Clio and Cy: The Apocalypse (17 page)

“Man is the only animal that can remain on friendly terms
with the victims he intends to eat
until he eats them.”

-Samuel Butler

The massive humanoid was squatting over the male lion and
went back to eating, deliciously enjoying the torn out liver when it caught a particular
scent again. Stopping, it sniffed the air as if it were a wolverine perched in
the middle of a giant, pristine blanket of fresh snow. After lifting its chin
up, the creature’s nostrils flared, getting a whiff of something special
drifting through the air molecules.
Fear…

The creature looked through the metal and glass of vehicles
that littered I-95 and saw them through a tiny sliver. Using powerful legs, it
rose up like a high reach, towering above the cars.

Dr. Pressfield and Cy were still squatting next to a
vehicle, hoping it wouldn’t notice them.

“It sees us Dr. Marcus.”

Dr. Pressfield didn’t answer and watched the monster slowly
move like the Grim Reaper toward them.

Cy scanned the surrounding vehicles to detect if one of them
was operable.
Nothing...
The young
cyborg jumped on top of the vehicle they were using for cover, landing on its
roof. His scanners downloaded information on each vehicle in milliseconds.

Registering it as an act of aggression, the creature
stopped, taken back by Cy’s leap to a higher vantage point. Like waving your
hands out and yelling at a grizzly bear in the wild, it worked. Nothing had
ever challenged the massive flesh eater before.

“There, Dr. Marcus,” Cy said pointing several vehicles
ahead. “The Range Rover! It’s still operational. Run to it when I tell you and
flip on its back up reserves when you get in,” Cy ordered.

Dr. Pressfield shook his head that he understood and kept
his eyes fixed on the creature.
Oh shit…
It
was looking right at them.

It began moving forward on its hind legs, inspecting Cy and
smelling the fear wafting out of Dr. Pressfield’s every pore. The smell
emboldened the monster and it moved in at a quicker pace. It passed the Range
Rover that Marcus so desperately wanted to climb inside. The creature stopped
and crouched, waiting ten cars up from where they stood.

I wonder if the door
is locked
, Dr. Pressfield pondered.

Cy jumped off the car and stood in front of Marcus.
Continuing to keep the foul smelling thing in his sights, Cy spoke to Dr.
Pressfield. “I’ll hold it off so you can make it to the Range Rover Dr.
Marcus.”

“Cy… I’m…” Dr. Pressfield didn’t know what he was trying to
say. He was shaking so badly he wasn’t sure he could even move. “I’m thinking
of just pissing myself instead, Cy.”

“You have to run Dr. Marcus. Don’t worry, everything will be
ok,” Cy confirmed.

Marcus looked at the back of Cy’s head, both keeping a lock
on the humanoid.

The creature moved forward again and slowed twenty yards
away from their position, and then stopped. Cars and trucks surrounded all
three beings. All three different, yet still connected, sharing the ancestry of
cells that traveled billions of years to arrive, alive, at this moment inside
them.

Vehicles wore burn marks from Ker blasts while others were
riddled with holes. Some had broken glass through which the drivers were shot.

The Range Rover was in perfect order and nothing was broken
or missing.
Hope the backup power works
,
Marcus thought.

“Ssshhhhaaa!” the creature hissed and coiled low.

“Get ready Dr. Marcus,” Cy ordered.

The monster went down on all fours and waited, hunching. Its
chest was moving in and out like an industrial furnace bladder, locking eyes
with Dr. Pressfield. Marcus knew the thing was smart. It wasn’t bypassing Cy
and choosing to gaze at him for any old reason. The nasty thing was letting him
know that it smelled his weakness. The demon smelled his fear. It was letting
Marcus know that he was going to be eaten in a few short seconds.

Distracting it, Cy waved his arms and the creature focused
on the cyborg.

Dr. Pressfield could feel the wicked energy vibrating off
the humanoid while it stayed
coiled. Full of
teeth and claws, the beast looked like a rocket made of flesh and sinew. Lift
off… The monster dug its paws like a track star and sprang forward.

Marcus watched it gain on them in the suspension of liquid
time, frozen. Barreling like a runaway comet intended on crashing earth, it was
within feet of them. Marcus firmly put his back to a vehicle and pushed against
it as if he were trying to slide if off the road.

The creature launched at them and reached out, intending on
moving the cyborg to the side so it could eat the fear covered treat. Cy
grabbed the creature’s wrists at thirty frames per second, leaving trails off his
movements through the air. Flying and tumbling out of control, the creature and
Cy both zoomed by Dr. Pressfield. He watched overcome with terror and almost
wet himself, still pressed against the vehicle. The beast wanted to grab Marcus
but Cy’s grip prevented the demon from clutching his creator.

Kicking fear’s ass, or fueled by it, Marcus broke from his
terror and ran. His eyes filled with tears from the putrid smell of the
colossal humanoid. Hearing them struggle behind, he sprinted forward and worried
about Cy with each step. He feared for his young cyborg’s life between each
stride, not daring to look back yet, fearing for his own self, too. Dr.
Pressfield fell down just before he reached the Range Rover. He stumbled back
to his feet with wind knocked out of him, gasping in pain. Sucking like a
croaker on the shore, he turned back to see his cyborg while his mouth tried to
draw in air to no avail.

“Get in the vehicle Dr. Marcus!” Cy shouted.

Dr. Pressfield wrapped his fingers around the door handle
and watched Cy chasing behind the monster.
Uh
oh!

The beast had already broken free of Cy’s grip and was
heading for the scientist. Marcus’s lungs came back slowly, as if tiny holes were
punched through invisible clear plastic that covered his face. Death was coming
for him and carrying with it a distinct sound, Marcus could hear the beastly
breaths as the monster barreled closer.
 

Cy pursued the fang-toothed locomotive, hot on its tail.
Like a runaway, the horrible thing had no choice in where it was going,
instinctively pulled toward Dr. Marcus Pressfield.

Marcus flung the door open and let things inside the Range
Rover breath for the first time in seven years, thankful that it was unlocked…
A pile of sun faded clothes mixed with dried bones piled on the driver’s seat.
Leather blended with the staleness of the dead remains, smelling it after he
stuck his head in. Marcus frantically scooped the people left overs into the
highway and flung the jeans and shirt out after. Still fighting for breath, he
climbed up and tasted the air particles that drifted in his mouth. “Click.” Dr.
Pressfield locked the doors.

The smell of the vehicle filled his nose while he leaned
forward and flipped the auxiliary power switch. “Ahh!” startled, Marcus
screamed and jerked. German Techno music scared the shit out of him after it
blared from the speakers, as he fumbled to turn it off.
Jesus that crap was loud
… With an unsteady hand, he reached to push
the ignition button. “Wham!” The vehicle jerked hard, sending debris hurling
and terrifying the monkey piss out of Dr. Pressfield.

The monster crashed into the back of the Range Rover,
sending Marcus’s head on a whip lash ride. The vehicle powered down as if someone
twisted a light switch dimmer. Dr. Pressfield continued pressing the ignition
button but it wouldn’t start. “Why the hell won’t this thing start!” he shouted
pressing the button over and over. “Come on! Start! Start damn you!”

Cy mounted the woozy creature that lay on the ground below
the massive U shaped dent in the SUV’s body. The cyborg rained down shots to
the humanoid’s skull while it fought for consciousness under the barrage of
Gatling gun like punches.

The demon creature threw Cy forward after it tasted enough
blows, sending the cyborg flying like a rabid house cat. Cy smashed into the
grill of the car directly behind the Range Rover, leaving an equally impressive
dent. Wanting to grab Cy and remove this pesky annoyance once and for all, the beast
reached out and lunged forward. Cy grabbed the monster’s wrists and held on
while the beast attempted to break free. Lift off!

The creature launched the cyborg over the Range Rover
sending him airborne. After sailing high, Cy descended toward the vehicle and
spiking down hard.

Touchdown… “Crash!”

“Cy!” Dr. Pressfield yelled as he watched a flash land on
the hood, realizing it was his friend.

“Don’t worry Dr. Marcus. It’s going to be ok,” Cy spoke
while gazing through the front windshield.

Dr. Pressfield realized why the vehicle wouldn’t start after
looking out the driver’s side window. The key was on the ground next to the
bones, too far away for the ignition to pick up its signal. Debris from the
fight must have knocked it out of range. No way was he getting out with that
thing out there, which at the moment, he couldn’t see. Cy climbed off the hood…

Suddenly, the demon appeared. It was at the driver’s side
window, squatting down so it could get eye level with Dr. Pressfield.
“Ssshhhhaaa!” it hissed and looked into Dr. Pressfield’s eyes, and then tilted
its head toward the sun making strange ticking sounds.

The creature’s gaze descended down and stared inside at
Marcus, as it pulled the door handle.

Amazing, as it was, the realization the monster knew enough
to operate the door handle was put on the back burner. Marcus Pressfield leaned
into the passenger seat to get the fuck away from the evil thing.
I need to signal for Cy to pick up the key
.
Startled, Marcus jumped after a streaking blur caught him off guard and flashed
by.

“Jesus!” Marcus’s thought about the key was interrupted by
his cyborg slamming into the side of the monster like a linebacker. They both
disappeared from sight.

Marcus looked in the rear view mirror and watched Cy drag
the creature by one of its ankles between the rows of cars.

“Grab the key Dr. Marcus,” Cy instructed.

He doesn’t miss a
thing,
Dr. Pressfield thought looking in the side mirror, watching Cy drag
the creature farther away.

Slowing their progress, the demon clawed against the cars.
Cy dragged the rancid smelling thing a good fifty yards before it dug its
people shredders into a tire.

Marcus hit the locks and jumped out, running on rubber legs
toward the key. After picking it up, he noticed the creature had broken free of
Cy’s grip and was heading for him.
Jesus
Christ this thing wants to kill me! Hate this fucking thing!

“Screw this!” Dr. Pressfield said as he jumped in and hit
the locks while simultaneously pushing the ignition. “Vrrrooom… vroom, vroom…”
the motor came to life, delaying for a moment, sputtering, then responding with
a roar as Marcus pushed his foot against the gas pedal.

Cy chased from behind and tackled the creature low, causing
it to face plant between the cars. Dr. Pressfield shouted inside the car while
still watching in the side mirror.

“Come on Cy! Run!” he screamed, seeing his cyborg leap over
the creature in a blinding sprint toward the SUV. Stabilizing itself back
together, the monster was quickly in pursuit. Motoring like a run-away freight
train, it stayed on all fours and raced toward the vehicle, digging out chips
of concrete with its claws.

“Click.” Dr. Pressfield unlocked the doors and Cy planted
next to the passenger door before jumping in. “Click.” Doors locked.

The monster tried to slow itself coming alongside the SUV,
sliding and clawing at the doors with the piercing sound of its nails scraping
off the metal. It tumbled out in front the vehicle and Marcus released the
emergency brake before putting it in drive.

The creature stood up and hissed toward the sky. As if the
monster was going to attack the truck and take it head on, it leaned back and
spread its arms wide and set.

“Hold on Cy!” Pressfield shouted, pressing the gas pedal to
the floor.

Marcus noticed, what he thought anyway, a bit of
bewilderment on the monster’s face. Right before the Range Rover slammed into
the creature, Dr. Pressfield could swear he saw the unmistakable look of
surprise emit off the beast’s reflective eyeballs.
That’s right; you should have got the fuck out of the way!
Marcus
thought, gripping the steering wheel and tromping the gas.

The SUV crashed into the creature’s body, dragging it while
he kept it floored. “That’s right you son of a bitch!” Marcus shouted and gunned
the throttle. Cy looked over like he was watching his dad do something insane,
yet fun.

Marcus rammed another vehicle, pinning the monster between
car and truck. “Crash!” The Range Rover jolted off the ground, exploding gel
foam inside its cockpit.

“He turned to look just in time to see the rain start falling
out as if the storm had finally decided to weep with shame for what it had done
to them.”

― James Dashner

RMB Pendleton:

The sky darkened as if the cosmos suddenly enveloped the
earth. Shadows swallowed the light and forced the plummeting gray of a false,
early dusk. Jagged bolts of lightning shot down amidst the sounds of distant
thunder, cracking loud.

With the door open behind him, Petty Officer Deines stood
outside on the front step of his new home. His team was sleeping in their racks
and dreaming of a storm. The leading edges of the hurricane’s wind crept inside
the barracks like invisible reconnaissance probes searching for the enemy. Stirring
over their warm snoring breath, the air molecules scouted and spied before
going down, invading inside SEAL throats. One of the men adjusted in his bunk,
unconsciously feeling the temperature drop and cool over his skin.

Remaining outside, Deines leaned back and shut the door just
as raindrops began reaching all things exposed. Their gentle sounds splashing
against the dry ground somehow seemed to wash away the storm’s threatening
nature. Wondering if any of them were alive, he thought about his family.

The Navy SEAL wished the rain would fall harder and scrub
his memory clean. He wanted the water to fall like mortars and carry away all
the bad things he was holding inside, far away and out of sight forever with
the mounting winds. At the moment, amnesia seemed like a beautiful idea. It was
all a pipe dream, he could never forget those that were lost, or those he
speculated may be gone.

The elite men of the world aren’t impervious to pain and
suffering as some might think. He knew that all too well. The strength of his
boundary to fight off mental anguish fell short of his fortitude to endure
physical pain. A few years into the war, Gary Deines admitted that fact.
Memories of the countless dead haunted his thoughts. Polarized, he was hard on
the outside and soft inside, feeling vulnerable and weak in certain moments.
This war had raged for far too long.

How do you defeat a warrior’s spirit?
Feed him nothing but war
, Deines heard someone say once.
Maybe I read it?
he thought.

Warriors need to give love as much as they need to be loved.
Elite men that have served throughout history have always needed humor, song,
and the whimsical entertainments of those not like them. Just like the poet
needs to be more like the warrior, the elite must be provided certain things
not innate to them. Like the big meal that reassures soldiers before battle,
the court jester nourishes their soul.

Just as laughter strengthens him, love of those worth
fighting for also lends him the power to stare death in the face and risk it all.
For those they love, for the protection of the greater good, for the things
mysteriously contained in the hearts of poets, of clowns and story tellers,
those things that are so far from who they could ever be – warriors, for that
cause, have always greeted death without an ounce of regret.

Everything in the universe strives for balance, whether it
realizes it or not. Petty Officer Deines was hard pressed to find anyone left
alive that was,
balanced.
For the
handful of Navy SEALs now occupying the old 1
^st
Recon Battalion
berthing quarters, court jesters and entertainers were in short supply. Humor
and all things soft and wonderful were needed now more than ever. And now,
Petty Officer Deines had more to bear.

There’s not a Navy SEAL alive who isn’t self-sufficient but
they came to him for this and that. His men needed him. Deines was in charge
now and it was to be expected. But knowing something in your head is usually
far different than experiencing it firsthand. It was just a bit more weight
piled on top of the ton he already carried.

For Petty Officer Deines, the role of Commanding Officer was
like that last box someone lobs on top of an already high stack, as you walk to
wherever you’re going. Now blind, thanks to the jackass that put it there, in
his case he carried the tonnage the Ker bestowed upon him. They all carried it,
the SEALs, the Marines, each man and woman still left – they wandered under the
burden, blindly wondering what the future held. Thrown into it with little
experience, he’d have to fake his way through being an interim Commanding
Officer. He could handle it,
I got it
,
he thought.
No choice, I have to…

The rain stalled to a trickle and lifted his face skyward,
feeling fat drops fade to tiny sprinkles, tickling lightly against his skin.
Deines smelled the ocean as a strong wind blew in from the west and swayed his
body. Air drifted through the RMB. Mother Nature calmed.
It won’t last he thought
, looking up into the stygian sky with
misty specs landing on his exposed eyeballs.
It’s going to open up again
, he thought, looking down and swirling
his aching foot.

He took off walking in a brisk trot toward the base gym. The
Petty Officer wasn’t sure why he was walking with such intent, which made him
stop out in the open to think…

Illuminating the sky, lightning appeared and blazed down on
the other side of a nearby building. “Boom!” thunder followed and he witnessed
several bolts zip down in silence, and then erupt under cloud-covered
explosion.

“Crack! Crack!” electrified the air in delayed succession as
another group of bolts shot down. His hair was charged and he took off jogging
as if running in a full sprint was too wussy.

“Crack! Crack!” more lightning bolts lit the sky and
scorched the earth a few miles away, feeling much closer. He picked up the pace
while glancing overhead, seeing more lightning bolts and feeling the energy.
They appeared to retreat into the heavens, back toward Zeus’s hand
.
Not shy about wanting to get inside,
he made it to the entrance of the base gym like a pussy.

Lance Cpl. Jimmy Woolridge was training inside the gym. The
sounds of the gods didn’t affect his work out as he went from station to
station. Noticing the SEAL open the gym’s front door, the Marine continued his
strength building, focused.

Deines glanced back at the ever-falling, ever-darkening sky
and watched it pull the sopping clouds closer to earth. It started pouring.
Knew it was going to rain again
, he
thought and wiped his muddy boots off on a coarse welcome mat.

He vaguely remembered the face of the Marine that was
working out in the distance. Observing the youngster train, Petty Officer
Deines enjoyed the thought of meeting someone new. As nutty as they were, the
thought of meeting the Marine’s gave his soul some much-needed hope.

 
Breathing heavy,
Lance Cpl. Woolridge dropped down from the dip bar with his hands still resting
on the steel tubes. He looked up and noticed Deines standing across from him.

“Good workout?” Petty Officer Deines asked.

“Yeah,” Jimmy answered. His heavy breathing was only audible
to the men inside gym. They were the only two.

“Always good to stay in shape,” Deines stated… feeling a bit
dorky for saying it. The kid was a Marine; he knew working out was important.

“The stronger I am, the better I am… the more of those
bastards I can kill…” Woolridge responded.

Deines felt the energy that poured out of Lance Cpl.
Wooldridge’s words. It was anger. He saw it in his eyes. Petty Officer Deines
sensed something else, revenge; it was hanging in the air. Sharp and deadly,
like the lightning bolts filling the sky above them, the emotion was equally as
scorching. Easy to recognize something so powerful when you have similar
emotions.

“I wanted to say thank you,” Petty Officer Deines announced.
He intended on thanking every Marine who flew on the rescue mission. They’d
saved his life and the lives of the only family he had left.

Thanking them… It was a worthy goal. As important as love
and laughter are to a Navy SEAL, to any man, so is reaching each new
mountaintop, no matter how small, or how high. Goals were still vital for
feeling alive, more so in their pursuit than achieving them.
Might as well be dead if there is nothing to
shoot for…

“I don’t deserve your thanks,” Jimmy said as he jumped back
up on the dip bar and held his body up with strength, preparing to go down.

“Sure you do,” Deines responded.

The Marine continued pumping. “I was scared shitless if you
want to know the truth,” Jimmy puffed out and his body went down and up. “Shitless,”
he said, pausing after locking out at the top of a rep.

“There’d be something wrong with any man, in my opinion, who
isn’t scared when going into battle. Fear isn’t a bad thing. It’s kept me alive
more than once…” Petty Officer Deines said, hoping his tidbit of wisdom sunk
into the Marine.

“Ten. Eleven. Twelve,” Jimmy hissed through pursed lips as
he jumped off the rack. “I wasn’t scared the whole time,” he said after landing
on his feet.

“Good,” Petty Officer Deines responded, wondering where the
kid was going with the conversation.

“You know something?” Jimmy asked.

“What’s that?”

“That’s when I almost got killed…”

“When?”

“When I wasn’t scared,” Jimmy said in a revelation.

“Oh,” Deines said, appearing to agree with the Marine as he
shook his head up and down while not knowing exactly what he was agreeing with.

“Was out in the open and going at one of those
sons-a-bitches and things almost, well, they almost got ugly for me,” Jimmy
preached.

“That was you!” Deines shouted.

“I guess,” Jimmy said, figuring the SEAL was referring to
his John Wayne impersonation.

“You’re the fucker who went out with guns blazing and wasted
that Ker in open ground?”

“Yeah…” Jimmy answered with a crooked smile.

“Ballsy kid… That was a hell of a thing to watch…”

“Yeah, guess I lost it out there,” Lance Cpl. Woolridge
said, thinking about his brother in that moment.

“Who was it,” Deines asked.

Somehow Jimmy Woolridge knew what the SEAL meant. He knew
that Deines was asking whose memory he was trying to avenge.

“My brother…” he answered.