by Hawk, J. K.
Breathing, Adam once wrote about this observation in his journal, long ago back at the old mill with that sightless Necrotic. He was shocked by the chokehold that subdued it, and with SPV-3, there was no purpose for its breathing, it was but habitual, plain old instinct. However, the Prowler’s breathing was not asymptomatic, it had purpose. Its lungs struggled to renew themselves over the pounding in its chest, and the adrenaline pumping through its infectious veins. The scientist in me became excited with question, curiosity overshadowing the fear of death, and then in one instant I became giddy.
The beast leaned closer, its rancid breath filling my sinuses with nausea as its nebulous eyes stared deep into mine. The Prowler’s bony hand lashed out and cusped my neck, squeezing tightly, completely cutting off the flow of air. I gagged, gasped, and struggled to free myself from its grip. My eyes once again flooded with tears, blurring the dark and evil visage before me, and my heart pounded harder in my chest until its thunderous beats overshadowed the onslaught around us - war vanished into nothingness. Blackness dropped over my eyes, I was rapidly fading, losing consciousness.
All was silent, all was dark. I was alone in an empty realm with no notion of escape, and yet fear was nonexistent. It was absolute nothingness, a desolate realm after the end of time. An eternity of nihility, just endless thought without no meaning, with no purpose. Complete and utter emptiness, and I relished in it. Before long, before I could contemplate it further there came a bright light, like the birth of a star before my very eyes. It was brilliant, blinding and it shined upon me with peace and tranquility. The light of God!
Something cold and hard brushed my hand, or my hand brushed against it, I am not sure. A smooth and forged surface, gradually connecting to a textured obtrusion that fit comfortably within my fingers. I didn’t question it, my curiosity nonexistent, and yet my hand grip hard upon it as if it had a mind of its own. And as if a weight seemed to hold it back, my arm slowly lifted, straining to raise it higher into the pitch, until a clap of thunder shattered my inner ear. All was silent again, darkness faded to the light, and Valkyries silhouette stumbled in place from above, just before slumping down hard upon the pavement beside me.
Fumbling, I stood up above the beast’s corpse, gasping for air and wiping away my watery eyes. The overpowering smell of the Necrotic army did not waiver my pride in the site before me as I stood over the Prowler’s lifeless body. My pistol held tightly within my aged yet iron-clenched grip. And from its own death, the control it had over the horde faded, and although the sounds of their shuffle closed in behind me, my attention slowly turned towards the retreating chopper, and all I could do was smile.
The hope of mankind slowly drifted off over Rangeley Lake, and I could see Abel’s struggle of protest, fighting to get off the flying-machine in order to save me. Thankfully the kind heart of Steph took over as she knelt before him in attempt to provide comfort. And that was the last I saw of them as their chariot grew smaller by the second, until it was completely enveloped in smog, and my smile faded as the reality of the day set in. The Apache’s swiftly followed close behind to provide cover, but there was no need, the silence of gunfire was enough to assure that any other militias had been eradicated, overrun, driven off by unruly children, or violently burnt alive.
Soon Atlas’s mighty gunships were also shrouded within the smoke of victory, and the whirr of their rotors quickly fading into the distance. In solace, I raised my hand and waved one last goodbye, and did not stop, not even when the decayed paw of the devil fell upon my weary shoulders. Although I stand within a refutable valley of death, I fear not of the shadows surrounding me, for thy rod and thy staff are parading forth and shine comfort upon me.
RESTROSPECTIVE
All living things are but an insignificant ripple in the vast ocean of life, each on colliding with another to form larger ripples, and all eventually washing upon the shores and eroding our planet to suit their own survivability. Mankind, in the history of all living things, started from a ripple, then rapidly expanded into a swell which has collided with all shores with devastating results. But, over the last twelve horrific and damnable years the reign of man has diminished, the violent surf we forced upon this world has receded back to the ripple that it once was, and all beneath the iron tidal waves of Valkyrie.
She has been called many things over the years; Lucifer’s Maiden, the Blunder of Man, God’s Wrath, and even Nature’s Iron Fist. The latter may be more fitting then the others, for when we take away the archaic fables of man’s superstitions, all we have left is nature, and she is a maleficent bitch. Throughout Earth’s history, Mother Nature has both given and taken life, meagerly as well as absolutely. And that is exactly what Valkyrie is, the reset button for all of nature, the necessary genocide of mankind, a last ditch effort to bring balance back to life as a whole.
Ash, my dearest friend, spoke coldly of Necessary Genocide, the culling of the herd so that that strongest and righteous will prevail. Garrison too spoke of something similar, what I referred to as Evolutionary Cleansing, an action which would seem to be important to our own survival and progress, but also seemed less offensive than straight up genocide. In truth, the two are one and the same, immoral grasps at straws to solve the problems of the world. How can we put ourselves above all others, put ourselves above nature, for she was here first and not ours to spoil. Out of the decimation of man it is all too clear, our problems are self-induced, and our extinction is nature’s prioritized genocide. For when we are gone, the Infected will eventually starve, and after a thousand trips around the sun, life will start anew. One day, long from now, a new species will have their shot at reigning over this world.
My own pessimism was not always apparent or even acknowledged, at all times I have shown optimism and hope that this is not the end, that mankind can and will live on. And maybe this is still true, maybe there is an unseen force working for us, or the will of man is more powerful than we could have ever imagined. Yet I cannot help but look upon our ongoing misfortunes as a precursor to the final chapter of humanity. We are just a fading droplet in the pool.
Abel, that sweet boy who has never heard or seen any of the spectacular wonders of the world, who lived only by the words of his father and by the laws of the land, has been plucked from his own pond in hopes that his ripples will redirect our path. And based on the events at Rangeley, he, we are on course, only the captain has been left behind. The world must now truly band together, end the needless squabbling, and follow our guiding star back to civilization. However, I feel nothing for the outcome, no matter which shore it washes upon. I feel nothing. Endless thought, and yet no emotion, I can’t even remember what love, hate, joy or even sadness feels like. An endless emptiness with only curiosity to keep me company.
Thinking back over my own life, my happiness as a boy waking upon Christmas morning, the joy over the birth of my beautiful daughter, the sorrow in the painful death of my mother, and yet I remember none of it. The visions are strong in my mind, but the emotions are empty. It is as if my entire life, all of my experiences, all of my heartache and happiness were just dreams within a cloud of intangible despair.
Thinking back on the years I spent below the surface of Fort Detrick, alone and forgotten, fighting a battle against one of man’s greatest adversaries and her legions of endless nightmares, I am stuck with the thoughts of failure. What was missed back within those depths of technological advancements? I was the first to crack her genome, stare her down, and manipulate her in various ways. But, never was I able to control or vanquish her. Ever step I took in our fiery waltz, she countered and led.
My first experiment, my initial glimpse at what Valkyrie, was both heartbreaking and necessary. Over my career I have done many tests and experiments on a variety of animals and although I felt guilt over my actions, the greater good is what guiding my hand. And Valkyrie pushed that guilt even further, for my first experiment was to test her capabilities; agility, dominance, discipline and effectiv
eness. Suzanne was the precious soul that allowed me to see what this disease was truly capable of.
The young orangutan came to me years prior, purchased through the black market from a trapper somewhere in Borneo. Only six month old at the time, and selected to test a new vaccine against Anthrax. However, upon her arrival, Susanne and I immediately formed a bond, one that prevented me from running any tests on her. My defiance against my superiors was met with harsh criticism, but in the end, due to the progress I had made with other test subjects, Susanne and I were left alone.
Our friendship grew strong over the years, and she eventually became a loyal lab assistant. Fetching random tools for me, effectively calming other frightened primates, and on occasion fetching me food when I was too busy to take a break. She was by my side day after day, a friend unlike any I have ever had before. And in a way, she became a daughter to me, as precious as my own flesh and blood.
Within days of receiving living samples of Valkyrie I was forced to test HER turn rate. But I needed a human-like subject, something that could think, problem solve, and feel a wide range of emotions. Although I had many primates to test, they were small and far too animalistic. Susanne was the only one that possessed the mental capabilities that I required, and knowing that broke my heart instantly.
I can remember trying to hold back the tears as I prepped the syringe and escorted her into the observation chamber. She had no idea what was happening, holding my hand gently as she always did when we walked through the facility, smacking her lips playfully and blowing random raspberries. Once inside the chamber she crawled up on a stool and held out her arm, like she has so many times before when I needed to draw blood, and never once flinched when I punctured her flesh. Until that day, she jolted as I plunged the liquid in her veins, and afterwards she rubbed the area and stared at me as if violated.
“I’m sorry girl.” I whispered in her ear. Then, unexpectedly and painfully she leaned over and kissed my forehead as she playfully rubbed her hand through my hair. It was too much, and without another word I left the room, locking the door behind me. The clank of the steel bolt was met with a loud pounding against the door and with a jolt to my heart I turned and looked through the observation window.
Susanne stood at the glass, arms outstretched upon them and staring at me with her mouth agape and a loud screech resonating from her airwaves. Angry at my betrayal, but that was not the case, her gorgeous brown eyes seemed to fill rapidly with a milky haze, and within moments she erupted into a frenzy. Pounding the shatterproof glass with her fists as she spat upon it and bayed like a beast from hell. My adopted daughter, my friend, was no more. In less than a minute she had gone from a gentle and caring ape, to a ravenous and abominable monstrosity.
My heart full of guilt, flooded with regret, I slumped down on the floor next to the chamber and cried like a baby as my best friend assaulted her containment with a ferocity that was unbecoming. I can’t be sure how long I sat there and wallowed in my own selfishness, but not once did I ever look back into those eyes. The creature I knew was no more, and I fought back those emotions in order to focus on the experiment.
Over the next few days I exposed her to different stimuli. Random photos, but her only focus was on me. Then inanimate objects; a ball, her favorite stuffed teddy bear, and even a bowl of Kiwi’s which she favored above all other fruits. All of which were ignored, and her eyes still focused violently upon me. And then came the test of all tests, and the moment that I knew there was no coming back from this infection.
It began with introducing a deceased rabbit into the chamber, and at first she ignored it, eyes still on me. After a few moments she became agitated and eventually picked up the carcass and sauntered over to me before an ear piercing bellow escaped her mouth and with ease she tore the rabbit in half and slammed each bloody end against the glass, snarling insatiably. Her breath steamed up the pane, and her demonic façade faded beneath a fog of infection.
That was the last test. The following day I sedated her, using ten times the normal dosage to achieve a docile temperament. It should have killed her, but it didn’t, instead she lay motionless except her heavy and hateful breaths. Carefully I took blood, hair, and saliva samples before wheeling her into the incineration chamber and igniting the burners. Once again I was overcome with emotion, and began to cry as I looked through the heat resistant glass and upon the demise of a precious soul.
The sedative faded, and violently she slammed into the glass, pounding her fists against the chamber door as her hair was scorched away to reveal blistering skin that quickly peeled from her muscles. Within minutes her final assault ended and she fell to the chamber floor before crumbling to a dark crisp ash. For days afterwards I did nothing but relish in my own guilt, fighting bouts of drunken sorrow, and eventually sleeping longer than I ever had before.
However, thinking back on those heartbreaking days bring back none of those painful emotions, and I no longer feel that dreadful guilt. I’ve lost my own humanity, it’s been smothered, shrouded in the devil’s veil. And yet, now I can see what I had overlooked. A long term test-subject, and quite possibly the key to unlocking Valkyries secrets. My emotions drove my actions, without them the world may be a better place today.
With that in mind, Abel just might be the key to ending all of this suffering, but like many times before, it will likely reveal just another labyrinth of locked doors. But as I stand here, watching the horizon, I wonder what will become of him, how will he cope with this new world he is entering. In the forefront of my thoughts is the question of if Nova will recognize him, recognize his scent, or see him as a dangerous infection. And then the thoughts of his future come to mind, will he ever find love? Will he become a leader? Or will Valkyrie eventually take control of him? Even though it is a futile endeavor, I am determined to find out the answers to those very questions.
It took some time, back on the streets of Rangeley, to convince my own legs to move, to escape that city of the damned. But with both patience and strenuous focus, I pried one foot out in front of the other and made my way west. What most would see as obstacles, I saw as life goals. First it was to make way towards a large boulder at the edge of Rangeley Lake, and once there, I would set a new goal, pushing myself continuously until I reach my destination. Until I once again stumbled down Zimmerman Blvd in the great city of Maribel.
And as I trudge through the rugged landscape, I lose myself in thought, in those questions that have driven me all these years. Reviewing all the research in my head, and all that I have experienced out in the wilds, drawing conclusions that only inspire more questions. But, there is one question, one that all of the living have asked at one time or another, one that we have always feared to be answered. What is it like to be consumed by Valkyrie? I myself have had a glimpse into such a transition, first with my own flesh and blood, and then with Adam. But a glimpse was all that it was.
Pain was in their forefront, excruciating and endless pain. It brought tears to them both, thick bloody tears that seemed to paint their cheeks as it rolled over their cracked and decaying skin. I remember thinking that it was almost pathetic that the Devil would shed a tear, but it wasn’t the devil. It was them, simply trapped in the Devil’s chambers. That first wave of emotion when they were reconnected with their own consciousness must have been overwhelmingly gratifying and endlessly depressing. It is something I hope I will never have to experience, and yet curious of it at the same time.
As for the ceaseless pain described upon their reawakening, there are no words that can truly convey it. Like razor-blades, hotter than the surface of the sun, coursing through every vein and every muscle within your body. Bones feel as if they are shattering with each step, and the heart pumps with rigor like it could rupture at any moment. Then there is an infinite horde of fire ants crawling over the skin, stinging and biting, clawing away at the flesh. And even though I can feel every bit of it, I also have no emotion towards it. I don’t want to cry, even if I could, I
don’t want to die, although I would not object. The pain is just there, and my trek before me is all that I see.
Another step forward, my legs fighting me like a frightened horse by the reigns, and that boulder even closer now with the horizon awaiting patiently. I never noticed it before, but change is all around me, rapidly drifting before my very eyes. The GFS air convoy is far out of sight, and the sun barely hangs upon the skyline, yet the leaves of the forest have gone from green to red within minutes. It didn’t make sense, but I did not ponder it much. I was still focused, still pushing each legs closer and closer to that boulder.
I can feel pricks of icy coldness upon my arms which rapidly fade to mild dampness. It is distracting, putting my attention into chaos as I continue to focus on my goal as well as past and possible future events. Even though it is tough to see through the haze in my eyes, little specks begin to float all about. Swirling amongst the recently dead that lay upon the ground, which now are nothing more than sun-bleached bones. No, not bleached, but snow covered.
The boulder? Where did it go?
Time, like my emotions, is no longer existent. What has felt like minutes is obviously more like months, possibly even years. It is hard to say. But I do not lose focus, I push on, concentrating on each foot moving forward, fighting the demon inside for control. I search for that boulder, the goal my eyes had lock onto, to draw my decaying body in. But it’s no longer there. Neither is Rangeley or the path that I was following.