Final Dawn: Season 1 (The Thrilling Post-Apocalyptic Series) (12 page)

5:39 PM, March 30, 2038

Rachel Walsh

When the silver mass attacked Waters and Roche, Rachel closed her eyes and lowered her head, covering her ears from Russell’s high-pitched screaming next to her. She tried to block out the sights and sounds, but the shredding, ripping and screaming was too much for her.

When Rachel was home on weekends off and during brief vacations, her family usually relaxed by sitting at home, watching movies, eating lots of food and catching up on one other’s lives for the previous few months that she was away. One of her fondest memories was making smoothies with her daughter. Normally she and Julie were at odds with each another, but cooking was the one time when they set their differences aside and were able to function well as mother and daughter.

Ever since Julie had been a little girl she had loved smoothies, and she always begged Rachel to let her push the button on the blender after it was loaded full of fruit and ice. Julie giggled when the blades whirred, crushing the fruit and ice together into a pulpy mess, delighted in seeing the whole fruit turned into a delicious drink.

As Rachel thought back to the time with her daughter, Russell’s screams changed in pitch and she felt his hand grab her, pulling on her as he shouted. “For God’s sake, help me! Help me!” Russell’s hand was like iron on Rachel’s arm, his nails tearing through her clothing as he clawed at her, desperate to escape the torture being inflicted upon him.

Rachel scrambled for the door handle as she glanced over at him. Russell’s face was frozen in agony as the silvery swarm completely enveloped his body. It moved like living smoke, passing through his mouth and nose to enter his body, then exiting again in thin wisps around the edges of his eyes. Holes appeared in his clothing and flesh seemingly out of nowhere as the mass swirled around and through him, turning the man into a pile of rapidly disappearing flesh on the seat of the Humvee.

Rachel’s memories of making smoothies with her daughter flashed in front of her again, causing her to gag as nausea swirled in her stomach. A loud buzzing permeated the air, changing in pitch every time a new hole appeared in Russell. The buzzing gradually replaced Russell’s screaming, which stopped shortly after it started, once his lungs and vocal cords had been disintegrated.

Rachel finally got the door open and stumbled out, running to the side of the road where she cowered behind an overturned car. In the span of no more than thirty seconds, the three men had completely vanished, leaving nothing but tattered pieces of clothing and a few remnants of blood and skin on the ground and inside the Humvee. 

“Sam! Here, boy!” Rachel shouted, her voice cracking as she fought against the nausea and revulsion of what she had just witnessed.

Sam leapt over the back seat of the Humvee and out the back door, running towards Rachel, the swarm parting neatly around him as he ran towards her. Having finished its job, the swarm slowly returned to its previous form, hovering a few inches above the ground next to the Humvee as it pulsated and turned.

Once fully re-formed, the mass shifted, seeming to stare at Rachel, though it had no eyes or face with which to watch her.

“Fuck you, assholes!” she screamed at the mass. “I know you can understand me, so fuck you!”

The silvery mass did not react to her verbal abuse, seeming content to merely hold its ground next to the Humvee, studying her. Though it felt like hours, it was only a moment or two before the mass began to move again, away from Rachel. It buzzed away noisily, continuing down the highway in the direction it had been going, eerily reminiscent of the first mass that she had seen near her home.

Rachel collapsed back onto the ground, shivering as she lay still, pulling Sam tightly against her chest and shuddering uncontrollably.
What have I done?

4:17 AM, March 30, 2038

Marcus Warden

Marcus found himself standing back on the hill where he first spotted the creature. Though he recognized that he was in a dream this time, he didn’t wake up. Instead he was repeating the same actions again: lying down on the ground, viewing the creature through the binoculars and watching as it turned to look at him. Rather than running towards him, though, the creature simply vanished into thin air after it looked at Marcus. He stood up, confused, searching the distant fields, wondering where it went.

A soft breath came from behind him, like the gentle snort of a horse, and he felt a warm breath across his neck, making the hairs on the back of his head stand upright. Marcus lowered the binoculars slowly, fearing to turn around, forgetting that this was all just a dream. He slowly reached for his machete, pulling it out of the scabbard and gripped it tightly in his hand.

With a shout, he whirled around, swinging the machete as hard as he could, caught off balance as it whipped through empty air. There was nothing behind him. Marcus began to panic, feeling sweat trickle down his face as his heart began to race faster, his body no longer fully under his control.

A second breath came from behind him again. This time he twisted around immediately upon feeling it, slicing upward with the machete as he fell backwards, losing his balance in the intensity of the turn. Again, there was nothing. Marcus laughed nervously. “This is all just a dream! Come on out and show yourself! I know you can’t hurt me!”

A third breath swept the back of Marcus’s neck. This time he turned slowly, machete lowered, and stared into the face of the creature. Eyes sunken, face bloodied and expressionless it stood before him, no more than a foot away. Marcus swallowed deeply, fighting back the urge to run and considering whether or not he could get away with stabbing the creature.

They stood for a moment, looking at each other, their eyes locked. “Who are you,” Marcus whispered, “and what do you want?”

The creature said nothing, then after a moment, the mouth began to open. As the thin white lips cracked open, Marcus could see that it still had teeth and a tongue that looked normal enough. Though the creature did not speak, Marcus could hear its breath more clearly now, deep and raspy as it breathed in and out through its mouth. There was a faint hint of decay and rot on the creature’s breath, and he wrinkled his nose, turning his head ever so slightly to the side.

This slight motion had immediate results, as the creature opened its mouth impossibly wide, twice as wide as a human could. With a choking sound and a slight hiss, a thin trail of smoke rose from the creature’s mouth as it tilted its head back, expelling the silvery fumes into the air. Marcus recoiled as the silver smoke began to take shake in front of the creature, resembling the swarm that had attacked him in the bus.

The creature’s mouth snapped shut and its head came back down, leveling its gaze on Marcus as the smoke trail finished forming into a shape in front of it. The mass buzzed softly, shimmering in the afternoon sun, swaying lightly in the breeze. It was as tall as he and the creature, and roughly as wide. Marcus continued to back away from the mass, debating whether or not to run. He had completely forgotten that this was a dream, his mind fixated on only one thing: survival.

As his left foot went back, Marcus felt empty air behind him and he twisted as he fell, tumbling down the hill. He rolled several feet and came to a stop, looking back up at the creature and the silvery mass. The mass began to buzz more, advancing towards him, with the creature stalking behind it, walking with a curious gait, unlike one he had ever seen before.

The speed of the silver mass increased as it floated down the hill towards him, creature in tow behind it. The sound of the buzzing grew as it picked up speed and widened into a sheet, closing off any hope of escape. The last thing Marcus heard as he woke up was, oddly enough, the slow, steady breathing of the creature behind the mass.

When Marcus woke up, he thought he was still dreaming. Marcus’s heart skipped a beat as he realized that he was no longer flat on his back on the hill, but flat on his back in the recess in the dark cavern, but the slow, raspy breathing of the creature was still echoing in his ears.

7:18 AM, March 31, 2038

Nancy Sims

Rough hands slapped Nancy’s face as she regained consciousness, groaning in pain. Her head swirled and pounded, and the scent of sweat and dirt filled the air as she gasped. The slapping stopped when she groaned a second time.

The man who called himself Joshua spoke. “Excellent. She’s awake. What about the man?”

A second voice, Richard, came from somewhere else. “Still out.”

“Leave him. He’s still breathing. He’ll wake up soon enough. Come, let’s get prepared.”

A cackle came from the room at this, and Nancy heard footsteps walking away from her, followed by the slam of a door. She shook her head and felt her body twist in response, suddenly realizing that she was hanging in midair, her body twisting around a rope bound to her hands.

“Help!” Nancy called hoarsely, coughing. She felt weak and tired, her throat was dry and a headache the size of Texas was rapidly building in the back of her head, wrapping around to the front. She still couldn’t see anything, but when she moved her head, she felt the coarseness of the potato sack still bound around her head.

“Don’t bother calling for help. We’re in a basement of some kind, and besides, there’s nobody but those two assholes around anyway.”

Nancy turned her head in the direction of the voice, searching for its origin. “How do you know?” she whispered, choking the words out in between coughs.

The voice that answered back was smooth and cultured, though different than that of Joshua’s voice. This voice was calm, without the undertones of tension and rage that she detected when Joshua spoke. “They got me, too, Ms. …”

“Sims. Nancy Sims.”

“I wish I could say it’s nice to meet you, but under the circumstances… well, you know. Anyway, I’m James Dailey.”

Nancy tried to smile, but the pain in her arms and head combined with the situation made it impossible.

“Don’t struggle, you’ll only make it worse. Believe me, I’ve been trying for the last hour whenever those maniacs have been out of the room, and I’ve yet to make any progress.”

Nancy coughed again, letting herself to limp on the rope. “Who are they?” She could hear the smirk in James’ face.

“Convicts. Brothers, to be more precise. I heard them talking about their escape while they thought I was knocked out on the way here. They escaped a few days ago after… well, whatever it was that happened. I guess they’ve been running the roads looking for trouble.”

“And here I thought I was being helpful, stopping on the road.”

James chuckled softly. “You and me both, Nancy. They must have gotten you the same way they got me.”

There was silence in the room for a few moments. The ropes that held them aloft creaked softly as they swayed gently back and forth.

“Do you think they’re going to–” Nancy started, then stopped, finishing her sentence in her head, not wanting to speak the words out loud.

After a long pause, James responded. His voice was quiet and muted, with a touch of hopelessness.

“Probably so.”

2:12 PM, March 28, 2038

Leonard McComb

Leonard glanced back at the school, saying a silent thank you. After loading up his new backpack with food and as many sports drinks as he could fit, he took a quick nap in the cafeteria, then woke up later in the day and headed out to the parkway to continue the journey. He felt especially burdened by the amount of food and water he was carrying, but he wasn’t sure what he would encounter up ahead.
Better to have it and not need it, after all.

The parkway was covered with vehicles, some of them intact, but most were overturned or wrecked, forming periodic piles of cars that had run into each other. Like the cars that Leonard saw in the urban areas after landing at the beach, all of these vehicles were devoid of people. Some showed signs of people having been injured, but he still wasn’t able to find a body anywhere he looked.

After miles of walking, the sun began to go down and Leonard paused to rest at a clear spot in the parkway. Between two particularly large pileups, there were several vehicles that were less damaged. One in particular caught his eye, and he flipped on his headlamp as he walked over to look at it. It was ancient-looking, and he struggled to remember what year it could have come from. The faded plate on the side of it read “JEEP” and the top of the vehicle had no cover, only a metal structure that would protect the occupants inside.

The Jeep had rear-ended the car in front of it, but it was still in good condition, suffering only minor dents to the front and rear from low-speed impact collisions.
They must have been trying to get on the offramp, or hit a patch of traffic and slowed down,
Leonard thought as he opened the driver’s side door. The interior of the Jeep was immaculate and barren, with almost no amenities to speak of. It was a manual transmission with no air conditioning, power seats, or power windows and there wasn’t even a radio.

Leonard had tried to start many of the vehicles he found, but all of them had failed to start. After the first few cars he found that were in that condition, he figured that it was due to the EMP disabling the computer electronics in the cars, so he had given up on finding one that would work. The Jeep, though, seemed different. It was the oldest car he had seen on the road in a very long time, and it was in good enough condition that he was sure the owner was a collector who happened to be out on a pleasure drive when the bombs fell. It was raised off the ground on four beefy tires, the treads of which were a few inches deep, perfect for off-road travel. The front of the Jeep had a snorkel attached as well, indicating that it was equipped for traveling through high waters, and the front of the Jeep had a winch attached, too.

Leonard opened the door to the Jeep and paused, his hand hovering over the key, daring himself to try turning it and hoping against hope that it would work.
It might be old enough… maybe.
There was only one way to find out. Leonard closed his eyes, grasped the key and turned it forward. For a split second, nothing happened, and he felt disappointment begin to wash over him. Then, with a sputter, the car roared to life, the cylinders filling with fuel-enriched oxygen and firing without a single misstep.

Leonard let out a loud shout and danced around the car, slapping it on the hood. “Yes!” he shouted, then ran to the back of the Jeep and opened the hatch, depositing his food and water supplies in the back. He grabbed one of the bottles of water and a bag of chips and went back to the driver’s seat, closing the door and grinning widely as he took the steering wheel in his hands.

As Leonard began to pull the Jeep forward, he stopped and looked out at the sky. The sun was almost completely out of sight, and although the headlights of the Jeep still worked, he realized that it would be foolhardy to try and get it untangled from the mess of cars until it was light again. Leonard sighed and turned the key back, cutting the engine off. He stuck the key into his pocket and leaned back in the seat, tilting it back until it was nearly horizontal.

With the roof of the Jeep not installed, he stared up into the sky, feeling a sense of true happiness wash over him for the first time since the collapse in the sewers. Though it had only been a couple of days since then, it felt like years. The emotional toll it had taken on him and the memories it brought up had been painful, but after having the entire world – quite literally – torn apart, things were finally starting to look up. He had food, water and transportation, so he would finally be able to make his way down the coast to the only home he had left.