by Ken Barrett
EXTINCTION – 1
Departure
by Ken Barrett
Cover Illustration by: J Caleb @ J Caleb Design
Copyright © 2018 Kenneth Barrett
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 9781980745150
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
For Mady.
You must have chaos in your soul
to give birth to a dancing star.
Friedrich Nietzsche
Contents
Part 1 – The Fall
Chapter 1: Tipping Point
Chapter 2: Just Another Day
Chapter 3: Just Another Night
Chapter 4: Worry
Chapter 5: Invasion
Chapter 6: Capture
Chapter 7: Death Camp
Chapter 8: The Long Walk
Part 2: The City
Chapter 9: Arrival
Chapter 10: Fitting In
Chapter 11: South
Chapter 12: Back Home
Chapter 13: Gambit
Chapter 14: Sacrifice
Chapter 15: Panic
Chapter 16: Pressure
Chapter 17: Progress
Chapter 18: Reunion
Chapter 19. Consolidation
Part 3: Siege
Chapter 20: Abandoned
Chapter 21: Retribution
Chapter 22: Surrender
Chapter 23: Deception
Chapter 24: Collapse
Chapter 25: Refuge
Chapter 26: Destiny
Afterword
About the Author
Part 1 – The Fall
In war, events of importance
are the result of trivial causes.
Julius Caesar
Chapter 1: Tipping Point
“You know, my grandpop once told me that it used to snow here in Colorado.” The young guard stood atop the city wall, enduring the heat and pounding rain. He glanced west toward the imposing granite mountain that towered over Pike City, and sadly shook his head. “Snow on the mountains, that must’ve been somethin’ to see.”
“Yeah, I heard them old stories too,” Ernie grumbled as water poured off his Kevlar helmet and flowed in unpleasant rivers down his back. “Ain’t hardly no one alive that still remembers what snow even looks like. Here we are in the middle of fuckin’ winter, and I’m sweatin’ my ass off.”
He shook his head to fling water off his helmet and shoulders; it didn’t provide much relief. Outside the wall, the charred and tumbled ruins of old Pike City stood vacant from decades of war. Black empty windows stared at them from the faces of ashen buildings. With an uneasy shrug he lifted the weight of his cumbersome laser rifle off his shoulder and lowered it to his hip; the L-80 was a bitch to haul around, but it would burn through a man in less than a nanosecond. It was awesome ordnance and he loved using it, but still the enemy was waiting out there somewhere, and he worried.
“I heard your grandpop fought in the War of the States.” The kid had a look of fawning adoration, his eyes were wide with wonder.
Ernie grunted and smiled in response. “Yeah, he did. Kicked out all them rich fancy-pants motherfuckers and brought justice to the rest of us.” He nodded. “My great-grandpop also fought in the Crusades here at home, and for two generations before that we were fightin’ religious terrorists in the Middle-East. War is our family business, you get me?”
“Sure, I gotta respect that!” The kid nodded toward the fractured remains of the city to the north. “So, what do you think of that shit?”
Before Ernie could respond a whistle blew signifying the end of their shifts. “Well, I think it ain’t our problem anymore.” He slung the L-80 back over his shoulder and headed for the stairs that would take them down to the city street below. “For what it’s worth, we shoulda burned down everything to the north and east, ‘cause sooner or later, that’s the way the Tribes will come at us; them old buildings will give ‘em cover, and that ain’t a good thing.”
“Do you think the mountain savages are gonna attack us?”
“Yeah, I do. By the old Gods, those fuckers smoked Denver and drove our army down here to Pike City.” Ernie scowled. “Fuckin’ Tribes got us on the run; besides us here, we only got two cities left. We got the factories down in Phoenix, and then there’s Spokane, but from what I’ve heard, there ain’t been a peep from them in months.” He shook his head. “Yeah, the savages will come for us, it’s just a matter of time.”
Several other guards joined them as they descended the stairs to the street. From below he heard the voices of his comrades chatting happily and celebrating the end of their shifts. Ernie was looking forward to the night; first he’d catch a hot shower and a shave, then have dinner with his buddies at the base canteen. A good meal and a few beers while shooting the shit was just what he needed to make the day worthwhile.
“Hey, what’s that?” The kid pointed at something small and white that was moving along the sidewalk beneath the store awnings; none of the soldiers below had noticed it.
Ernie lifted his L-80 and peered through the scope. Terrorists working for the Tribes were known to be in the city, so it didn’t pay to take chances. His finger hovered near the trigger as he scanned the area; he saw a quick flash of white and spun with his weapon ready, but it was gone before he could get it in the cross-hairs. Damn. His body tingled with excitement; it would be fuckin’ awesome to bag a terrorist before going off duty.
He needed to get down to street level to see beneath the awnings. With his weapon held ready he rapidly descended the stairs in practiced form, keenly watching through the scope for signs of movement. Something white moved at the edge of the scope’s vision and with his finger on the trigger he turned, ready to fire.
“It’s a dog!” the kid shouted. “Crap, I ain’t seen a real dog in years.”
“Could be a trick,” Ernie warned. At the bottom of the stairs the other troops had raised their rifles warily.
“Wait, don’t shoot!” one of the men below said urgently. “That ain’t just a dog, that’s the old woman’s bitch.”
“Oh shit,” Ernie uttered as he lowered his weapon. The only person in Pike City wealthy and powerful enough to have a pet of any kind was ‘Dear Mother’, Chancellor Margaret Williams. If he had killed her dog the old bat would have had him crucified and fed to the crows; but on the other hand, if he were to return it to her, a hefty reward was likely; maybe he would even get a promotion.
He put the L-80 on safety and descended to the street. “What’s its name?” he asked the kid while slinging his weapon over his shoulder so it hung down his back.
“Some kinda flower name,” the kid answered. “Bloom maybe?”
“No, Blossom… that’s it, I remember now,” Ernie replied as he slowly walked toward the dog. It was a little white ball of fluff, a completely useless creature utterly dependent on its owner for survival. Away from the city it wouldn’t last five minutes on its own. The creature had a sharply pointed nose, coal black eyes, and triangular ears that pricked upward at the sound of its name.
“Blossom… come on girl. Come on over and I’ll get you back to where you belong.” Ernie bit his lip, this had to go right; if he succeeded the reward could be huge, but if he fucked up the old woman would send him to her Nurse, and no one ever returned whole or sane after that.
He dropped to his knees, hoping to seem like a less intimidating figure. “Come on you useless piece of shit,” he said in the sweetest sing-song voice he could manage. “Get your ass over here so I can take you home.”
Blos
som wiggled her tail and trotted toward him; its willingness to trust a total stranger was sickening. The world was a wild and dangerous place; the time of old lady lap dogs had long since passed. He scooped the little animal up into his arms. “Hah, I got you,” he said gently.
A few other troops were starting to gather around, a few of them slapped him on the shoulder celebrating his good fortune. Ernie stood up and walked back into the throng of his companions. “Someone carry my L-80 back to the barracks for me. Think I’ll take my new little friend over to the Council Building and collect my reward.”
As the men laughed, Blossom suddenly exploded.
Ernie and his comrades felt a flash of heat and a fleeting moment of violence and pain as their bodies were ripped apart. Arms, legs, heads, and torsos flew high in the air, painting the inside of the city wall with bloody gore and burning chunks of wet meat. Further down the street body parts fell like rain, splashing in puddles as they came apart on the cracked wet tarmac.
The noise of the blast echoed through the city and smoke filled the air. Screams of bystanders rang out as they retreated into the tenements and storefronts that lined the edge of the road; no one knew if the attack was over, or just beginning.
*****
“Well, we’re screwed big time,” Chancellor Margaret Williams muttered as she exited the Council Chamber and quickly strode across the cavernous lobby. The polished dark granite floor echoed under her clacking footsteps. Her Pomeranian, Blossom, trotted behind her; she could hear the rapid cadence of her little dog’s toenails clicking on the hard surface.
Margaret was dressed in pale blue slacks, with a white ruffled top beneath a matching blue blazer that hung from her thin shoulders. Her dyed yellow hair stiffly curved downward, stopping just below the nape of her neck; her coiffure barely moved as she turned her head inquisitively to see who else was out and about between government meetings.
Her reflection caught in the glass expanse that covered the front of the City Council Building; upon seeing herself she smiled; not bad for 71 years old. She was still physically spry and didn’t weigh a gram more than she did when she was 40. The facelift helped keep her mostly wrinkle free; although admittedly she had a wide-eyed look, but that often came in handy when she needed to stare down a subordinate that wasn’t living up to her expectations.
The council meeting had been about the increasing solar activity that the NOAA observatory in Flatiron City was monitoring. The shit was about to hit the fan and they weren’t nearly ready. Solar flares, coronal mass ejections… it was all gobbledygook to her, fancy words that meant that the Sun was about to blow its top and kill everyone on Earth. Fuck, what a mess.
Across the lobby she saw Julee Garcia, the Director of Technology, chatting with one of her lapdog scientists. That girl needed to get her act together pronto because their plan to escape extinction depended on her department producing reliable Fusion Reactors, and so far, they were failing miserably. It was time to light a fire under the aging Latina, because nothing was going to prevent Margaret from saving her people.
Julee flinched under her cold gaze, and she smiled inwardly. Good, she needs to be afraid, because fear is the most powerful of motivators. She stepped away from the window and quickly crossed the lobby; as she approached, Julee’s lapdog scurried away. Good, this needs to be a private conversation. “Tell me something that will make me happy,” she ordered.
Julee’s tan complexion flushed at her cheeks. “Well, my department still hasn’t made any headway; we just don’t have enough expertise in Materials Science, but we may have other options.”
She glared steadily at the younger woman. At just 45 years old, the short and stocky Latina already had streaks of gray in her hair. Maybe the stress of her job was getting to her. “So, tell me about these options,” Margaret ordered.
Julee pursed her lips. “We’ve received a message from the university at Flatiron City. One of their scientists claims to have solved the plasma containment and power extraction issues.”
“Flatiron? That fucking free city that will work for anyone?”
“Yes. I thought that we might open a contract with them to help solve our problem.” Julee sighed. “Otherwise, this fellow, Ron Castro is his name, would like to come here and work for us.”
“Huh,” Margaret grunted. “I don’t like that. They’re a bunch of bohemians that sit around smoking marijuana all day, and yet they somehow manage to think they’re smarter and better than everyone else. Having one of them working at our tech center might cause sedition.”
“In his communique Ron seemed to be very pro-socialist, and he claims that his fusion reactors could run for hundreds maybe even thousands of years,” Julee said. “Also, their university has proven expertise; they were able to navigate our probe through interdimensional space to the Trappist-1 star system when we couldn’t.”
“Huh, yes, I suppose that’s true.” Margaret tapped her foot in agitation; what did it say about Socialism when they couldn’t innovate scientifically? The dependency on others made their society look weak, and that was something she would not tolerate for long. “So, now there’s some yahoo in Flatiron that claims to have a solution for long term fusion power; ok, let’s see if we can get them both.”
“Both?” Julee asked. “Ron’s the only one that’s offered to come here and work with us. We don’t even know the name of the navigation specialist.”
Margaret gazed at her subordinate steadily. “Julee, we need these geeks down here. Our project is too sensitive to have any of it reach the ears of the mountain Tribes. It’s not just our future, but that of all human kind that rests on this. Failure is not an option.” She smiled kindly and placed a warm hand on the younger woman’s shoulder. Sometimes it’s best to sleeve an iron fist in a velvet glove. “Do whatever you need to; bribe or kidnap them if that’s what it takes; just get it done. We’re all counting on you.”
Somewhere outside of the building a whistle blew, signifying the end of shift for the men guarding the city wall. She glanced toward the window and wondered how much longer they could hold out against the Tribes. So much beauty, art, and culture would vanish if their city fell; the world would fall into anarchy and humanity would never rise again. “Just make it happen Julee,” Margaret whispered. “If you need military support just let me know; I’ll have Robert send the Army. No price is too high to pay.”
The building abruptly shook, and a moment later the massive glass windows rattled as clouds of dust driven by the force of the blast met them. The lobby instantly silenced as everyone stood fearfully, worrying that the savages were about to attack. Outside, ashes fell from the sky and sirens began to wail, signifying that emergency services were being sent to the source of the blast.
It was just a bomb then; at least there was that. What a chilling world it was; when a terrorist bomb was the better option compared to the coming invasion they all feared. Margaret turned away from Julee and slowly approached the lobby windows. It was a dark day, with low clouds and pounding rain, so there wasn’t much to see.
In the courtyard outside the building stood the statue of her late husband Samuel, savior of them all. He had sacrificed himself for the sake of the people when Denver fell to the Tribal army back in ’96. As everyone else fled south toward Pike City, Samuel had stayed behind to salvage what remained of the art and beauty that lingered in the city’s neglected museums. His legacy lived on though; most of what he saved adorned the Council Building where she stood.
Once they were safe behind the walls of Pike City, she had commissioned the tribute to her beautiful husband. The people still loved him all these years later and often left flowers at the feet of his effigy; it was a touching thing they did to honor such a great man. But the figure didn’t actually look very much like Samuel, it was too stiff and formal, but memorials rarely resembled those they were intended to honor.
Movement at the side of the statue caught her eye; it was a little white dog; Blossom? What was she d
oing outside? They had attended the tedious council meeting together as usual, what was she doing out there? Oh good. One of the soldiers was slowly approaching her puppy, and Margaret smiled with relief. Blossom would be safely back in her arms in just a few moments.
The guard gently picked up her little dog and held her tenderly in his arms. The people of the city loved their leaders so much; it was clearly evident in the way the man held her dog. She would reward him for his compassion; perhaps better quarters or even a rank advancement was in order. Other soldiers were gathering around Blossom’s rescuer, they seemed to be congratulating him for his good deed.
Margaret hurried toward the door that would lead her outside, anxious to hold her beloved pet in her arms. Then Blossom, the guard that held her, and all of the soldiers around them, abruptly vanished into a red fog. An instant later all the glass at the front of the Council Building shattered.
She felt no pain, only confusion, as she was thrown backwards like a rag doll across the lobby. Broken glass and gloppy red chunks of meat surrounded her as she flew through the air, and then she was lying on the floor, covered in gore and shards of glass. Julee’s deeply concerned face suddenly hovered over her. The younger woman’s mouth moved, but she couldn’t hear anything the girl said; had she gone deaf?
As Julee helped her to her feet, Margaret noticed that her little dog was safe. Blossom had been inside the whole time; but what had she seen outside? Still confused, she allowed Julee to lead her to the wide curving staircase that led to the second floor, where she could sit down and collect herself. A doctor arrived a moment later, but Julee remained.
Margaret’s hearing was starting to return by the time the doctor finished with his infernal poking and prodding. “What happened?” she asked the Technology Director. “What was that? What happened to Blossom?”