and this guy who calls himself Mr. Dystopia… It all has something to do with stories I’ve written and well, characters I’ve created.”

  “Such as Jim Welsh?”

  “Yes, exactly. But there’s something different about it all. I mean, my stories had a plot and it wasn’t to torture me and you guys. Besides, stories aren’t supposed to come true… They’re stories.”

  “When this whole world is dead and gone, what’s the point of existing if you don’t create a story.”

  “What do you mean Silga?”

  “I don’t know, my crazy stepdad out there killing everybody, he would always go on about his insane theories on how thoughts were more real than what the world perceived as reality. As in, we live in the stain of existence, already written and already out of date. It’s all just one big blob of a moment, but within this blob lays little wholes, fragments between this blob and I don’t know… A better universe or something?”

  “As crazy as that sounds, my own sensibility tells me there’s truth in that considering the whole world looks like it got swallowed up into hell.”

  “We don’t know that Joe.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We don’t know that it’s beyond the town.”

  “… God dammit Goerge you’re brilliant! Maybe it’s like a fog or a haze, and we’re caught in between dimensions because of it. Maybe if we get far enough we can get out!”

  “That’s all great and fine Joe but what about Elize, or daywalkers, or Mister- fucking Dystopia!”

  “I don’t know… What do you propose?”

  “We get supplies and continue to bunker down until we’re stronger and Elize is better.”

  “That’s actually a pretty good plan… Should listen to her Joe, women got her sense back and enough to spare for me and you.”

  “Alright… We’ll go in a couple hours right before the sun comes out. Seems to be when they’re the calmest.”

  “Sure… But I’m staying behind with Elize.”

  And so the crew did as was said, their plan in hand brought Silga upstairs as she nursed Elize. Downstairs Joe and Goerge were just leaving. They went to the alley beside the house and unhinged the tarp that was over the ninety- four Honda Accord.

  “Hell ya”, Goerge exclaims. They get in and Joe turns the key. It’s loud but starts, too loud as Goerge notices a daywalker sleeping under the porch. It looked like any other hobo while not aware if they even ever are aware. Goerge could see that it was not the car that woke him, but a single ray of light that found its way to the unsightliness forehead. It immediately drove him completely mad as his eyes widened and exacted on the two targets attempting to drive away. “Punch it, Joe!” And Joe did just that, up the hill which led to king street, a quick left and arriving at Main Street. This was the heart of downtown and so as in any homeless apocalypse, a reasonable survivor survives by avoiding this place altogether.

  Pulling up quickly to the king street intersection, Joe looks left to stare hell in the eyes; he sees nothing but can feel the awesomeness of the evil which lurked within it. Returning to the right direction Joe’s attention moves with the steering wheel and they start pulling away until they’re brought to a complete stop by a sight I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy, though perhaps my best friends considering the humor one can appreciate with the right eyes; a shopping cart full of long-haired, studded leather jacket homeless punks. One was pushing and riding once obtaining momentum, one sat, one lunged forward while holding a javelin. The one sitting had a machete and the other was wearing boxing gloves. They screamed and laughed and rode straight for the car.

  “…What the hell is that Joe…? Is that… Is that the Clamidiots? Holy shit Joe that’s the Clamidiots! Are they infected?”

  “I think so. We’ll just avoid them for now… Here I’ll go up Rabba Ijazah… Whatever the hell that sign says.” After turning they could see the shopping cart come to a screeching crash as they tried
to turn too quickly. They rolled around in agony, one of them got up and started kicking the driver as they began to turn right up Steadman Street only to again be stopped by a mob of daywalkers. Joe and Goerge watched as they walked out from the shade and into the sunlight, immediately breaking into an angry sprint towards them. “What the / … Go left Joe!”

  “We can’t that’s downtown!”

  “We don’t have a choice man, GO!”

  “Left it is” … They turned and punched it, just as they did one of the punks from the shopping cart jumped on the hood of the car, Javelin in hand. He yelled ‘yeeeee yeee yeeeaaaaaaa!” And began piercing the window and striking Goerge’s arm. Joe panicked and floored the car and they made seventy kilometers an hour before crashing into the traffic lights. The punk flew back but was getting up; his right leg bent the opposite direction.

  “What do you think Joe, is he one of them?”

  “Hard to say for sure, they did like their angel dust.”

  Joe backed up and they drove deep into downtown in hopes of making it to the highway at West Main Street. Just a few minutes of pedal to the floor and the expectation was to be home safe, to find the highway and drive to the next town and get help for Silga, Elize and the town.

  “Why do you figure it’s so quiet down here?”

  “I don’t know… If only it weren’t so deadly, this place would be pretty fun right now. Imagine a whole downtown city to yourself.”

  “ya right Goerge, I kind of miss humans and civility myself. Besides I don’t have to imagine hard.”

  “Sure if you call working from pay-check to pay-check, five days a week for a lifetime civility. Sounds like slavery to me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean look at this place, if it weren’t for those fucking hobo’s we could plant some gardens, find a spring and drink water for free… Look at all these empty buildings, we could live somewhere different every week… Every day… God damn it, Joe, drop me off.”

  “What!?”

  “Drop me off, I’d rather take my chances here than back in ‘that’ world. This is exciting! I’d rather fight for my life every day with weapons and face to face rather than just cooperate with rules made by some dickwad billionaires and company tycoons. I’m done with ‘buy useless shit with money you don’t have or else go outside and curl up and die… Fuck Joe, I’ve had enough. Drop me off at the liquor store I think I’ll live there tonight.

  “Man you’re not talking sense that sounds like suicide. That’s just one view, we as a species are far too insignificant in the grand scheme of the universe to count one singular opinion as law while another ‘senseless’ or ‘illogical’. I’m done with this ‘civility’ you speak of. Drop me off at the liquor store now!”

  As close as they were, at the intersection where straight means west main and left was the liquor store, still downtown. That’s where they went. Goerge got out of the car, behind him Joe followed.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Getting some road beers. “

  Goerge laughed, their good feeling moment was quickly put to halt as they looked inside the store and saw movement and some crashing.

  “Oh fuck that, no way am I going to let some bed-less crumb break my stash. You coming, Joe?”

  “Ya sure, what’s the worst that can happen?”

  Going inside, neither of them could have possibly seen what was to come, and who they would see. The doors were still automated as they let them in the store, around a counter and to the side of the store they saw the movement. Another bottle breaks and they close in on the unknown’s position. To their dismay, Jim stood shaking on his knees, covered in liquor. He was laughing, though clearly was in a lot of pain.

  “My… My god damned head… My head, god…” Jim looks up and sees ’s Joe; “You! Filthy, filthy Joe, you did this to me!”

  While Jim finished his words he revealed the syringe which lay amongst the broken glass.

  “This, this fucking thing! What the hell is it! Why won’t he let me die?” Jim plunged the syringe into the back of his head. He didn’t hit the pineal gland, but it didn’t matter considering the nature of the substance and matter which Jim survived on. There was no chemistry in this mind, the only collision. Jim would fail his master quite miserably as instead of finalizing his power Jim would deteriorate the realm in entirety.

  Jim fell to the ground. After which he began to sink in. As he fell down a deep black hole the hole would follow him down for eternity until finally, the fabric surrounding the hole would fall with it, like a sheet carrying numerous items while succumbing to an inward collapse.

  “Jesus Joe, what is that!”

  “It only looks like one thing to me… Let’s go!”

  They ran as fast as they could back to the car, behind them the hole had grown to the size of the store, swallowing it up. As they drove the pace quickened the more matter was consumed.

  “Joe it’s getting faster! Step on it!”

  It didn’t take long to get back on track, they were already across west main when things went from as bad as they could get (anywhere in the universe for that matter) to impossible as the highway in front of them crumbled. Only just a bit, rocks could be seen before a hand broke out and directly behind it that evil tormenting bastard, Mr. Dystopia. Everything was quick as the car drove at about a hundred and sixty now.

  “Screw it Joe, hit him!”

  Joe didn’t say anything, he swallowed hard and leaned forward. Just before impact, Joe could see that Mr. Dystopia was looking directly at him, he could also see him smiling.

  The car made an impact; Mr. Dystopia didn’t move an inch. The front of the car crunched back to the axle before Joe and Goerge flew through the window and into the air. Meanwhile, during airtime, Mr. Dystopia grabbed Joe by the foot while Goerge carried on his flight path, tumbling to the ground like an inanimate rag doll.

  Joe, unfortunately, was fine. It was just him and Mr. Dystopia now, on the highway out of town. Behind them, the black hole could easily be seen approaching like an angry inverted tsunami.

  Chapter Seven

  DADDY’S GIRL

  Meanwhile back at Harpers Lane, Silga kept over Elize as she seemed to sleep the deepest sleep of her life. Silga was thinking about her real father. His death led to all of this, he wasn’t the greatest of men but as flawed as he was he seemed to keep the world together. Since he died everything turned inside out. The day her mother took that pill, she was dead. The moment they met Professor Isaacs, they were worse off than the streets.

  “Silgaaaaaa! Daddy’s home! Come to Daddy Girl!”

  A moment of disbelief occurred right before that same insanity that’s plagued Silga since this realm took to mutation, she rushed downstairs and seen the man, Professor Isaacs. He seemed to lack the other half of him, the dystopian side. This made her hate him even more.

  “Are you mortal?”

  “You mean can I be killed?”

  “That’s exactly what I mean.”

  “No, my sweet Silga you cannot kill me. He won’t allow it.”

  “What is that thing? Why won’t you leave me alone! You took my mother, you killed my friends! You birthed this nightmare!”

  “I found something… or rather, I materialized something.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Dark Matter, my sweet. I discovered Dark Matter, or at least I materialized some of it. And you wouldn’t believe what happened next, my dreams, the thoughts that I always knew could penetrate this blob of an existence, they became as real as me!”

  “You idiot, all you did was unleash hell. You deserve to die along with every brick and bone in this godforsaken city!”

  “You cannot forsake this power, Silga. Join me now, enough fighting. Live with me as gods! This other half is strong my dear, we could own this world! Or more! Let us follow him to the beyond dimension
s, where real is really real and the truth is all that there is!”

  Silga was quiet, the anger subsided. How could there be anger when there is no hope? How do you fight when you’ve already lost?

  “You’re insane… I’ll never be your daughter!” While standing at the top of the stairs, time stood still for her wanting father as he witnessed his loving daughter raise her right hand to her mouth. She rested her wrist on her teeth and began to bite. There was a pinch of pain but only Isaacs felt it. He began rushing upstairs but only hastened her viciousness. She spits the hunk of flesh that was her wrist to the floor which was followed by blood flowing down is massive amounts. Isaacs made contact while her teeth were already piercing the other wrist. As the skin tore he squeezed her in a seemingly futile embrace. Blood was everywhere, and Isaacs held Silga who quickly became white. There wasn’t a trace of anger anywhere. Silga had been cursed the burden of a cruel life and now was permitted the mercy to leave it. It was in this instant that the professor felt his last human emotion. With Silga’s last breath, so was the last living memory of Professor Isaacs D. Charles.

  “No! What did you do to Silga… You monster!”

  The bloodied, long and lanky wild looking professor faintly dropped the corpse which was Silga. With dead eyes that turned to fury, he turned towards Elize. He approached her, his rage increasing with every step.

  “Please, hasn’t there been enough! Can’t you stop now?”

  “This is just the beginning, maggot!” With that, the vessel of the professor was conducted to grab Elize, then with immense force he threw her through the ceiling, through the roof and into the sky. The speed kept her alive through the breaking of boards. She could see the approaching black hole as she fell back down to the infinite ground that was her coffin.

  Mr. Dystopia jumped to the ceiling, stared at his city gone to waste. He looked at the sky with distaste than towards the black hole. He then proceeded to dive head wards towards its depth. Before disappearing into the void, he reached out his hand.