The End

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The End Page 7

by Justin Chiang


  She’d stopped in a few grocery stores and gas station marts along the way. There was plenty of food out there, so much in fact, that she stopped carrying it with her at all since there was always something around the corner it seemed. This was the first time she regretted that decision. She’d hit a particularly long stretch of highway and hadn’t seen even a rest stop for most of the day. The vehicles she’d come upon were all dead as well. Either they were out of gas having idled for several days straight or their batteries were drained.

  She kept walking towards the buzzards. One of them flapped its wings as she got within ear shot of it but it kept eating its lunch. It was especially hot out now, normal for this time of year, but the intensity of it seemed extra unbearable without food and water. This time both buzzards flapped their wings. One looked at her and squawked then slowly they both flew off as she approached.

  Anna was shocked at what she saw. There on the ground was what remained of a human corpse. It was the first human she’d seen alive or dead since everything went down. It was lying face up (what was left of its face anyway), a man, younger than she was by the looks of his hands and style of his clothes. The body was pulverized and the pavement was wet with gore. You didn’t need to be a doctor to tell that this young man had hit the ground with incredible force. The impact was great enough to crack his skull open and split the seams of his jeans.

  Anna wanted to look away, the sight was ghastly, but this was the most important thing, the only thing short of the idling car in Memphis that pointed to her not being completely alone in this world. More disturbing than even that was the fact that she might now be in danger because one thing was for sure—this young man didn’t drop himself onto the highway.

  “Danger.”

  Anna jumped—literally—she leaped into the air like a startled cat when she heard the other voice.

  “Danger.”

  Anna looked around, “Who’s there? Where are you?”

  “Danger.”

  A shadow passed over her. Anna looked up but the sun was too bright to make out anything. The buzzards must be circling, waiting for her to leave so that they could finish their meal, she thought.

  “Danger. Danger. Danger. Danger. Danger. Danger….”

  The voice was human, no question there, but she noticed it sounded like the GPS she used when she was taking clients around to look for houses. Only she’d never heard a GPS say anything other than directions.

  “Danger. Danger. Danger. Danger. Danger. Danger….”

  She half expected the fucking thing to call her Will Robinson the way it sounded. The voice was muffled too, like it was being filtered by something. The shadow passed over her again. Several shadows this time—but her attention was on the bulge in the young man’s pocket. It was one of those smart phones she’d almost bought herself last Christmas but she just couldn’t see replacing her old reliable flip phone for no good reason so she’d passed.

  “Danger. Danger. Danger. Danger. Danger. Danger….”

  Was it getting louder now? She thought as she reached down and began prying it from his pocket. The sky was mostly shadow now but she didn’t notice. She picked up the phone and pushed the single button on its front. The screen flashed and instructed her to slide to unlock but before she could even do that, in the phones reflective surface she caught a glimpse of what was causing the sudden darkness.

  A swarm of what looked like winged children was circling her overhead like buzzards. Anna whipped around and gaped at the sky. She saw one of the children’s faces grinning at her, it’s abnormally large features were creepy—scary even. She looked to another and its mouth, no its maw, was opened so wide it looked as if it could swallow her head whole.

  “Danger! Danger! Danger! Danger!” the phone persisted. Anna shoved the smart phone into her pocket and ran. She ran hard. There was nothing but forest on either side of her. Roughly 300 yards ahead was a motorcycle, its kickstand down and the keys still in the ignition. 20 yards from that was a pile of clothes. It looked as if the bikes owners’ last act was to generously water the forest with piss. The children were chasing her now, swooping down and up again, taunting her—playing with her. She grasped the jeweled necklace around her neck, shoved it down the front of her shirt, and ran even faster.

  “Turn left now.” She didn’t question it, she dodged left and kept running. Something flew past her. The bike was 200 yards away now. The back of her shirt was plastered to her skin and she was running out of steam. 150 yards. Anna had a new appreciation for punt returners as she dodged right on her GPS angel’s direction. She was almost to the bike now, a few more steps and she could leap onto it like a jockey.

  “Stop!” Anna slowed and then abruptly stopped. She turned around slowly when she heard a thunderous roar above her followed by thud after thud after thud. The evil little children were landing. Her heart was pounding even harder than it was when she was in full sprint. One of the children, who couldn’t have been more than 5 years old, began walking towards her. His bright red sneakers shined in the sunlight. It crossed her mind that the sneakers might not have been red originally but that thought was quickly dismissed. She didn’t notice but her shirt was glowing now, the deep green tinged her skin at the fringes of her shirt, pulsing with every beat of her heart. The small boy stopped in his tracks at the sight of the glowing and glowered at her. Anna stepped backwards several steps closer to the motorcycle. “Head North for ten miles.”

  The boy heard this and looked surprised momentarily. He smiled and then shot into the air so fast it was like he vanished before her eyes. He and the swarm were gone before Anna had even started the motor. The tank was half-full. The glowing had ceased and the GPS had gone silent in her pocket. Anna headed north and the swarm followed.

  . . .

  Cochran was scrolling frantically now. He’d finally made his way into the heart of the Google complex. He was shocked to find two of the first buildings he came upon were not connected to a redundant power source but building 47 was all that mattered to him. The sniffer code worked like a charm winding through the internet. Before he initiated it he virtually explored the data center he was in. It occurred to him that he could use some of the same code Google used for its web crawlers and in just a couple hours he was able to recompile his code integrated with theirs.

  That wasn’t that big a deal with all of the public API’s out there for Android developers but he still felt like it was too easy. This was Google after all, not some random circa 1990’s bank or whatever. As the sniffer was doing his thing he started playing around in other space. He began noticing that things were just working. Computers never just work. Sure if you’re smart enough they’ll do precisely what you ask them to do… but even he normally had to run a debugger. Nobody was perfect—and yet.

  It was almost as if coding were no longer necessary. Like the system was doing what it needed to do because he wanted it to—because he willed it to. IT folk often relate computer lingo to business folk as magic. When the glazed and disinterested looks appear you might as well be talking about flux capacitors and floppy drives rather than drivers and APIs. But for the first time it really did seem magical. Cochran felt like if he started talking to the system like Captain Kirk that it might just respond.

  “Cochran’s log, Star date 867-5309.” Results were beginning to parse to his terminal from the sniffer query but he hadn’t noticed yet, “It appears that the entirety of the world’s population has disappeared like a fart in a tornado—for no discernible reason.” He began pacing in the large cool room, “Perhaps now would be a good time to dial up Kelly Culpepper since I appear to be the last man on Earth.” The results were still coming but slowly, mostly log files from a GPS App on an iPhone, a couple geo-location coordinates near Biloxi. Several google searches initiated from Utah, and something from what he’d later find to be a jumbotron screen.

  “Computer, restore full power to building 47,” Cochran said authoritatively. When the lights blared on
and the cooling system returned to full power he nearly pissed his pants. He was speechless, could that have actually worked? Naaaaah, “Computer, bring up my search results in full screen.” The results of his sniffer displayed now on the widescreen NOC display. His heart skipped a beat. Clearly he’d died and gone to nerd heaven, “Computer, play the Ramones.”

  Suddenly the entire complex was filled with the sounds of Joey Ramone shouting LO-BO-TO-MY. LO-BO-TO-MY, “Holy fuck this is awesome!” Cochran sat back down in one of the tall back leather chairs, hands resting in a point under his chin, and began reading the results on the big screen.

  01:09pm EST Evan Thomas | Source: Facebook Post | I think I’m hallucinating

  01:10pm EST WebCall initiated | Source: CNN Web | No update

  01:10pm EST WebCall initiated | Source: ESPN Web | No update

  01:11pm EST Evan Thomas | Source: Facebook | Reload

  01:12pm EST Telephone call initiated | Source: 267-609-5555 | Call failed

  01:12pm EST Telephone call initiated | Source: 267-609-5555 | Call failed

  01:13pm EST Telephone call initiated | Source: 267-609-5555 | Call failed

  01:14pm EST Telephone call initiated | Source: 267-609-5555 | Call failed

  01:15pm EST Evan Thomas | Source: Facebook | Reload

  01:15pm EST WebCall initiated | Source: CNN Web | No update

  01:17pm EST Telephone call initiated | Source: 301-555-2139 | Call failed

  01:18pm EST Telephone call initiated | Source: 301-555-2139 | Call failed

  01:18pm EST Telephone call initiated | Source: 301-555-2139 | Call failed

  01:18pm EST Telephone call initiated | Source: 301-555-2139 | Call failed

  01:21pm EST Telephone call initiated | Source: 301-555-2139 | Call failed

  11:22am MST Soleil Bernadine | Source: Facebook | Reload

  01:37pm EST Leo Riley | Source: Google Search | Philadelphia disaster

  01:43pm EST mrose/Leo Riley | Source: Jumbotron CMS | WTF?

  02:17pm EST DirecTV | Channel 212 | Live feed

  The list went on like this for a while. Mostly things he’d consider chatter like the above but a few things stuck out. In particular there was a voice activated request at Philadelphia Airport from an iPhone. There were several GPS logs out of Maryland that read Danger in sixteen languages and a similar GPS log file in Arkansas several days after everything started.

  What he learned from it all was a) he was not in fact the last man on Earth, b) they might all be in danger, and c) everyone appeared to be heading towards the center of Missouri to a place called Abbey Downs. On top of these new revelations, something was changing the way technology was working, not just for him but for everyone. This was possibly the biggest puzzle he’d ever had the privilege to work on and he thought maybe he had just found the who of it.

  Cochran downloaded the results to his thumb drive and gathered his things. Before he left he gave the computer several directives (including, just in case, Asimov’s 3 laws of robotics). Restore full power to anything it could reach and keep it going. Keep track of the folks that were tagged by the sniffer. Report status on all of these things to him hourly. He wasn’t sure how he was going to get there but he knew he needed to be there. He was headed to Abbey Downs.

  When he turned the corner near the Googleplex courtyard he felt like he was being watched, followed even. Cochran began slowing his pace. He ducked behind the next corner and waited. A small silver car came into view just barely; he could only see the hood, not inside. It stopped and idled. There were no car doors opened or any other indicators that they were in pursuit. Cochran got down low and peaked around the corner. The car drove forward more and stopped again. It had a large camera on its roof that resembled an eye but was otherwise unoccupied.

  There was a long smear of orange sauce across its windshield. That’s when he recognized it. This was the same autonomous car he’d tossed his cheeseburger at back on the Freeway. His nerdy little mind immediately flashed to memories of Maximum Overdrive, Christine, Knight Rider… even Transformers but the car did not attack him. The eye-like camera seemed to swivel towards him then the driver’s side door popped open, “If that’s not an invitation I don’t know what is.” He said aloud.

  Its license plate read IRIS. Cochran got inside and sat down. The radio turned on at a reasonable volume, continuing to play the Ramones. Cochran chuckled, “I think I’m going to like this new world.” The car beeped its horn, “Iris, what’s the best way to Abbey Downs?” A small screen lit up in the dashboard console displaying a somewhat convoluted set of directions but the ETA was reasonable. It said it would be just under two days travel, “Alright, if you say so. Let’s go.” The car beeped again and then headed east.

  7

  Soleil and Patrick rode silently south towards Abbey Downs. The thrum of the motorcycle engine was so soothing that Soleil found herself dozing off on Patrick’s back. He didn’t seem to notice and continued humming the last hymn he’d heard before the end began. The last sounds of his choir. How did it go again? Come, thou long expected Jesus, born to set thy people free; from our fears and sins release us, let us find our rest in thee.

  “What’s that song?” asked Soleil, “You’ve been humming it since Boise.”

  “Oh just an old church song,” he said over the wind. Something set the people free alright but Patrick could only hope that they found their rest in thee and not somewhere else. He just wasn’t as sure anymore.

  “It’s nice,” said Soleil drowsily. The sun was up but it was still chilly, chilly for June anyway. They’d ridden through the night anxious to get to their destination. Neither knew exactly what drove them to Abbey Downs but the urgency seemed to elevate as each day passed. Soleil looked up at the sky, scanning it. They hadn’t come upon anymore of the flying things that attacked back where they’d first met up but somehow that too felt inevitable.

  Patrick slowed then pulled off to the side of the road. He helped Soleil off the back of the bike then pulled some food out of a backpack tied to the rear and handed it to her, “Eat,” he said as he pulled out an old fold-up map. The fields of wheat and corn had thinned out a few hours ago. Soleil noticed the corn appeared to be multi-colored in places, not like Indian corn, but like something out of a cartoon. A few miles back she’d have sworn some of them even had rainbow kernels. Now all that was left as scenery were trees, trees, and more trees. She gnawed on a piece of beef jerky. Patrick’s brow was furrowed, he looked concerned, “Huh,” he said at last.

  A zebra stuck its head out of the forest ahead of them. It had a cob in its mouth and was chewing it hungrily, “Holy shit, Pat, do you see that?”

  Patrick looked up.

  “Guess we’re not in Kansas anymore, huh, Toto.”

  “Actually, I think we were an hour ago but we’re in Missouri now,” said Patrick returning to his map, “In fact I believe this is Abbey Downs.”

  “But… there’s nothing here,” Soleil sounded disappointed.

  “Yep. Noticed that too.”

  . . .

  After they’d found Finn a new set of pants, Evan, Leo, and Finn were ready to go. The woman in white, they learned (once she pried herself away from Leo’s face), was called Belanna. She also happened to be a dragon and when she revealed this fact to them, not in words, but in transformation to her natural form Finn had pissed his pants and fainted. Luckily (of course) the previous owner of the house had been just his size.

  They learned that Belanna had actually been sent to find them due to the odd weather that had popped up over their region. Thanks to Leo’s innate ability to commune with animals (not that dragons consider themselves animals) it took Belanna no time at all to track them to the small house and now they were on their way. Headed, finally, towards Abbey Downs.

  Belanna didn’t say much else but this time Leo wasn’t bothered by the lack of facts. He was beginning to feel the same contentment Evan had shown back in the house. There were answers in Abbey Downs to all thes
e things and more. They had to get there and this was their ticket. Everything just felt right again—especially when he was around Belanna.

  “Will you give it a rest already?” Leo scolded Finn who had been prattling on since they’d left the house atop Belanna in dragon form.

  “Ho! Denial’s the clincher, Leeeeeo,” Finn chided back, “And how do you even know it was a kiss? She’s a bloody dragon, Leo, she was probably tasting you.” At this Belanna glared back at him emitting a low growl. Finn quieted down. Evan grinned and shook his head quietly. Ahead of them the sky darkened.

  “Is that another storm?” Evan said pointing west. Everyone looked in the direction he was pointing but no one said anything. The darkening sky was moving erratically in the distance like a swarm of bugs, “No, that’s no storm… what the fuck is that?”

  . . .

  Cochran stood on top of Iris looking out over the road ahead. Technology still had its limitations apparently. Iris had been recalculating on and off for the last hour and finally slowed and then eventually stopped where they were now; right in the middle of nowhere. He knew there were others out there and he knew they were still alive. He’d been receiving alerts on the hour of new activity and things were coming in from a few different places now but it was all very slow. Mostly just mundane chatter but it was still comforting to see. It gave him hope.

  “Ready!” came Iris’s voice, “Let’s go!”

  “Oh, Iris, what would I do without you?”

  “Recalculating!”

  “Stupid car!”

  Before Cochran got back inside the car he had a thought. What would I do? Why I’d ensure all the satellites floating out there were doing my bidding of course. Could he do it? Would writing an interface to a satellite just work too?

  “Iris, open a channel to all orbiting communication satellites.” Cochran made quick work of it and before he knew it he had written… something. It looked like a mixture of languages all with a C base. He didn’t just want Iris’s GPS to work better; he wanted everything in reach to work better… to be connected again. Bring power back up where possible, bring data up, bridge it all up and continue to report on progress, over and out and all that. Before he knew it he was compiling the communication interface. It worked.

 

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