The Apocalypse Watch

by J Foster Ward

  Milan shuddered.

  “Listen, I remember from the map there should be a meeting room nearby, and if there is that means we’re near a small arms locker. We get there, load up on enough guns to kill a herd of dinosaurs, then finish the mission. Understand?”

  “I’m not an idiot,” she muttered. “Let’s go get the guns.”

  The next room past the kennel was in fact designated as TEEMING RUM FIV and one glance showed it had been entirely burnt out, nothing but melted lumps of plastec furnishings in the charred interior. That meant the small arms locker had to be around the next bend.

  As they went around the corridor Jake froze. The door to the small arms locker was intact, but open, and there was firelight in the doorway. Moving shadows. Someone was in there.

  “What do we do?” Milan whispered harshly in his ear, holding his arm in a death grip.

  “Stay here. If I die, try to find your way back to Delta module and we’ll try again.”

  “If you die, I’m cutting my throat and meeting you in the clone tanks,” she said, serious.

  Jacob drew the shotgun revolver and kept the flashlight in his left hand. Then he stepped inside.

  When you meet the descendants of humanity after the long fall into darkness that follows an apocalypse you pray, they are not mutated cannibals with bones through their noses, roasting flesh over an open flame. But that’s exactly what Jacob found, and it reminded him why he never bothered to pray.

  The central podium of the metal shelving-unit molded to the floor was still there, identical to the arms lockers in the other modules, but this one had been gutted, the drawers ripped out and the flat top used as some sort of primitive altar, decorated with skulls, bloody body parts, tallow candles, sacrificial knives, bowls and fetishes made up of animal hides, hair and plant bundles. But Jacob didn’t have time to focus on that.

  Crouched praying at the bloody shrine were three humans – no – humanoids, around a low brazier with smoldering coals cooking unidentifiable bits of meat still on the bone. The red glow of the grub lanterns made the entire scene look like something out of Dante, and Jake had a moment’s crawling horror. Was this what waited for them on the surface? Had the entire world devolved into savagery and human sacrifice?

  Two of the humanoids wore patched-together crude armor made of scavenged material from inside the bunker and the third an animal-hide robe decorated with body parts and bones. But that wasn’t the worst thing about the three men. They were twisted. Half-man and half mutant horrorshow. Monsters. One of the armoured figures was facing Jake and he had a chance to get a good look at him.

  He… it… seemed to be clad in a suit made from sections of metal plates sewn to a ragged blue jumpsuit, with a primitive axe near to hand and some sort of pistol on a lanyard around his neck. He had the arms and chest of a gorilla, and a thick neck supporting a flat face with a broad nose. It looked like pictures Jake had seen as a kid of Neanderthals reconstructed from their skeletal remains. But the mutant had incredibly small eyes, like shrivelled raisins that blinked and squinted up from the meat it was tearing with his shark-like teeth.

  The gorilla-man had a moment to blink in confusion as he looked up at Jacob, trying to make sense of what he saw, and Jacob started shooting before the very nature of their existence could assault his mind any further. He brought the shotgun in line and blasted an acid-dripping hole through the mutant just as it was reaching for the gun holstered across its chest.

  As the noise of the shot, the other two creatures startled. The very dead mutant tumbled forward, crashing into the cooking grill. And in that spare second, Jacob stepped closer to be sure he wouldn’t miss. The second figure to rise turned and Jake saw it wore a jacket and pants of leather sewn with hundreds of tiny metal disks, over a ragged vest of purple fur. It was like the first gorilla-man except bigger. Its mouth was hanging open in shock, shreds of mystery meat dangling from shark teeth. Tiny raisin eyes wide in surprise but he was already reaching for a metal tube of some kind holstered on his leg. Jake had to assume it was a weapon.

  “Fuck you, you colossal sacks of horrible mutations!” Jake yelled and aimed again.

  Something struck him from nowhere, and he staggered back, winded.

  Jacob swung the revolver on instinct, brought his third target in line with the barrel, and fired. But as his finger squeezed the trigger the world was hit by a semi-visible wave spreading outwards from the robed monster. Like the ripple across the surface of a disturbed pond. And time…

  …slowed.

  Jacob was perfectly aware of the hammer on the revolver taking a long moment to fall. And another stretched-out moment while the shell ignited and the corrosion pellets spewed out of the barrel in a blast of green light, slow enough to watch as they spread out into a cone through the air. Unable to comprehend how, Jake watched as the projectiles halted, then hung there.

  The third cannibal was smaller than the other two. Like them he was muscular, lantern-jawed and had long arms, but his skin was orange and pebbled like lizard hide. Instead of a tangle of long, wild hair, the sides of his head were shaved, and was formed into a kindof spiky crest. His face seemed bent in concentration and with physical effort, hand shaking like he was lifting an incredible weight, the little man swept his arm sideways.

  Jake, his revolver, and the acid gel pellets all slammed the same direction, colliding with the wall of the sacrificial chamber. The blow hurt, but Jake stayed on his feet. Brought the gun up for another shot, but by then the other mutant had charged forward with the short metal rod in one hand. With a touch of a button the end of the rod seemed to glow with a light-bending invisible force and then the mutant slammed it into Jake’s elbow.

  The flash-crack was like a gigantic snap of an electrical spark, only instead of a burn mark, Jake’s arm exploded at the elbow, dropping the hand with the revolver to the floor. He heard Milan screaming.

  “Oh fuck!” he said, before another invisible blow struck him so hard, he heard his own ribs crackle like wooden skewers and then the pain was over and there was blackness.

  ***

  “Five points have been deducted from your insurance for two violent deaths in the same 24-hour period,” he heard Circe say. “Oh Jake, what did they do to you?”

  “I have to go back,” he groaned, not even looking around. “I have to kill those fuckers.”

  “Not like this you aren’t,” Circe said. “Jake, too many deaths in too short a time can cause irreparable brain damage. Especially violent deaths. You’ll go crazy.”

  “I can take it.”

  Jake climbed from what was some sort of deeply padded chair. He was in the virtual loading screen. It was a luxury apartment, or maybe a boardroom of some kind. One entire wall of the large room was a glass window made from a single sheet of transparent plastec, at such an angle he could lean out and look straight down. A single huge table dominated the middle of the space, and strange and succulent plants he didn’t recognise bordered the room. A single piece of three-dimensional art made from what looked like sapphire filaments hung in the air without any wires supporting it. Beyond the glass of the window was a city of skyscrapers hidden by blankets of soft white cloud.

  A woman crossed the floor of the boardroom, high heels clicking on the polished stone. She was dressed from the 21st century and it seemed out of place. Fitted suit jacket, pencil skirt, stockings. Then he saw her face. Good god, Circe had outdone herself: it was Nathalie Burns. One-time co-worker and full-time hottie.

  She was petite. Slim. With huge, pretty eyes, and the wide, mobile lips were formed into the semi-permanent knowing smirk he’d grown so used to seeing on Nat’s face. He had to stop himself from grinning at her and immediately felt a warm glow of familiarity. Reminded himself it was Circe, projecting his memory at Nat.

  “That’s what Squad Leader Cockfiend said. You remember what happened to him, don’t you?” Nat said.

  Jake snapped out of it. “Cockfiend? I thought he came out of the tank c
razy already.”

  “No Jake, Cool Breeze instructed me to warm him up for several missions about fifty years ago. That was before the Alpha module was breached, but Cockfiend made several sorties to the surface. Cockfiend never came back alive from any of them.”

  “Geezus, stop saying ‘cockfiend’!” Jake blurted.

  “Sorry Jake. And you’re going to have to stay here for at least one standard day; if I accelerate your time perception, I should be able to fit it into an hour of real-time.”

  “An hour is too long!”

  “I refuse to go any faster! I won’t endanger your mind!”

  “Listen, Circe, some godawful mutant cannibals have Milan. Who knows what they’ll do to her! I have to get back, now.”

  “Oh?” Circe said coldly. “Is Milan so important to you?”

  Oh god, was this AI jealous?

  “As a matter of fact, I kinda hate her.” But did he? Somewhere along the way he’d started to almost like the stuck-up 23rd century socialite. “But she’ll be lucky if all they do is murder her. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

  A holographic image of a brain formed in the air between them. Parts of it were cool blue, but a spreading pattern of yellow, turning to orange and even red was staining it.

  “Jake, this is your brain! You’re reaching breaking point!”

  Jake sobered at the sight of what madness actually looked like. “There has to be some way to speed things up. Make it heal faster.”

  “No. Only time. Except…”

  “Except what?”

  “Well, it’s unproven, but I have noticed a certain technique is remarkably successful at reducing your psychotrauma. Here’s a recording of the last time we did it.”

  A second brain hologram appeared, only on this one the damaged areas faded as he watched, turning a happy green and finally blue.

  “Whatever that is, I’ll do it,” he said. “Right away.”

  “Oh Jake, I thought you’d never ask,” Circe said, and strode forward to press her body against his, leaning up to kiss him.

  What the? Oh!

  Oh?

  Well, as medical treatments went, this wasn’t so bad. He let himself hold her tight. Kiss her.

  For six glorious months he and Nat had worked together on a project, putting in stupidly long hours at the office. They’d ended up becoming friends, her easygoing nature and twisted sense of humor made her irresistible, even though she avoided friendships with almost everyone else. She had a way of telling the most tragic stories about her life with a smile and made you laugh.

  And once, at the end of the project, they’d both been drunk at the office Christmas party and dry humped in a stairwell for half an hour, unable to stop themselves from making out like a couple of teenagers.

  Then two weeks later she’d left the company and he never saw her again.

  But now, here, in his arms, was the woman of those memories. She looked up at him with those big eyes and she was hungry.

  “I want you. So badly. I always have. From the moment I met you,” she said.

  In moments they were skin to skin, not even bothering to completely undress in their haste; shirts undone, slacks around his knees and her skirt hiked up. Her body was slim, pale, and yet with streamlined curves, like one of those expensive, compact, European sports cars. They explored with mouths and hands, and Jake’s fingers slid into her cunt so easily he knew she was dripping wet for him.

  “Wait, wait I have a surprise for you.” Nat was on her back on the boardroom table but placed both hands on his chest until he stopped just as he was about to enter her with his cock.

  With a strange bit of virtual-world magic, one of the huge, upholstered boardroom chairs slowly swivelled to reveal a figure seated in it. A woman, bound hand and foot, mouth filled with a ball gag. It was his ex-wife, Meredith.

  “I want her to watch me while I fuck your brains out,” Natalie said, impish grin on her face.

  Meredith struggled against her bonds. She was trying to say something, and by the looks of it, that was nothing complimentary, her face full of outrage.

  “Quiet down and enjoy the show,” Nat said and turned her attention back to Jake. “Fuck me, hard,” she said huskily.

  Jake gripped her under the hips, tilted her body up to meet him, and slid his iron hard erection into her waiting cunt. She matched his groaning shiver of desire as he filled her, and for a moment they stayed locked that way. Was he even more turned on by the impossible catharsis of cuckolding his harridan of an ex-wife? He didn’t know. Didn’t care.

  As Nat lay back on the boardroom table, he held her by the hips and pounded into her. He heard her voice rising into a telltale pitch and as she thrashed, trying to find purchase on the polished surface with her hands. He drove her over the edge of passion, and she came hard.

  But it only seemed to energize Nat. She met his eyes with complete lust and pushed herself up, wrapped her arms around his neck and clamped her legs around his thighs. Jake lifted her without effort. Standing, her ass balanced on the edge of the table, they fucked face to face, her eyes locked on his until she again began to moan and gave a shocked cry of surprise as she worked up to another orgasm. Her little body shook, nails digging into his shoulders, and cunt pulsing around him as she rode hard.

  Both of them collapsed on the table together. He was still rock hard inside her, and could have kept going, but the sight of her panting, limp body, lost in ecstasy affected him at some deeper level. He leaned close to kiss her and she smiled, trying to find his mouth with eyes closed. For a moment Jake froze, watching her, wishing the moment could never end.

  He’d always suspected he’d fallen for Nat – the real Nat – in those six months. And the longing mixed with warmth at being close to her again only confirmed it.

  “Oh baby, that was incredible,” Natalie purred. Her gaze went sideways, and she smirked. “Look at those eyes! That bitch is furious.”

  Jake tried to make himself feel bad about betraying the virtual memory of his ex-wife but found himself coming up empty on sympathy.

  “What’s wrong, honey?” Nat was taunting his ex. “Jake told me how you wouldn’t fuck him for weeks at a time. And he even told me how you couldn’t make him come giving head.”

  The virtual replica of Meredith struggled at her ropes and tried to scream something at them, but it only came out as unintelligible noise through the gag.

  “Jake? Did your wife ever give you anal?”

  In fact he’d only suggested it one time. And Meredith had given him an hour-long lecture about how all the girls in porn were drug addicts and victims of dirty old men exploiting their youth for profit.

  “She sure did not,” Jake said.

  “Mmmm, I’d like to try it with you, Jake. Right here. I want you to fuck me in the ass and make her watch what she was missing.”

  “Are… are you sure?” he asked, hesitating. Did Circe know what she was asking for?

  “I want to feel your cock in my tight asshole, baby.”

  And with that Nat rolled over onto her stomach and lifted her ass in the air, looking back at him with that mischievous smirk.

  Jake decided he was done questioning his luck. Climbing on the table behind her he slid the head of his cock across her sopping wet cunt and found the wetness had already spread everywhere, leaving her back door slippery as oil on linoleum. Finding her opening with his cock, he eased up against it, sliding back and forth, and feeling her relax a bit more each time. Then with deliberate, slow pressure he drove forward into her ass.

  “Oh my god!” Nat’s eyes flew open, her mouth a shocked ‘O’ of surprise. “Mmmmm, w-what? Why would humans do this!”

  She yelled in pain but by then Jake was all the way inside her. He didn’t move, and let Nat slowly adjust, moment by moment, until the tension had left her body and she lay with her cheek on the surface of the table, shivering.

  When he slowly began fucking her again, she let out a series of whimpers. “Be gentl
e Jake! Baby! Please be gentle! I didn’t know… ohhhh.”

  He tried, lord knew he tried, but the tight backside of the virtual girl was driving him insane with pleasure. He started slowly, but in moments he couldn’t keep from speeding up, plunging in and out of her ass.

  But the faster he went the more the virtual AI girl began to moan in delight. Until she was almost thrusting back against him.

  “Oh yes,” she moaned through her teeth. “Now I understand! Yes like that!”

  Jake couldn’t help it. Gripping her narrow hips, he pounded her hard until he felt himself emptying inside her, with a spasm of groaning delight. Natalie responded with her own moans and when he collapsed on top of her they lay panting, equally satisfied.

  They stayed that way a long minute, until Natalie bit her lip, smiled that smile, and looked up.

  “Well, that shut her up.”

  Meredith was wide-eyed and perfectly still in the chair. Staring at them in amazement.

  “And I think that we just cured you, too.”

  Another glance at the floating hologram of his brain and it had returned to cool blue, with a few spidery lines of green. Jake blinked back to the reality of his situation. The virtual worlds Circe made were so seductive, it would have been easy to stay. But out there, right now, monsters, mutants and cannibals were trying to destroy the entire bunker.

  “Circe, you said you could customize my skill imprinting, yes?”

  “Of course.”

  “I have something I need you to do for me.”

  ***

  Chapter 5

  : Barefoot

  He came out of the platinum service decanting bath disoriented. Instead of the warm, comforting room he’d seen last time it was cold and lit only by emergency strips along the floor. Somewhere, distantly, there was a slow, lonely whoop of an alarm.

  He snorted gel out of his nose and crawled out of the tub.