Final Dawn: Season 1 (The Thrilling Post-Apocalyptic Series) (27 page)

Marcus Warden | Nancy Sims

6:49 PM, April 3, 2038

After losing sight of the creatures in the distance, Nancy slowed the truck down to a safer speed, but still kept it going at a respectable clip. In the back, Marcus had practically melded into the floor of the truck bed, keeping a tight grip on his backpack and trying to prevent himself from being bounced out onto the road. He glanced to the machete that was tied to the side of the backpack, wondering yet again whether or not he would need to use it against the woman who was driving the truck. While the woman had been very jumpy at first, she had been nice enough to let him get into the truck, so she couldn’t be all that bad.

Pushing himself up into a sitting position, Marcus knocked on the back window again, taking advantage of the lower speed and slightly quieter conditions to try and talk to the woman.

“Hey, look, I just wanted to say thanks for letting me on. Those things would have torn me up if you’d left me… so yeah, thanks.”

Nancy glanced back at him in the rearview window and nodded in response. Another moment passed, then she spoke.

“What’s your name?”

“Marcus Warden.” He continued unprompted. “I’ve been trying to get to Richmond for days now, to see if my family is still alive or not.”

Nancy nodded again. “I’m Nancy. You said you were heading to Richmond, right? That’s where I’m headed, too. A… friend of mine said that there might be a military base or something there.”

Marcus perked up at this remark. A military base inside the city could mean fantastic news.
Hell, maybe enough people survived that they set up a base there to start rescue efforts!
Marcus leaned in closer, starting to put his head through the window to speak to her some more, but pulled back when Nancy brandished the tire iron, holding it firmly in one hand as she spoke.

“Just stay back, please. I still don’t know who you are. I don’t want to hurt you, but I just don’t know you at all.”

Marcus nodded, grimacing at the dried blood that covered the end of the tire iron. “Looks like that thing’s been used before.” He reached one hand down to his backpack, brushing his fingers over the handle of the machete.
Great, so she really is crazy.

Nancy lowered the tire iron, her ashamed reflection showing in the mirror. Nancy still wasn’t sure about this newcomer, but he had done nothing to earn her distrust, despite everything James had said. The unwitting kindness of strangers had saved her from the very start of this nightmare, and she was determined to not let Joshua and Richard rob her of her humanity. This man, whoever he was, had still posed no danger to her despite the dozens of opportunities he had since she stopped on the side of the road.

“I’m sorry, Marcus.” Nancy dropped the tire iron on the seat next to her, just barely within arm’s reach. “Some… things happened a couple days ago. I stopped to pick someone up on the road just like you. They ended up killing my friend and almost killing me, too.”

Marcus dropped his hand from the machete handle and moved a few inches further away from the window to give Nancy some space.
Shit, no wonder she’s so jumpy.

“It’s okay, I get it. Look, if it makes you feel better, I’ll just sit back down and be quiet, and you can drop me off somewhere inside Richmond when we get there.”

Nancy considered this option, weighing the risks. Marcus was only the fifth person she had seen still alive after waking up in Kansas, and the other four were now long dead. “I don’t know yet. I’m sorry… I need to think about it. Why don’t you try to get some sleep; you look exhausted.”

Marcus laughed at this, imagining what he must look like after days without showering and barely sleeping. He turned around from the window and slid back down into the bed of the truck, one hand still on his backpack.

In the darkness, the world around them had changed once again. The sun had long since set and the orange rays were gone, plunging the world into shadows that were punctuated only by the occasional hint of moonlight that broke through the thick cloud cover and the headlights that streamed through the darkness ahead of them. Looming shapes zipped by the truck and pieces of metal and glass were kicked up by the tires, spinning off into the night. There was still no sign of the creatures, even with the help of a flashlight, but Marcus still didn’t feel all that safe. If the creatures had followed him – or even Nancy – for this far, they were tenacious enough to keep following for much farther than the truck could take them.
And then what do we do?
 

Marcus had so many questions for this new stranger, and was sure she had many for him as well. He wanted so badly to speak to her now, to get answers to his questions in exchange for ones of her own, but he didn’t want to risk spooking her any further. Nancy’s tattered clothing, grimy hair, and bruised arms and legs all told him of her physical toils. It was her cold, sad eyes, though, that told him the truth. She had been through so much more than she was letting on, and looked like she was barely holding herself together.

Later. Questions can come later.

Leonard McComb

5:19 AM, April 4, 2038

The dawn’s glow brought warmth to the city’s remains, though it was a stale, shallow exoskeleton of the warmth and life that had reverberated through the city mere weeks earlier. Flames crackled and smoke still rose from the ruins here, as it did across the country and the world, filling the skies with a dark covering that bubbled and roiled, blowing along in the powerful winds that kicked up out of nowhere and died just as fast.

Sunlight reflecting off the windshield initially woke Leonard, though the shock of realizing that he had been sleeping completed the process. He looked around in panic, certain that he was going to see one of the creatures standing nearby, only to find that he was completely alone. The last thing Leonard remembered was stopping on an overpass through the downtown area, high above the city, to check his map and figure out where to go. He had gone for hours without seeing or hearing the creatures anymore, and figured it would be safe to pause for just a few minutes of rest. Seconds after turning the engine off, though, the mere act of blinking became too much for his body to overcome, and he fell instantly asleep.

Leonard cautiously exited the car and stood at the edge of the overpass. It was on the western side of the city, and was high enough to provide a stunning view of the area below. Rings of destruction radiated out from two points that Leonard could see, indicating that at least two bombs were detonated over the area. Both the eastern and western portions of the city had taken massive damage, but there were still many buildings left standing or at least partially intact. The overpass was one of the structures that had survived, suffering only minor damage, and even that was mostly cosmetic.

In the downtown area, where the skyscrapers once stood, there were just a few skeletons left towering into the sky. Stripped of their windows and facades, they were nothing but steel shells, teetering precariously over the city below. The whole scene reminded Leonard of the grim sights in New York, though he was struck by the one glaring disparity between the two places that he just now noticed.

When Leonard had emerged from the sewers, he was overwhelmed by the enormity of death that had surrounded him. Bodies had littered the streets, burned and torn apart by the bombs. While Manhattan had been covered with the remains of the unfortunates who were caught in the blast, there were no remnants of any people in Richmond.

Leonard thought back to the previous days of travel, realizing that in all of the vehicles and buildings and ruins he had been through, there hadn’t been a single trace of a body in any of it. A chill ran down Leonard’s spine as he imagined the implications of this and pondered why the island was the only place he had seen any sign of humans thus far.

As Leonard gazed over the city, he spied, just below him, a large red brick structure with several white cars out in front, most of which were overturned. From above, the building looked sound, and Leonard realized what it was after a closer examination of the vehicles in front of it.
A police station!

While Leonard was certain that the station would be devoid of any people, his excitement came from what else the station was certain to contain. As he got back in the Jeep, Leonard looked down at the drill, still sitting in the center console.
Sorry, darling, but I need something a bit more high caliber.

The trip down from the overpass was dangerous, but it afforded Leonard the opportunity to see the city from a new vantage point. The overpass was several miles long, stretching high above the western side of the city, looping around to the north. Built as a desperate measure to reduce the traffic in the city below, the overpass was massive. Six lanes wide on each side, it stuck out like a sore thumb, and the construction had taken seven years to complete. Because of the number of people who lived directly under the structure, it was built to a far greater tolerance than any other road or building in the entire city. Many of the cosmetic features of the overpass had been torn away by the bombs, but the core structure stood strong, resisting the powerful nuclear shockwaves. 

After hours of cautious driving, Leonard pulled into the parking lot of the police station. It had taken several tries to get there, but eventually he found the right road. There was still no sign of the creatures, though Leonard was vigilant in keeping a nervous eye out for them. From the front, the police station looked a little worse for wear than it had from above, but it was still in decent condition. Many of the glass windows had blown out, but they still had metal bars in them that were intact. The building was squat, only two stories tall, and had the appearance of being constructed several decades ago. It looked as though it had been renovated in the last few years, but only to the point of repaving the parking lot and planting a few new trees, two of which had survived the bombing and were still standing.

The station was almost bunker-like in appearance, with a central section and two wings that extended out from either side. The central section was sunken in past the wings, and a small round courtyard sat in front of the entrance. The front doors were glass and had been blown out, but Leonard could see a set of bars in them as well, just like the windows.
Must have been a bad neighborhood if the cops had bars on their windows and doors.

Leonard parked the Jeep in front of the station, backing up right in front of the steps leading to the courtyard, as he had at the hotel, in case he needed to make another fast getaway. He left his supplies in the Jeep this time around, taking only the backpack and his shoulder bag with him, brandishing the cordless drill in his hand like a weapon.

He ascended the steps to the police station, passing by the flagpole that sat in the courtyard between the two wings, in front of the main entrance. The doors to the station – or what was left of them – were unlocked and Leonard swung one slowly open, wincing with each step as the broken glass cracked and crumbled under his feet. The sounds echoed through the lobby of the abandoned building, underscoring the emptiness of the place.

In the center of the entrance sat rows of cheap chairs, bolted to the floor; a waiting area for those unfortunate enough to need to visit the station. Twenty feet back sat a long, tall oak desk positioned lengthwise along the room where Leonard presumed several officers would have sat during a normal day, waiting to greet visitors and the incarcerated. Each side of the desk had short swinging gates to push through, offering access to the rows upon rows of officers’ workstations beyond.

Aside from the glass scattered in the lobby in front of the main desk, the interior of the station was in good shape. The room was dark due to the lack of windows, but Leonard could see that there were maybe twenty or so individual desks and chairs behind the lobby, all with papers, computers and trinkets scattered across them.

He paused in the entrance for a few moments, listening for any sign of life in the building. The only sounds he heard were his own breath and a slight breeze outside, so he continued forward, placing his hardhat on his head and turning on the light.
Time to see what we’ve got around here.

Marcus Warden | Nancy Sims
5:09 AM, April 4, 2038

Marcus woke to the slight squeal of the brakes as Nancy pulled the truck over. He sat up in the bed of the truck, looking around. It was dark, with buildings and trees surrounding them. Moonlight filtered through overhead, and he heard the soft thump of the truck’s door open and then shut again as Nancy stepped out. Marcus leaned his head over the edge of the truck.

“Something wrong?”

Nancy gave him a wide berth as she walked to the back of the truck, still unsure of his intentions. “No, just need to put more gas in the tank.”

Marcus looked down at the back of the truck and saw three full cans of fuel still sitting next to him. With a grunt, he picked one up and hopped out, holding it up for Nancy.

“I promise you, I don’t want to hurt you. I just want to get into the city.”

Nancy hesitated, then took the proffered can from Marcus, unscrewed the top and began to empty it into the truck. “I think we’re in the city by now, but I can’t make heads or tails of where in it we might be. I’ve never been here before.”

Marcus took a deep breath. He desperately wanted to earn this woman’s trust, to find out more about her and try to piece together what she knew with what he knew. “I know the city. I could drive, if you’ll let me.”

Nancy didn’t look up from her work until she finished draining the can. She tossed it back into the truck and turned to face Marcus. They eyed each other in the soft light of the moon and the side glow from the headlights. Marcus was a good foot taller than Nancy, and the two of them both looked as though they had been through a meat grinder. Both were covered with scratches and bruises, Marcus with a bandaged hand and Nancy with a cloth still wrapped around her head from when Richard had knocked her out.

In that moment, Nancy looked directly into Marcus’s eyes for the first time since picking him up and saw something in his face that she missed before. While Marcus was battered and bruised, his eyes still had a softness about them that reminded her of James, and how he looked at her just before he passed. Nancy felt herself begin to break down at the thought of her friend and the strange familiarity of this new person standing in front of her. Throwing caution to the wind, she lunged forward at Marcus, wrapped her arms around the complete stranger and began to sob uncontrollably.

Taken by surprise, Marcus didn’t know how to respond at first. He patted Nancy on the back and offered what words of encouragement he could. “It’s okay, Nancy, just calm down. We’re safe.” Nancy pulled back after a moment, wiping tears from her dirt-encrusted face.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean–”  Marcus stopped her with a wave of his hand. “Forget about it. Water under the bridge.” An awkward silence settled over the two as they stood next to the truck, each wondering what to do next.

Surprising even herself, Nancy was the first to break the awkward silence. “Do you still want to drive?”

Marcus nodded and accepted the keys from Nancy. “Thanks; I’ll get us the rest of the way. Where were you trying to get to, anyway?”

Nancy shrugged as she climbed into the passenger’s seat. “I’m not really sure. My friend said that he heard that there’s some kind of military base in the city, but I have no idea where. I was just going to drive around until I found it.”

Marcus shook his head. “Way too dangerous. Look, my parents have a house in the city. Let’s get there, then we can figure out how to get you to your base or wherever it is you need to go.” Marcus’s hopes for finding his parents alive had been diminished near to the point of no return over the last several days. Meeting Nancy had restored those hopes, though. If another person had survived, then there was still a flicker of a chance that his parents could be alive, too, somewhere out there.