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

by Mike Kraus

  Leonard McComb

  7:00 PM, April 1, 2038

  Leonard gunned the engine on the Jeep and flicked on the headlights. The twin beams lit up the creature, turning it into a disco ball of reflections. Leonard drove parallel to the parking lot, gaining as much speed as possible to get away from the creature. As he passed it, the creature starting moving towards him, walking slowly at first, then quickly picking up speed. Its massive legs thundered across the ground, the large bare feet propelling it effortlessly over pavement and debris like there was nothing in its way.

  Leonard skidded around a corner, tires squealing on the pavement as he approached the intersection of the beltway and the main interstate heading south. Up ahead, about a mile away, an enormous pile of rubble met his eyes, the result of the collapse of this section of the beltway overpasses. Behind him, in the rearview window, Leonard could see the creature running after him, picking up speed with each step.

  With only minutes to find an escape before he became trapped between the creature pursuing him and the rubble ahead, Leonard did the only thing that came to mind. Kicking the Jeep into two-wheel drive, he gunned the engine again, using the extra power to bring the Jeep up to top speed. In several sections of the collapse, large pieces of pavement were still intact, lying at odd angles on the ground. One such section, to the far left side of the collapse, was positioned in such a way that it lay nearly perpendicular to the path he was taking. It had just a slight enough angle that, if he could manage to get the Jeep up onto it, he could use the length of the section to travel most of the way over the collapse. There was still a good ten feet of empty air after the end of the section, though, well short of the grass and dirt on the other side.

  Leonard gripped the steering wheel, sweat pouring down his face as he concentrated on his goal. The bouncing of the headlights made it difficult to steer properly, and it was dark enough now that he could barely see anything that wasn’t directly in front of him. In just a couple of minutes he was directly in front of the collapse, with the section of collapsed roadway just to his left. He slammed on the brakes, sliding the Jeep around to bring it in line with the pavement, then slammed it into four-wheel drive again. The body of the Jeep shook in protest, but Leonard felt the wheels engage and he pressed down on the gas, spurring the Jeep over the short climb to get on to the collapsed roadway section.

  Leonard glanced over to his left as the Jeep bounced onto the collapsed overpass. The creature was a fair distance behind, but still moving rapidly towards him, casting a long shadow across the rubble. No man he had ever seen or heard of had ever moved as quickly as that thing was moving. The gait was long and powerful, and Leonard could hardly believe that it was barefoot, too. Whatever that thing is, it’s not a man anymore.

  Leonard pushed the Jeep forward, struggling to get it back up to speed before he ran out of road. The section of pavement was long, but not long enough. If he didn’t get the Jeep going fast enough off the end of it, the small distance it had left to travel would seem like infinity when the Jeep smashed into the rubble of the collapse instead of bouncing harmlessly off the grass on the other side.

  Almost there, he thought, gritting his teeth and squeezing the wheel so hard he thought it might snap. The engine of the Jeep roared as it tore through the gears, the speedometer creeping upwards. 30, 35, 40, 45… come on, faster! Leonard was so focused on the speed of the Jeep that he forgot to watch the road. All of a sudden, the noise of the pavement disappeared and the engine redlined, no longer forced to fight the friction of the road surface.

  As if it was happening in slow motion, Leonard looked over the side of the Jeep out the left window and saw the rubble of the collapse just a few feet below. Time slowed as the Jeep flew forward, heading exactly where he wanted it to go. The only question on his mind was whether or not it was going fast enough to make it.

  When the Jeep twisted and turned as it slammed on the ground, Leonard thought for sure the end had come. This is it. I’m going to crash and end up with a broken back and that thing is going to tear me apart. Miraculously, though, this was not to be the case. As the Jeep landed, all but one part of the body of the Jeep landed square on the ground: the hitch receiver in the back. Caught on a piece of rebar, the unstoppable force of the Jeep’s forward momentum had pulled the piece of rebar out of the pavement, flinging it forward and embedding it into the back bumper, making the entire vehicle shake violently.

  Leonard gave a huge gasp as he expelled the air he didn’t even realize he was holding for the last sixty seconds. With the way clear ahead, he kept his foot on the gas, bouncing along through the open field until he found a spot to drive back on to the highway heading south. After a few miles, Leonard slowed the Jeep to a crawl and looked behind him through the murky darkness. There was no sign of the creature that he could see, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Whatever kind of unholy union of man and beast it was, Leonard didn’t know and didn’t care. The fact that it was chasing him with such vigor was disturbing, but the fact that it was associated with the kind of silver mass he saw in the processing station made it seem all the more frightening.

  Marcus Warden

  12:07 AM, April 1, 2038

  A tiny spot of light bobbed up and down in a fast, steady rhythm along the highway. Night had fallen, and the speck of light moved forward at a moderate pace, occasionally stopping when its beam hit upon an obstacle in its path.

  As Marcus drew closer to the place where highway 29 and interstate 64 met, he noticed a steady increase in the damage to the area. Though it was hard to see in the darkness, the flashlight that he had tied to the front of his bike revealed that the road was becoming more dangerous. Instead of just having to deal with the wreckage of cars, he saw an increase in the damage to the road itself, with larger and larger cracks growing more frequent. Fallen trees were also becoming a regular sight, with their spindly branches hanging over into the interstate, making it difficult to ride safely without running into them.

  Pedaling at a snail’s pace now, Marcus kept one hand on the bike while the other angled the flashlight upwards at a road sign that was overhead.

  EXIT 121 – CHARLOTTESVILLE was written in white lettering against the dark green background. I guess this is my exit, he thought. Up ahead, no more than a few hundred feet, he saw the telltale signs of an overpass, half of which was broken away. Marcus stopped the bike and hopped off, releasing the flashlight and holding it high above his head to get a better view.

  The overpass that took I-64 over Highway 29 was severely damaged, as was most of the surrounding area. Though it was dark, Marcus could see that both sides of the overpass had collapsed, with only a thin strip of concrete and rebar still standing to connect the two sides together. In the distance, off to the north, Marcus saw faint wisps of smoke rising into the night sky, with soft orange glows flickering across the horizon, the telltale sign that the city had suffered a direct hit. Marcus neared the overpass, wheeling the bike alongside him, and peered cautiously over the edge, afraid to get too close for fear of causing the piece he was standing on to break off, sending him falling thirty feet into the darkness below.

  Marcus panned the flashlight around and sighed. With most of the trees collapsed, there was no higher point than where he was. Being on the interstate made him feel exceptionally vulnerable, but the only alternative would be to go back a few miles and try to climb up on a billboard or something similar. “Whatever,” he sighed, “This’ll have to do for the night.” Marcus had seen no sign of any other creatures since the cavern experience. Though he wasn’t particularly looking forward to trying to sleep tonight, he was tired enough that he needed to at least try and rest. “There’s no way I’m getting past this in the dark anyway,” he muttered, frustrated by both his tiredness and the obstacle in his way.

  Marcus leaned the bike up against a nearby car that had overturned on the interstate several feet from the edge of the drop-off. Just behind it, another car was upright, and he walked over to it
to see if he could break in and spend the night in the seats. It was an older minivan, and the back looked big enough that he could squeeze in and sleep relatively comfortably. It beats the asphalt and concrete, at least.

  With the front windows already broken out, it was a simple matter for Marcus to unlock the doors and pop open the back hatch. He crawled into the back, pushing aside shopping bags filled with trinkets and toys and shoved his backpack up against the seats. With the far back set of seats in the van already lowered into the floor, he had just enough room inside to stretch his legs out diagonally inside the back if he leaned up against the side panel. Instead of shutting the back hatch all the way, Marcus left it cracked enough that he could push it open and jump out if need be.

  After a quick bite to eat, Marcus closed his eyes and leaned back, shifting a few times to find a comfortable position. He snickered quietly. Tonight was supposed to be lobster night at the Pavilion, he thought. What a world.

  Rachel Walsh

  11:18 PM, April 3, 2038

  With a steady combination of pushing the handcar and moving it along with the lever, Rachel finally arrived in the outskirts of Raleigh. It was late in the night, though the sky was glowing orange from the few fires that were still raging inside the city. Rachel felt exhausted but didn’t want to risk sleeping when she was this close to a city that she knew nothing about. As the handcar slowly rolled across the tracks, Rachel kept it moving with one slow, steady hand while the other held a flashlight. Rachel pierced the darkness ahead with the light, keeping a wary eye out for any disruptions on the tracks. Then, as they rounded a bend in the track, on the approach to the main rail station on the southern side of the city, Rachel spotted what she had feared since they started out on the tracks.

  Up ahead, beyond the rail station, instead of seeing a smooth set of rails continue through the city, Rachel saw only twisted steel and deep craters. Some type of secondary explosion or large piece of debris had to have hit the area, damaging the tracks and rendering them unusable. Rachel sighed in frustration. She had expected this eventuality, but it was still an incredible annoyance to have put so much work into getting the handcar operational only to be forced to abandon it this far from her destination.

  Rachel slowed the handcar to a stop, a fair distance from the main rail station and even farther from where the damage to the tracks began. She jumped down and Sam remained still, watching her through tired eyes. He had ridden most of the way from Charlotte to Raleigh, but even the simple act of staying balanced on the makeshift platform on the handcar was enough to wear out even the toughest person or animal.

  “Stay, boy. I’m going on ahead to see how bad it is.” Rachel gave Sam a pat on the head and grabbed a bottle of water, forcing it into her back pocket in an uncomfortable lump. She grabbed a spare magazine for the AR-15 as well, then headed off, her flashlight cutting through the dim night as she stalked forward.

  Even though they were still on the outer edge of the city, it looked just as bad as Charlotte had when she had passed through. Raleigh had been at the epicenter of at least one bomb, and most of the city was still smoldering from the fires that had torn it apart from the center outwards. Across from the rail station, across several lanes of tracks, she saw dozens of train cars that had been thrown aside like children’s toys, smashed and jumbled together in an unbelievable heap.

  Up ahead, the scene grew worse. As Rachel drew closer to the platform she could see that it was in ruins, with the building almost completely collapsed in on itself. Though some of the debris spilled over onto the tracks, the main damage to the tracks themselves had come from some other source. As Rachel continued making her way forward she grew hopeful when she saw a piece of intact rail just past the station until she realized that it was just an isolated section. More damage appeared beyond, stretching far into the city as far as her light could reach. From what Rachel could tell, there would be no way to get the handcar through the city.

  With a sigh, Rachel turned around, getting ready to head back and collect Sam and her backpack. Then, in a flash, she heard it. Rachel instinctively dropped to the ground on her stomach, rolling up against the base of the rail station as she heard the faint yet unmistakable buzz of the silver swarms. She caught the noise only for a fraction of a second, and then it was gone so fast that – after a moment’s silence – she wasn’t sure she had heard it at all.

  Crap, crap, crap! Rachel fumed internally as she lay in the rough gravel, tucked up against the broken concrete and scattered debris near the rail station. Several minutes passed, and when Rachel still hadn’t heard the sound again, she stood up, scanning the area with her light for the telltale glimmer that she had expected to see.

  Throwing caution to the wind, Rachel decided to leave Sam and her belongings for the time being and continued forward into the city. If the silver masses were here, she needed to find out where they were and how many of them were here before she decided on the next move. Keeping a low profile, Rachel continued forward, her rifle slung up over her shoulder instead of out in front. Not like it’ll do any good, anyway.

  Nancy Sims

  8:29 AM, April 1, 2038

  For someone as insane as Richard was, he moved quickly, almost too quickly for James to follow. Richard ducked his head low and ran straight at James, deflecting the blade of the knife with his arm. James was prepared, though, and swung around Richard, adding a push to the man’s momentum to send him barreling even faster headfirst into a wooden support beam.

  Having momentarily dealt with Richard, James swung back around to face Joshua, stopping cold as he faced the barrel of a gun pointed squarely at his face. Joshua held the gun straight and level, his hand shaking ever so slightly as he pushed himself up with his free hand. He eyed Joshua with disdain and contempt.

  “I really hoped it wouldn’t come to something so crude, but you’ve left me no choice.” Nancy screamed as Joshua lowered the gun by a few inches and pulled the trigger, sending a round directly into James’ abdomen. James cried out in agony, but did not drop the knife or falter in his footing. Instead, he ran straight at Joshua, eyes ablaze in anger and revenge, the knife clenched firmly in his hand as he drove it straight into Joshua’s chest.

  Both men said nothing. Their faces were mere centimeters away from each other as they stared into one another’s eyes. One pair cold and dead, the other full of life and pain. James twisted the knife sharply in Joshua’s chest, sending the man into spasms as the blade plunged deeper into his chest cavity, finally touching his heart and tearing the tender flesh. Blood poured like a fountain out of the wound around the knife blade and James stepped back, watching as Joshua stumbled backwards, clutching at his chest with his dying breath.

  James ran to Nancy’s side, helping her up off the ground. He was bleeding from his stomach, and his white shirt was stained with deep crimson blood. Both he and Nancy glanced at Richard, still knocked out cold on the ground next to his brother.

  “I should finish him off,” coughed James, droplets of blood spraying from his mouth as he spoke.

  “Leave him! Let’s just get out of here!”

  In no condition to argue, James nodded, clutching his stomach wound and fighting to stay upright. Nancy put a shoulder under his right arm, helping him hobble towards and up the stairs.

  At the top of the staircase, they swung open a thick oak door, revealing the interior of the building that had served as their makeshift prison for the last two days. Just outside the top of the stairway they stood in a small dining room, with a living room to the right and a kitchen to the left. Curtains were open on all the windows, revealing rows of houses and trees out the back window.

  Nancy glanced around, then steered James through the kitchen and towards a side door of the house. They stumbled along as they went, knocking over chairs and pushing piles of garbage out of the way. When they reached the door, something caught Nancy’s eye, and she stopped, looking into the bathroom that was adjacent to the hall.

  T
he bathroom door was half open, and inside Nancy could see the bare legs of a woman, presumably the one who had been tied up in the basement with them. Blood was pooled around the woman’s legs and feet, and large sprays of blood covered the walls. Nancy shuddered and recoiled at the sight, but pushed open the door anyway, letting James lean against the wall for support. “Hold on a second, I need to see if she’s still alive!”

  Inside the bathroom the scene was grisly. The woman’s hands were still bound, tied around the toilet in the bathroom, holding her tightly face-down on the floor. She was naked and her mouth was bound with a thick rag that wrapped around the back of her head. The worst part, though, was the state of the woman’s body, which showed signs of horrific torture.

  The woman’s back, sides, arms and legs all had long, deep cuts in them, and there was an array of knives and saws scattered around her body, most of which were covered in dried blood. Nancy gagged at the sight, covering her mouth at nose. She leaned down and pushed at the woman’s leg a few times, getting no response, then stood up, backing slowly out the door. Who the hell would do something like this? Nancy could barely accept what she was seeing. There appeared to be no purpose or point in the torture except to inflict pain on the woman. She didn’t look like she had been violated, just tied down and flayed alive. Whatever kind of terrible things she thought about the two brothers who had taken them, she realized now that she had only imagined the tip of the iceberg. The true horror of what they were going to do to her was lying in front of her, too impossible and terrifying to believe.