Final Dawn: Season 3 (The Thrilling Post-Apocalyptic Series) (12 page)

Rachel Walsh | Marcus Warden | David Landry

4:17 PM, April 27, 2038

The pleasant weather that Rachel had been enjoying was lost on her as she ran full-tilt for the base of the dark tower, hoping that the creatures following after the runaway locomotive wouldn’t turn to see her and Marcus. For his part, Marcus was holding his own, keeping pace with her as they raced across the flat, rocky soil, kicking up a trail of dust that dissipated in the breeze. Rachel’s heart was beating in her ears and her temples were throbbing when she finally stopped just inside the entrance to the tower base and finally out of sight of the creatures outside. She and Marcus rested for a few moments before he spoke, still gasping for air after the long run.

“I hope this is worth it, because I do
not
feel like going underground yet again.”

Rachel managed a weak smile as she looked down into the tunnel along the train tracks that stretched forward in front of them into the darkness. “Buck up, Marcus. We’re nearly through.”

Leading the way with her rifle in hand, Rachel advanced down the tunnel, keeping next to the wall and as far away from the tracks as possible. Marcus followed her, casting a worried glance behind them as they descended into the darkness below. The light on Rachel’s gun was the only one that illuminated their path, and though it shone brightly, the thick atmosphere of the tunnel made it seem like a firefly struggling to throw back the night. The pair hurried as quickly as they dared, wincing every time they heard gravel crunch beneath their feet or their backpacks happened to scrape against the metallic wall, causing echoes to reverberate for what sounded like miles in every direction. As the steep downward slope began to even out, Rachel slowed to a halt and crouched down, pointing her light at the opposite wall.

“Over there,” she whispered, “I think that’s the way in.” A large, dark, rectangular hole sat in the place where Rachel indicated, carved into the side of the tunnel. Inside, Marcus could barely make out the form of a ramp leading to the interior of the structure. With a final look at one another, Rachel and Marcus hurried across the double set of railroad tracks and into the opening in the wall. As the temperature dropped by several degrees, Rachel shivered, suddenly realizing that nearly the entire length of the tunnel had been much cooler than she would have expected, even for being as far underground as it was.

Passing through into the tower proper felt like traveling from their world into one that was completely alien. The opening in the side of the wall was several feet taller than Marcus and Rachel, and wide enough that—had there been tracks installed leading inside—three locomotives could have passed through the entrance side by side. Rachel cast the flashlight downward, examining the worn metal flooring and remarked to Marcus on its odd appearance.

“Looks like they used this for hauling in supplies. Look at how even the wear marks are.”

Marcus nodded in response, bending over to examine the wear marks before quickly standing up to continue walking. As Rachel raised the flashlight back up, she and Marcus finally saw where the entrance into the structure went. Two wide spiraling ramps were ahead of them, one leading up to the left and one leading down to the right. The pair slowed to a stop in front of the ramps and Rachel shone the light up and down the ramps as Marcus leaned in and spoke quietly in her ear.

“We should probably go up, but why on earth did they go down, too?”

Rachel looked at him and shrugged, shaking her head with a puzzled expression. “I have no idea. We do need to go up, though.”

Marcus held out his hand and raised his eyebrows as he motioned toward the flashlight. Rachel passed it to him along with the rifle, taking a welcome break from carrying the heavy weapon and falling in line behind Marcus as they started their ascent up the ramp. As they walked, Marcus found himself wondering why the flashlight was growing dimmer, only to realize that it was the surroundings that were getting lighter instead. The very walls that surrounded Marcus and Rachel began to glow faintly off-white, and Marcus finally cut off the flashlight and stood still for a few moments while his eyes adjusted to the light.

“Uh, Rachel?” Marcus looked up and down the ramp, licking his lips nervously. “Why is this thing
glowing
?”

Rachel stretched out her hand toward the wall, narrowing her eyes as she noticed a flicker in the light that emanated from its surface. As her hand drew closer, the wall began to ripple at its approach, eventually parting when she was just a few inches away. Instead of a solid wall as she and Marcus had thought it to be, the glowing surface was comprised of the nanobots, which acted as a protective encasement for the objects beneath their surface. Reacting to Rachel’s presence, the nanobots continued to part, revealing a figure underneath. Its head was bowed, its arms crossed and its legs straight as it stood against a solid wall just beneath the surface of the nanobots.

Standing still against a wall with additional creatures to its right and left, its breathing was slow and deep, its sunken chest rising and falling raggedly as it clung to life. “What in God’s name…” Marcus stretched out his hand toward the creature, mesmerized by it and wanting to feel for himself the cold metallic pieces protruding from its skin.

Rachel slapped his hand away and pushed him against the interior wall of the spiral ramp which, thankfully, was solid on its surface. “Don’t. Touch. It.” Rachel hissed at him, glancing back at the creature whose protective wall of nanobots were beginning to fall back into place. Instead of moving closer to the wall and disrupting its flow, Rachel simply stood there, staring at the creature until the last traces of it had vanished. Her face was pale and she wasn’t breathing for a moment, until Marcus touched her arm, startling her and making her jump.

“Rachel? What it is?”

Swallowing nervously, Rachel took back the rifle and flashlight from Marcus, who gave them up without hesitation. Though part of it was surely due to the eerie lighting, the fear that had drained the blood from Rachel’s face was enough to send shivers up Marcus’s spine and make him a thousand times more nervous than he had been just moments prior.

“You know how we kept talking about there not being much time before the AI was ready for its next step?” The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees, as did the intensity of the light. “We just ran out of time.”

Rachel kept staring at the spot in the wall where the creature had been located. Marcus, in turn, stared at her, waiting for her to explain what she meant before he finally whispered the question. “What are you talking about?”

Rachel motioned to where the creature was located, standing still behind a layer of nanobots. “The creatures. My God, the creatures. That’s the ultimate purpose behind them. The AI needs incredible processing capabilities to upgrade its capabilities. What better place to find that capability than in the millions of creatures that it created and used to build this place, among other things.”

It was Marcus’s turn to swallow hard, the sound of the gulp echoing in his ears. “If the creatures are being used by the AI, then why are the nanobots just being put on guard duty? Shouldn’t they be out there, finding more people to turn into these things?”

Rachel shook her head. “Right now, they’re doing the most important job in their world: watching over a baby about to be born.”

Leonard McComb | Nancy Sims

4:21 PM, April 27, 2038

Lying in the ruins of a building in the middle of the night while thousands of creatures passed by wasn’t the most pleasant of experiences Nancy had ever had, but she would have gladly done it ten times over had it meant getting out of the confines of the metal tube she was now in.
At least that way
, she thought as she followed behind Krylov, with Andrey following up behind her,
I could run, if nothing else.
The interior walls of the sub started shrinking once she saw the remains of the two crewmembers floating in the flooded compartment, and they continued to feel that way as she walked down the hall, gripping her rifle tightly for the small measure of comfort it offered.

Though the water was cold on her feet and ankles, Nancy paid it no mind as they walked through the hallway, moving toward the chamber housing the missiles. On the way from the command deck to the flooded compartments, Krylov had expressed some reservations about entering the area before power had been fully restored, but there was no way to do that in a short amount of time with so few crewmembers left. Partially caused by the flooding and partially by the creatures rampaging through, the power loss had affected several individual compartments as well as the missile bay. Assuming they actually reached the missiles, Krylov had informed her, there would be no problem since there were emergency generators that would provide enough power to prepare the missiles for launch.

The risk they took by traipsing through dark hallways on the way to the only thing standing between the earth and total annihilation when there were one or more creatures still lurking about was not lost on Nancy. Every movement, sight, and sound was cause for alarm, and not just for Nancy either. Both Commander Krylov and Andrey were fully aware of the enormity of their situation, and both were every bit as tense as Nancy. Upon reaching the door into the missile bay, the collective relief from the trio was nearly palpable despite the fact that they weren’t out of the woods yet.

Slinging his rifle over his shoulder, Krylov grasped the locking mechanism with both hands and turned it, surprised to find that it spun easily. Once unlocked, the door swung open with a loud squeal, revealing an interior of the missile bay that was far different than the one that had been presented to Nancy and Leonard previously. No water was visible on the floors, but the main lighting was shut down like the flooded compartments, with slowly pulsating red emergency lights as the only source of illumination. Contrasting starkly with the cylindrical missile tubes and brightly-colored radiation and warning symbols adorning the walls, the light gave the room a deathly atmosphere. Nancy shivered as she stepped into the room behind Krylov, looking around at the dark shadows that stretched far down the length of the bay.

“Mr. Lipov, get the door shut and sealed.” Commander Krylov wasted no time once they entered the missile bay. Having already pulled his rifle off of his shoulder as he stepped through the doorway, he began to walk the length of the bay, scanning the darkness between each missile tube with his flashlight. Moments ticked past slowly as Andrey and Nancy stood together near the control panels at the opposite end of the missile bay, the both of them continually looking around through the darkness, simultaneously trying to catch a glimpse of anything moving in the shadows and hoping that nothing appeared. Not used to being separated from his cousin for so long, Andrey felt himself growing more paranoid by the moment. It got so bad that he was visibly shaking, his hands trembling as he tried to hold his gun steady in them. Nancy touched his shoulder gently and he jumped, his eyes wide and his breathing becoming faster and more intense.

“Andrey, calm down.” She smiled as she spoke, trying to break his tension. “We’re safe here for now. Just relax.”

“Safe?” Andrey’s whisper was harsh, more so than he had wanted. “We are not safe. Not with those
things
on board.”

“Just wait and see.” She pointed at Commander Krylov, who was making his way back toward them. “He hasn’t found anything and the doors are sealed up tight.”

Andrey looked expectantly at Krylov, who nodded as he approached them, handing his rifle to Andrey to hold. “Missile bay is secure. Keep on alert, though, Mr. Lipov.” Andrey relaxed noticeably upon hearing Krylov give the all clear, and the tremors in his hands immediately disappeared. Straightening his back, he walked a few feet away from the control station, putting his back to the wall as he stood guard.

Krylov nodded and then turned his attention to Nancy. “Ms. Sims, have you ever participated in the arming and pre-launch sequence of a thermonuclear device?”

Nancy couldn’t help but snort in amusement at the question. “Of course not, Commander. I assume you have, though.”

Krylov’s expression remained serious as he stared at the control panel and replied in a quiet tone. “Once. I swore I’d never do it again after we came
this
close to launching because some bureaucratic assholes decided they wanted to play chicken.”

Nancy’s amusement instantly dried up and she cleared her throat before speaking. “This isn’t that kind of situation anymore. Our future is hanging in the balance, Commander. You know that as well as I do.”

Krylov nodded and sighed. He looked over at Nancy, his eyes and face darkened and worn down from stress and lack of sleep. “That makes it no less difficult, Ms. Sims.” Nancy patted Krylov on the shoulder, unsure how he would respond to the action. Instead of brushing her off or ignoring her, a thin smile spread across his face and a small sparkle returned to his eyes. “Still though, that’s no excuse for not acting. So let’s begin, shall we?”

Without hesitation, Krylov launched into an explanation of the control station in front of them, giving Nancy a crash course in what everything did. Having seemingly forgotten his earlier insistence that Nancy stay on the command deck, Krylov was instead putting her to work while at the same time carefully watching over everything she did to ensure that no mistakes were made. Andrey craned his neck from his position near the wall as he watched the two work, completely lost by what Krylov was explaining. While Andrey knew many of the systems on the command deck, he was low enough on the totem pole that he had never received any training on the more advanced systems in the submarine, including the ones that controlled the missiles.

“Congratulations,” Krylov said as an amber light began to glow on the console. “You just finished arming a nuclear ballistic missile.” Taking the radio from his belt, he looked at the catwalk above them as he spoke. “Mr. McComb, this is Commander Krylov. Please inform your party on the shore that we will be ready to launch in approximately two hours. We have keyed in the coordinates of the nexus as the primary detonation location, with the option to divert to an aerial detonation should the situation necessitate it.”

On the command deck, Leonard’s jaw dropped open upon hearing Krylov’s message, but he quickly regained his composure. After replying to Krylov with a simple “Understood,” Leonard took a deep breath and manipulated the controls on the radio, hoping that he’d be able to get a response from Rachel with his next transmission. Leonard had been trying repeatedly to get in touch with her after hearing her repeated message, but there had been no response thus far. With no one around on the command deck to ask, Leonard assumed the transmission difficulties were due to the range from shore and was forced to wait, tapping his fingers nervously on the control station in between each transmission as he waited to send the next one.

The pain in his leg was still present, as it had been since the moment he was shot, but the distraction of manning the radio had dulled it, sending it to the back of his mind where he would occasionally think about it, but never for very long. What he could not distract himself from, though, since the moment he woke up after surgery, was the feeling that his leg was still there, despite the absence of the limb. Coworkers of his had lost digits and limbs in past years, and every one, without fail, would describe the feeling of a phantom limb in detail, though Leonard had never been able to understand it. Swiveling to the side in his chair and lifting his left leg up and down while making the same muscle movements in the right, he could swear that the weight of his right leg was there as it was pulled downward by gravity right alongside his left one.

Forcing himself to wait a few moments in between each transmission he sent, Leonard had found plenty of time to experiment with his phantom limb, and was in the middle of one involving a pencil and three rubber bands when the speaker at his station came to life with a faint voice interspersed with static.

“Leonard! Repeat yo ***** mission! We’re ***** shit over here!”

Dropping the rubber bands and pencil to the floor, Leonard’s eyes grew wide and he swung back around to the controls, pushing down on the transmit button while he spoke, holding his mouth less than an inch from the microphone as he tried to remain calm.

“This is Leonard McComb on board the Russian submarine Arkhangelsk transmitting for Rachel Walsh on shore. Message is as follows: the launch is ready in two hours. The launch is ready in two hours. Do you copy?”

Leonard leaned back, tilting his head as he listened for a response. The voice that had come through hadn’t sounded like Rachel, but there was so much static that he wasn’t sure if it was her or not. Seconds later, though, he had his answer, and this time with slightly less distortion than before.

“This is David ***** Rachel and Mar ***** the nexus! ***** Do you copy?”