Final Dawn: Season 1 (The Thrilling Post-Apocalyptic Series) (4 page)

5:02 AM, March 27, 2038

Leonard McComb

Leonard leaned against the wall of the sewage pipe, wiping his face on his sleeve as he angled his headlamp towards his watch.
It's only five? I'm making better time than I thought.
Leonard wasn't the youngest man in his department, but unlike most of the others, he had kept himself in reasonable shape throughout his employment by watching his portion sizes, not going overboard with his weekend drinking and keeping an eye on his waistline. The result wasn't entirely satisfactory, but he was still able to run up a flight of stairs without wheezing, which is more than could be said for his coworkers, some of whom were only half his age. Despite all of this, Leonard was exhausted, and his legs ached after hours of walking through twisting pipes.

From what he had seen so far, the damage had been much less severe than what he had experienced in the maintenance room and above. He knew that this was because he had been traveling at a slight downward angle this whole time, and that the situation might get worse as he leveled out and began to ascend towards the surface again. As he continued to walk, Leonard kept his light off as much as possible, turning it on for a few seconds at a time to check for rubble or holes in the pipes, and then turning it off as he walked forward. Down here, the air was moist and musty and there were almost no sounds save those of distant running water and occasional crashes or clatters from rodents crawling through the underground labyrinth. Though Leonard had never walked this particular pipe before, he was well in tune with the underground environment and had felt at ease for most of his journey despite the destruction and panic from earlier.

Leonard flipped his light on again and saw, in the distance, a branch in the pipe. He left his light on and picked up his pace until he reached the fork. What remained of an ancient nameplate hung at a jagged angle above the junction, dangling from a single rusted screw, but the remaining lettering was far too aged to tell what it said. Leonard frowned, unsure what to do at this point. He hadn't expected this type of juncture at all, much less this far away from the processing plant just outside the river. If the wrong path was chosen, he could end up doubling back towards the interior of the city, circling around for who knows how long. As he glanced from tunnel to tunnel, an idea formed in in the back of his head and he pulled out one of the bottles of water from his pack. He unscrewed the top, walked several feet down into the left tunnel and poured a quarter of the bottle down on the floor in a puddle. As he watched, it slowly moved backwards toward the direction he had walked from. He followed the water back and performed the same action in the right tunnel. This time, the water slowly began to trickle forward, downward into the right-hand tunnel. "Up and out," he muttered, walking back out to the main pipe and into the left tunnel, hopeful that this way did actually go up and out.

4:15 PM, March 29, 2038

Marcus Warden

After six hours of hiking, Marcus was getting concerned. He had passed numerous cars on the road out of the valley, crossed a highway and passed by a small convenience store on the outskirts of the national forest. Each car was carefully searched and he had combed the convenience store from top to bottom, but the results were the same. There was no sign of a single living soul anywhere he went. Fortunately, he was well stocked from raiding the convenience store, which was also good, since every car he checked wasn't working. Every time it was the same story; the key would turn, but nothing would come on. He had started checking batteries in the cars, but quickly abandoned that idea. Every vehicle's battery was working fine; it was the electronics in the cars themselves that seemed to be out. "Damned computers," he mumbled, chewing on a piece of jerky as he strolled along.

As the shadows grew long in the sky, Marcus decided it was time to rest for the night. A full day's hike had put him well on his way towards the state border, but he had a long way to go before he got there. As he searched for a place to sleep, Marcus spotted a bus in the distance that had tipped over on its side in a ditch, the "Greyhound" name half-covered by mud and grass. Marcus picked up his pace, running towards the bus, hoping that this time there might be someone around. He clambered onto the side of the bus and looked through the windows, seeing nothing inside except for a mess of backpacks and suitcases, the remnants of whatever poor souls had been in the bus when it tipped over.
Dammit, where did they go?
This scene was getting frightfully old and it began to worry him. A few empty cars had been easy to rationalize. But a bus full of people's belongings out here on a major highway, with no one around? Something was wrong, and it was starting to look worse than he originally thought.

Despite his growing fears, Marcus knew he needed to rest. Gripping the bus doors tightly, he pulled until they gave way and then dropped inside. While it wouldn't be the most comfortable place he had ever slept, a nagging voice in the back of his head told him that sleeping out in the open wasn't the best idea given the current situation. Marcus heaved the pack off of his shoulders, arching his back in relief, and pulled out a gas lantern that he found at the convenience store. As he turned the knob to light the lantern, he saw movement at the back of the bus that he hadn't noticed from outside. He twisted the knob, brightening the lantern, and held it forward. "Is someone there? Hello?"

A sudden buzzing filled the air and Marcus was knocked back as a whirling mass came rushing towards him from the back of the bus. His lantern shattered against the side window and his head hit the edge of one of the seats, filling his vision with stars as he blacked out.

9:27 AM, March 29, 2038

Nancy Sims

Nancy blinked several times, squinting her eyes at the shaft of light that broke through the clouds of dust and smoke overhead, passing through the open loft door and hitting her square in the face. The sounds of cows rustling and calling to each other sounded below and she pushed herself up, looking out of the loft window down onto the house. There was still no sign of movement and it didn't look like anything had been touched or moved since last night. As Nancy started to get up, she noticed a shimmering in the distance along the highway that was several hundred feet from the house. It moved quickly down the road, nearly as fast as a car, and her heart jumped at the thought.
They must have gone out and are just getting back! Finally,
she thought,
I can get this whole mess taken care of!

As the shimmering mass grew closer, Nancy's elation began to wane and an inexplicable chill gripped her stomach. Though the shimmer was still far away, it was close enough now that she could see that it wasn't a car. In fact, she had no idea what it was. A faint buzzing grew in her ears, and the closer she watched the shimmering mass, the more it seemed to be pulsing as it moved, almost like it was alive. Nancy sat back down, scooting over behind the side of the loft window, trying to keep herself out of sight.

As she moved out of the way of the window, the mass suddenly stopped directly next to the dirt path that led to the house. Her fear continued to grow, overwhelming Nancy as the object moved again, this time down the dirt path, toward the house. Unable to hide herself any more, Nancy froze, unconsciously holding her breath as if that would somehow shield her from the mass that was steadily approaching. The buzzing grew louder, pulsating in her head like the sound of hornets, bees and a broken bass speaker all tied into one.

Unable to tear her eyes away despite her fear, Nancy's gaze widened as the object stopped outside the house, buzzing and pulsating like some type of shimmering cloud, hovering a few inches off the ground. It stayed there for a few moments, turning and moving with the breeze, the buzzing drowning out the sounds of the cows below. Then, as quickly as it arrived, it tore back down the dirt path, turning left along the highway and continuing along on its original route. A gasp escaped Nancy's lungs and she breathed deeply, realizing that she had been holding her breath in this whole time. Whatever that object had been, it must have seen her. What other reason did it have for coming towards her? But how did it see her from so far away? And why did it leave? Slumping back into the hay, Nancy closed her eyes, unable to think about the shimmering mass anymore, losing herself in the smell of the hay and the sounds of the cows, trying to forget what she had seen and heard.

5:38 AM, March 27, 2038

Leonard McComb

Leaning against the wall of the sewer pipe, Leonard slurped loudly as he drained the rest of his water. This had clearly been the right path, since he had done nothing but climb upwards at a steep angle for the last half hour. By his estimation, he would be close to the surface soon, the increasing damage to the pipe proving this point clearer than anything else. More than once he had been forced to manhandle a large chunk of concrete out of the way or dig through a mound of dirt and debris that had been knocked through a section of the pipe wall. Still, despite the damage, he was making progress.

After another hour of walking, crawling and maneuvering through the piping, it gradually leveled out, though Leonard could see that the path ahead had completely caved in. Frustration began to set in, but he ventured forward and began to climb up the pile of concrete and dirt, his headlamp cutting meekly through the swirling dust, a sign that the battery was almost drained. Leonard cursed, wishing he had brought his spare battery pack with him instead of just a spare headlamp. If this one gave out, he'd only have a few hours left on his second lamp, and then he would be stuck without a single source of light. As he pulled himself to the top of the pipe, Leonard's frustration changed into elation, and he swore once more, this time in glee at the sight ahead. "Shit, yes! The processing station!" The echo of his cry carried across the wide space that had been carved into the dirt and solid rock under the edge of the island. While it had been years since he had last set eyes on the place, he still remembered that there was a maintenance stairwell on the opposite side of the station that led straight to the surface. With any luck, it would still be intact and he’d finally be out of this Godforsaken place.

Though close to the surface, the processing station chamber had sustained only minor damage, most likely as a result of the large quantity of reinforcement that had gone into its construction. Unlike other parts of the underground system, the processing stations were some of the few places that were properly designed and built to withstand major catastrophes. Though the designers had never envisioned the type of destruction that had rained down from the heavens in the last twenty-four hours, the station had survived well enough. The ceiling and walls had sustained only minor damage and it looked like a good quarter of the emergency lights were still functioning, providing just enough light to make out vague shapes in the darkness.

Leonard crawled to the edge of the pipe and jumped down, landing on a catwalk that ran the length of the station some twenty-five feet above the ground. Thousands of pipes ranging in size from a few inches to a few meters in diameter crisscrossed above and below him. Most were intact, though some had been damaged and split open, spilling their contents onto the floor below. As Leonard walked forward, he noticed something odd about the plant.

He stood still, looking around until it hit him – the smell. Although the raw sewage was theoretically supposed to be sealed inside the various pipes and processing vats, there was always a horrific stench in every processing station. But this was the first time he had ever been in a processing station where the smell was almost unnoticeable.
How's that possible?
he wondered.
For there to be no smell, there'd have to be no people. Maybe there was an evacuation?
If the population of the island had dropped enough, that would explain why the sewage levels dropped enough to dial back the odor.

Leonard continued across the catwalk, avoiding the occasional waterfall of sewage overhead. He was heading towards the distant roar of the backup diesel generators that sounded like twin beacons summoning him forward in the direction of the control room. The plant was largely powered by the city's grid, but it did have two generators that would operate in the event of a power failure to ensure that pressure was maintained in the system. As Leonard turned a corner on the catwalk, he looked up a flight of stairs that led to the control room door. Instead of seeing the familiar windowless door, however, he was greeted by a buzzing, writhing mass.

The mass was unlike anything Leonard had seen before. Barely fifteen feet away up the flight of stairs it looked like a swarm of gnats, though it was bright silver in color, shimmering as it reflected light from his headlamp and the surrounding emergency lights. "What the fuck is that!?" Leonard half shouted in shock. The mass seemed to react to the words. It pulsed once, its swirling becoming more intense, and then it retreated towards the control room door. Instead of opening the door, the mass seemed to melt through it, passing through the cracks on the sides, top and bottom of the door like vapor. Unsure of what to do, Leonard took a step up, cautiously heading towards the doorway. The only way he knew to get out of the processing plant was through the control room. As he saw it, he had no other choice but to keep going, despite that thing, whatever it was. As his foot hit the second step on the stairwell, a sharp whine cut across the sound of the generators and Leonard threw his hands against his ears in pain.

The sound of metal grinding upon metal was deafening and after just a few seconds the lights went out, followed by the generators. The whine wound down along with the generators, and Leonard fumbled for the switch on his headlamp to turn it on. Looking around, he saw, on the far side of the control room, a faint silver shimmer rising out of a broken window as the mass drifted towards the ceiling in a slow, circling spiral. He watched as it floated to the top of the processing plant and disappeared into a broken pipe that jutted from the wall. As the last bit of it flitted out of sight, his headlamp blinked several times, growing fainter with each flicker as it slowly faded away to nothing. Leonard cursed loudly and reached for his pack, searching for the spare headlamp, unable to find it. He thought back to the pipe, when he had been crawling, and his pack had been caught on a piece of rebar. Pulling it free must have dislodged the spare lamp, or else it had fallen out somewhere else along the way.

Stuck on the catwalk, unable to see anything since the emergency lights died along with the generator, Leonard hissed into the darkness.

"Shiiiit."