Final Dawn: Season 1 (The Thrilling Post-Apocalyptic Series) (22 page)

Leonard McComb

3:00 PM, April 2, 2038

At precisely 3:00 PM, Leonard opened his eyes, raised his head and looked around. The Jeep was still idling away, but nothing was out of place. The fuel gauge had dropped ever so slightly, but not enough to worry him. Leonard cut the engine off for a few moments as he stepped out of the Jeep, stretching his legs and arms to get his blood flowing again.

Feeling rested and ready to go, Leonard hopped back in the Jeep and drove back on to the highway. As he headed south, he cast another glace to the north. Though he still saw nothing, just looking back at the general direction of the creature made him nervous. He accelerated the Jeep, moving as quickly as possible towards Richmond.

As he got closer to the city, it began to remind him of the scene in Baltimore, Washington and Fredericksburg. Every large and medium-sized city had been hit hard, and even the outskirts of Richmond hadn’t been spared. Burned out cars, foundations of houses and towers, and steel skeletons of buildings were all solemn reminders of the forces that had been unleashed on the world.

The increase in destruction also meant a decrease in speed, and the last few miles turned from a quick ride into a slow, agonizing descent into hell. Every few minutes, Leonard had to use the Jeep to push wreckage out of his way, get out and survey the area for a new path or try to just drive the Jeep over piles of wreckage. Thankfully there were still areas that had been either wiped clean or left mostly intact, in between the epicenters of bombs, and these gave Leonard brief – but appreciated – reprieves from the torturous path.

By nightfall, Leonard had officially reached the city limits for Richmond, ending up next to a cluster of hotels next to the highway. He sat on the road, trying to decide whether to rest for the night in the Jeep, or to make his way to one of the nearby hotels and see if they were intact enough to rest in. The area he was in looked reasonably untouched, but as little as half a mile could mean the difference between a building being intact and wiped off the face of the earth.

Leonard sighed. He was tired of sleeping in the cramped, uncomfortable seat of the Jeep, so he decided to try his luck in one of the hotels. It took the better part of an hour, but eventually he found himself in the parking lot of one of the larger hotels, The Richmond Prestige. The Prestige was one of the more upper-class chains on the eastern seaboard, with average room rates starting at $300/night for a single and $450/night for a queen. Leonard wasn’t of the financial background to stay at hotels like The Prestige, and he chuckled softly as he pulled up close to the entrance.
It took the end of the world to get me into one of these places. That just beats everything, doesn’t it?

He left the lights on in the Jeep as he walked inside, searching around for any signs of life. The area looked clear and the building looked safe and undamaged, so he backed the Jeep up to the main doors and offloaded his bags and a few packs of food, along with some water, too. With his headlamp mounted and on, he strode through the nearest corridor, searching for a room. Down the hall, all the doors were closed, and after trying a few handles and finding them all locked, Leonard sighed.

With the power out, he would have to resort to alternative methods of opening the door locks, so he dug through his shoulder bag. After a moment of searching, he pulled out an old, beaten up hand drill. A quick pull on the trigger showed that the battery was still in good condition. He placed the drill bit in the locking mechanism and fired it up, drilling it out in a matter of seconds. A swift kick to the door near the handle destroyed the rest of the lock and the door swung open, smashing into the wall behind it.

Leonard piled his stuff into the room, flopping down on the bed in exhaustion. He had planned to get a bite to eat before going to sleep, but the feeling of a soft bed beneath him completely derailed his plan. Just before falling asleep, Leonard told himself that he needed to wake up by 6 AM at the latest. Moments later, he was fast asleep, snoring away as he lay on his back in the middle of the bed.

Marcus Warden

3:32 PM, April 1, 2038

As Marcus neared the next exit into the city, the reality of the destruction hit home. So far, he had just seen the outer edge effects of the bombs, but this was closer to the center of destruction than he had been so far. The smoke grew thick, clogging his lungs and forcing him to pull over and wet his shirt with water. He pulled it up over his mouth, tying a small knot at the back to hold it secure. Ash swirled on the ground under the tires of his bike even at his slow speed as he weaved between the vehicles. After a mile or so, he found that he could go no farther on the bike and he dismounted, wheeling it alongside him as he walked in the center median of the interstate yet again.

From up close, the damage he had seen through the binoculars looked even more devastating, almost like a child had picked up blocks and strewn them across a room. Trees had been uprooted or simply turned to ash, with great swaths of the road ripped up and tossed hundreds of feet away. At the exit, the overpass had fared worse than the previous one and Marcus no longer had any choice but to cross on the highway below, if the shredded asphalt could even be called a “highway” any longer.

Though it took Marcus the better part of an hour, he made it across the divide and continued on past the opposite edge of the overpass. From here, the interstate made a sharp turn away from the city and Marcus could see how the road improved again off in the distance. Through his binoculars, he could see one last exit, marking the final link to the city before the long stretch to Richmond. This upcoming exit was far enough from the center of the city, though, that it looked like it might be intact. From this distance, it was hard to tell for sure, so Marcus continued on.

Two hours of climbing, crawling and – finally – riding later, Marcus reached the last exit into Charlottesville. Off in the distance, to the northwest, he could see the buildings and remains of buildings that marked the southern edge of the city, several miles from the epicenter of the destruction. Most of the buildings looked intact and he debated about getting off at the exit and making a detour to get more supplies. Though Marcus wasn’t low on food or water, prudence and caution were his constant bedfellows to help him get safely to Richmond.

Instead of making the decision immediately, Marcus decided to take a short break. He sat down in the passenger seat of a nearby car after leaning his bike up against the hood. Reaching into his backpack, he pulled out some water and a can of peaches and popped open the pull tab. The winds, thankfully, had picked up and were carrying the smoke and ash from the city perpendicular towards the south and he was finally able to stop using his shirt as a makeshift air filter. As Marcus ate, he kept a watchful eye out on both the interstate and the highway, still remaining vigilant for any other creatures that might come along.

The first sign that something wasn’t quite right came when Marcus noticed a tingling in his ears that refused to go away. He stepped out of the car and clambered onto the roof, peering around to find the source of the hum. It was low, deep and barely audible, but present nonetheless. As it slowly grew in intensity, Marcus finally recognized what it was and jumped off the car, crouching between the car’s body and door for cover. He threw his water bottle into his backpack and stuffed the last slice of peach into his mouth, then flung the backpack over his shoulders.

Cautiously and ever so slowly, Marcus raised his head above the door and looked around. He had a clear view both in front and behind him on the interstate and he saw no sign of any silver masses in either direction. To the north and south along the highway, though, his view was obstructed by the cars and overpass rails. He moved quickly to the northern side of the overpass, keeping as low as possible while moving. Ever so slowly, Marcus raised his head over the rail, looking north over the edge towards the city.

About half a mile to the north Marcus spotted the source of the noise. His racing heart skipped a beat and hair on the back of his neck and arms rose involuntarily. Instead of the mass of silvery smoke that he associated with the noise, he saw six figures moving south down the highway in pursuit of a seventh figure that was running ahead of them. Even without his binoculars, the smooth, swift movement of the six figures combined with small patches of silver on their bodies gave them away as creatures like the one he had encountered previously.

Rachel Walsh

11:56 PM, April 3, 2038

Rachel whirled, turning to find the source of the clatter behind her. In the dim light, the first thing she saw were patches of silver reflecting her flashlight beam. In a panic, she clicked the light to its highest setting, recoiling as she saw the creature that was standing in front of her, blocking the only exit out of the train car.

It was a large beast, weighing at least 300 pounds and towering nearly seven feet into the air. Most of its clothing had been torn from its body. It was covered from head to foot with traces of dried blood interspersed with patches of a silver metal that ran in and out of the skin. A buzzing accompanied the creature, quieter than the sounds that came with the silver masses, but unmistakably the same sound. Around the creature’s head a thin cloud of silver smoke curled, encircling it like some kind of demented halo.

Rachel made no sudden movements, trying to prolong the silence and stillness for as long as possible. Her eyes darted to each side of the train car, trying to find the best exit. Without warning, as she was evaluating her options, the creature let out a roar and lunged at her. It was only a few feet away and Rachel had no time to do anything except stare at it as it leaped in her direction. The creature’s aim was dead on and it plowed directly into her chest, sending her flying to the floor and skidding up against a stack of crates. The creature picked itself up off the ground and stared at Rachel, its eyes mere inches away from hers.

The silver metal in the creature’s eye sockets made it look alien and inhuman despite its clear human origins and form. As it looked at Rachel, she felt a cold chill run down her back. There was no soul or emotion in the creature’s face, only the singular purpose of wanting to kill her. The creature reared back, raising its fists to strike down on her. Rachel cried out as the beast’s hands impacted, smashing into the side of her head and the front of her chest. Pain shot through both areas, radiating through her neck and back as she felt the telltale signs of a broken rib.

Rachel struggled to loosen the rifle from her shoulder and bring it around to face the creature, but it was pinned under her at an awkward angle. She closed her eyes, bracing herself for the creature’s next blow and the pain it would bring. Suddenly, she heard another roar, this one different from the first. When she opened her eyes, she saw the creature flat on its face on the floor of the train car with Sam on its back. Sam snarled and barked as he clawed and bit at the creature that had been attacking his companion.

“Sam!” Rachel shouted in half surprise and half happiness at the sight of her pet. “Good boy! Get him!” The words came out coarsely and only half as loud as she intended as she struggled against the waves of pain that came with every breath she took. Within seconds, the creature was back up, throwing Sam off in a fit of rage. Silver smoke curled and roiled around its head as it charged at Rachel again, intent on finishing the job.

This time, though, Rachel was prepared. Having taken advantage of the momentary distraction offered by Sam, Rachel had managed to free her rifle. She was in an odd position, seated and half lying on the ground, but she shouldered the weapon as best as she could and squeezed the trigger. With each shot, a loud crack and a bright flash filled the small train car, temporarily blinding her. A roar of pain accompanied every shot, though, so she continued to aim in the same direction, putting round after round into the creature’s chest, stopping its advance. After thirty shots, the trigger clicked, but Rachel continued to squeeze it, not fully aware that the magazine had been emptied.

A few seconds passed and Rachel finally stopped and lowered the rifle, the sounds of the shots still ringing in her ears. The struggle had only lasted half a minute, but it felt like hours. Calm washed over the train car and Rachel realized that the creature was no longer advancing towards her. With a groan she reached for her flashlight, panning it in front of her to look for beast. A faint whine came from the far corner of the car and she turned the light towards it, revealing Sam limping slowly towards her and whining softly.

Rachel grabbed Sam when he got close and held him tightly to her chest, ignoring the searing pain. She spoke softly in his ear as he lay in her lap. “You sorry bastard… thank you.” Tears ran down Rachel’s face as the shock began to wear off. Sam pulled back, limping away from her. She followed him with the light, aiming it to where he sat and stared.

In front of Sam, just a few feet away, lay the body of the creature they had fought. There was no blood on the ground that she could see, despite the dozens of holes in the creature’s stomach and chest from the impact of her rifle rounds. Upon seeing that the creature was truly dead, Rachel leaned back and closed her eyes. She listened to the steady breathing of Sam and the slow, inexorable movement of the train as it continued its journey down the tracks. Rachel fought the pain, steeling herself to get up, preparing herself in case of another confrontation.

In the back of her mind, the nagging voice that she heard when she was looking through the train car came back in full force. The track repairs, the working train, the cars loaded with raw materials and even the creature guarding it all. Everything suddenly made sense as the pieces flew together in her mind. “We need to get out of here, boy.” Rachel coughed as she spoke, wincing at the pain. Though she was injured, Rachel had but one thought on her mind.
We’ve got to get back to the handcar before this train reaches it, otherwise we’ll really be up shit creek without a paddle.