Monsters of the Apocalypse (23 page)

The drone helicopters moved
silently through the night until they reached their destination, where they
hovered momentarily. When they turned and flew back in the direction they
had come they were just as silent as the men who they had left behind.
The soldiers wore black and their faces were painted to match. They moved
quickly and sure-footedly over the ground of the dead park where they had
landed, into the closest house. They perched at all of the windows and
waited to see any sign of being followed or seen, but nothing came.

The sergeant raised the small
device to his mouth.

"Miho, we have landed."

"Good. There is a
mutant band two clicks north of you, which means they can probably smell
you. Satellite imagery suggests it numbers about five and has set up in
an old condo complex. Use caution and good judgment."

The sergeant lowered the device
and steeled himself. He looked into the darkness of the house and inhaled
the stale smell of death and decay.

They moved
silently out of the house and into the night and when they fell upon the
mutants they killed with quick efficiency.

Caleb and
Nestor breathed the smoke and ash for miles before they saw the flames burning
over the horizon. When they were close enough to feel the heat they
stopped and watched in awe.

"What
the hell is that?"

"The
Mississippi River?"

"How
the hell is that possible?"

"Gas
tankers, see," Nestor pointed. "Drones blew them up to cripple
us. They leaked out, caught fire. Enough gas with all these
tankers, it'll burn for months."

They just
sat and watched the river burn. And so did everyone. On The Island,
in the mutant camps of the east, in the human fortress in Los Angeles, they all
just stopped and watched the Mississippi burn through Nestor's eyes, because
maybe it meant something, or maybe it was just good TV.

Eventually
one of them shifted and the other stretched and they moved on, finding a bridge
that they were able to pass without incident. The road they followed till
sunset ended in a city that once had a name and an identity, but was nothing
but a gravestone anymore. The city was empty. Not a corpse or
mutant to be seen. From the smell they knew that there were some rotting
bodies in the buildings, but they didn't go searching for any sort of visual
confirmation.

Suddenly,
without word, Nestor moved up ahead. He stared at an empty building for
an unbroken minute before grunting and moving on. He seemed to be seeing
signs, but to Caleb there was nothing special or different in this city,
nothing on the ground or the empty buildings that towered above that deserved
Nestor's attention, but he didn't question it. He'd learned anything that
made Nestor fidget was best left in the dark.

At sunset
they built a camp in one of the city parks, away from the looming buildings.

In the
middle of the night Caleb woke, long past the fire having burned down to
smoldering coals. He sat up and looked around the camp's perimeter,
looking for Nestor. Off in the distance he saw the orange burn of a
cigarette and he cocked his pistol and walked in that direction.

"Nestor?"

"Something
is following us. Not on a delay, not through my feed, but by scent or
sight. They have been since we entered the city. Go back to sleep,
we'll leave early."

"What
do you see?"

"Nothing,
I just know it. We're being followed."

In the
morning they made their way west on the straightest street they could find,
hoping that the pursuers would have to show themselves or lose them. They
did this for half an hour and they never saw a thing.

"Well,
they can follow us by scent then," Nestor shrugged and looked up at the
sky, "or satellite."

"Satellite…
you mean Islanders?"

"Maybe."

"Mutants?"

"Maybe.
They aren't good at being this quiet usually. This feels different.
I don't know, we'll just keep moving."

Nestor
stopped suddenly and turned into a dirty alley. It was covered in dried
blood and held the remnants of an old campsite. The tent was torn to
pieces and inside was a skeleton, picked clean. Some of the bones were
broken where some stray dog had chewed them.

"Big
dog," Nestor mused as he looked over the area.

The killer
had left the man's gun. Nestor picked it up. It was still loaded
with only one bullet gone. The deceased had fired one shot before he
died. Nestor looked at the walls of the alley. He found the bullet
hole where the shot had missed, the shooter had aimed low. He
unconsciously dismantled the gun and threw its parts in various directions, not
willing to leave a gun behind, even if this man's killer had been.

That night
they built a camp in the parking lot of a convenience store. Nestor
didn’t hide their fire. He leaned against the wall of the building, rifle
across his thighs and smoked cigarettes. Eventually he heard the howling
and the growling and he knew.

"Caleb,
we got a problem."

"What?"

"We're
being hunted by wolves."

"Wolves?
Plural? How many?" Caleb said with a start.

"One's
enough, but it's more."

"Are
they, are they hungry, Nestor? Are they gonna eat us, cuz, maybe they
won't. I've always liked wolves."

"What
do you like about them?"

"A lot
of things. They're majestic."

"Majestic?"

"Well,
now that one's trying to eat me I'm having doubts."

"Funny
how that works, huh Caleb? Shit. Bragg could have warned me that
there were wild animals out here."

Caleb burst
into hysterics drawing a confused glance from Nestor.

"You
need that warning?"

"Yes."

"Okay,
Nestor, in this radioactive world, populated by nameless mutants of nightmare,
this world without law or order or security… there are wild animals out here
too."

Nestor
stared at Caleb. Caleb smiled wide. Nestor laughed and then cocked
his gun and crept into the darkness.

"I'll
take care of it."

"Nestor?
Aw, Jesus," Caleb said checking to make sure there was a bullet in the
chamber of his pistol.

Nestor moved
around behind the store and saw glowing eyes in the darkness beyond the fire's
light following his smooth movements, but keeping their distance. Nestor
crouched behind a brick wall and closed his eyes tight. In the
self-imposed darkness he could hear their individual panting. It would
take a minute to adjust his eyes to the dark of the night after having stared
into the fire. Until then he would have to listen for a coming attack.

Jacob stood across from Arian,
mutant eyes allowing them see each other clearly in the darkness.

"I could see your doubt, you
know? It was so heartbreaking for me. What happened, Arian?
What happened to you?"

"You've gone too far,
Jacob."

"You worry that the plan
will fail?"

"I worry that it will
fail. I worry that it will succeed. All the players left are
insane. This whole world is insane. I can see that, because I'm
not."

"You're the last sane man on
Earth, are you?"

"I'm not a man, I'm a
mutant! I eat men, Jacob! I eat them," Arian turned away and
waited for the tears in his eyes to fall before looking back at Jacob.
"Unlike everybody else, I can't seem to reconcile that. I remember
when the bombs went off, during the Great War, afterward, you and I were
talking about whether or not there were any survivors. With so many
people in China and India alone, what were the chances that no one
survived? And I said: "even if there were, they'd die out in a generation
because their world was destroyed and toxic. Their loved ones were
gone. They would have to be insane to procreate in that
situation." And you said: "they'd either have to be insane… or
human." I remember that very well, and I think about what we are,
and this world we have left… the fight has just gone out of me, Jacob.
There's nothing left worth fighting for. Surviving for."

Jacob sighed and waited for Arian
to dry his cheeks and gather himself.

"Arian, where's your sense
of humor? You used to be such a fun guy."

"I don't know, I guess
eating people can really kill a guy's comic timing."

"Come now, Arian. That
was funny."

Jacob moved closer as Arian
slowly removed his coat. Arian's brands had warped during his mutant
transformation. Arian felt no fear as Jacob came within an arm's
length. Jacob stopped and smiled. Arian lowered himself into a
fighting stance. Jacob made no move to counter.

"Understand, Jacob, this
isn't personal. I don't want to kill you. But you know, if I can't
die a man, if I must die a mutant, I can at least die fighting. I can at
least die a soldier."

"Of course, I
understand. Goodbye, Arian, I always did like you. Now… to the
death."

"Okie
doke."

Flores and
Miho moved side by side through the streets of Santa Monica. They didn’t
see a soul until they came to the entrance of the subway tunnel on Colorado and
Ocean. The opening was guarded by two blonde teenage boys with bright
blue eyes that smiled when they talked.

"Who
are you and what are you doing here?" the shorter of the teens asked.

"My
name is Agent Alberto Flores. This is my associate, Miho Walker.
We're from The Island," Flores said from a comfortable distance.
"We're here for Bragg."

"Here
for him? To kill him?" the taller one laughed. "That's a
bad idea."

"No,
just to talk," Flores continued. "Tell him we're here to talk
about the survival of mankind."

"Yeah,
he's busy. You know, actually making sure mankind does survive, unlike
you Islanders who tried to kill it," the shorter one smiled.

"Okay,"
Flores, leaned back and looked at the two boys. "Should we kill
them?"

"No,
that wouldn't lead to anything but more killing," Miho shrugged.
"It's fine, we're just a little early."

"Look,
kids, go tell him that a very big army of mutants who eat people is headed for
the tunnels and we can help him if he talks to us. Otherwise he can just
go ahead and die."

"You
see the thing is big man, we don't really take orders from…" the door
behind the guards opened and Bragg stood filling it. The two teens
glanced back casually and then moved aside.

"Sorry,
my nephew's here, their job is to keep people out, not let them in. My
name's Bragg."

"My
name is…"

"Yeah,
I heard you. I was eating my lunch inside the door. I'm about to do
my shift on watch, but I suppose you knew that, which is why you got here
now. Of course, you got here a little early so it wouldn't seem that way,
since you want to keep my suspicions in check. Am I correct?"

"Yup,"
Flores nodded.

"I
ain't talking to you, slick. I'm talking to the one in charge. That
would be you, Ms. Walker, correct?"

"We
need to talk about the tunnels, Bragg. We need to talk about the coming
of Jacob and his Mutant Army."

Bragg smiled
and looked over Miho and Flores before slowly moving over to The Island, just a
shadow in the distance.

"No, I
don't think so. I just don't think I'd be able to trust anything you
said."

"Bragg,
listen. Jacob and October, these are not reasonable men or good
men. You are. You're a good man and there's a place for you in the
future of this country, the future of mankind. I want there to be a place
for you. We need to talk. I can help you live through what's
coming."

Bragg
finished the last bite of his sandwich and then wiped his hands on his pants.

"When
leaders start planning for their own survival, it generally means the people
who follow them are doomed," Bragg smiled. "I'm not especially
afraid of dying, Ms. Walker. I'm afraid of outliving these people, the
ones I'm sworn to protect. You can't help me, Ms. Walker. You can
only help yourself. It's the way of Islanders. You should go
now."

Miho and
Bragg stared each other down for a minute that seemed endless to Flores and the
teens. Finally Miho nodded briskly and she and Flores headed back to The
Island.

"Surprised
they left so easy," the tall teen said.

"Yeah,
I thought they'd put up more of a fight," the shorter one replied.
"What do you think they really wanted, Uncle Bragg?"

Bragg
watched the disappearing twosome.

"A wars
coming, boys, and she wanted the same thing most leaders want, to make sure
they win no matter who loses."

"You're
our leader, Uncle Bragg. What do you want?"

"I'm
the other kind of leader, the kind that wants to make sure if they lose it's
for something worthwhile."

"That's
the better kind of leader if you ask me!"

"If you
like your leaders alive it's not. Now go get something to eat while I
keep watch.
"

Nestor kept
his eyes closed and breathed.

Fifty
seconds.

He focused on
the panting of the pack wolves in front of him.

Forty
seconds.

Suddenly
there was another sound behind him, the sound of paw steps. Big paw steps
and dangerously close, but if he opened his eyes he knew he would only see
shadows in the dark. He had to wait.

Thirty more
seconds.

"Nestor?
How many wolves are there? I can't see anything. I'm blind from
staring into…"

"Shut
up, Caleb. This might not go well if I mess it up."

A growl came
from behind Nestor that was so deep that he could feel it in his chest.
It drew loud whimpers from the wolves in front of him. The whimpers began
to recede as the wolves fled in fear.

Twenty
seconds.

"Maybe
we should stop lighting fires every night, I mean, I like fires but they seem
to make us more vulnerable, but then again I don't like being cold. It's
a toss-up. I think I talk when I'm nervous. Do I talk a lot
when…"

"Seriously,
Caleb, shut up."

Nestor began
slowly turning around, leading with his sniper rifle. The growl grew
louder.

"Are we
gonna run, Nestor. Should I run? Should I be getting ready to
run? We should probably run."

"Shut
up, Caleb."

Ten seconds.

Nestor could
smell the big wolf now. He could hear the nails of its paws scratching
the concrete under its feet. Inch by inch Nestor finished his turn.

Five
seconds.

"Nestor…
I can sort of see a very big wolf right in front of… you should run. We
should run."

Nestor
opened his eyes and stared at the huge arctic wolf, its eyes glowing with the
translucence of the wild.

"Easy
now. Easy now," Nestor whispered.

Nestor's gun
was aimed at the face of the wolf, but he didn't shoot. The wolf moved
another slow step closer, growl growing more and more - his teeth showing under
the curl of his snarling lip.

"Easy
now."

Nestor spun
his rifle as the wolf leaped at him and crushed the butt of his gun hard into
the wolf's nose. The impact was as loud as a gunshot and blood splattered
in all directions. The impact vibrated up to Nestor's elbow, but he
ignored it and jumped forward, landing with his knee on the side of the prone
wolf's neck. He slammed his rifle down a second time into the wolf's ear.

The wolf lay
still. Nestor reached down and felt the warmth of the wolf's chest.
It moved only slightly, in small fast jolts of breath until, finally, it slowed
down, coming to a normal rhythmic pace.

"Easy,
Girl. Easy now."

"Girl?
How do you… Oh, yeah. Is she dead?"

"No."

"Are
you going to kill her?"

"Not if
I don't have to, Caleb. Now help me drag her to the fire."

The two men
grunted and groaned, but eventually they managed to get the beast to their
campfire. Nestor sat down cross-legged and laid the gun across his thighs
and waited. He closed his eyes and listened for anything in the area, but
they were alone. The alphas of the city. He opened his eyes and
watched the snow-white beast sleeping, a splattering of red around its mouth
and ear.

Nestor
looked up at the moon, the only thing bright enough in the night sky to break
through the permanent toxic gloom from the destruction of the past.
Nestor wondered what this beast must think. Once she ran across the
endless tundra of the north he imagined, then a zoo and now... He wondered if
it would be a good thing if the wolf didn't wake up. He wondered if when
the wolf woke up it would be a good idea not to be here.

"Can we
keep it, Nestor?"

"It
might try and kill you."

"Yeah,
I'm getting used to that."

The wolf
slowly opened her eyes. Nestor sat still, unblinking and unflinching,
with the gun still resting on his thighs.

The wolf
stared back at Nestor and for a while they stayed like that. Finally, the
wolf raised herself up to her hind legs. She growled at Nestor. He
stared back. He slowly reached over, her eyes on his hand, her growl
growing in volume.

"Easy
now. Easy."

He reached
over and threw an open can of salmon in her direction. She sat across the
fire and together they ate in silence.