Caleb and the others followed Garner to the doors. Garner tapped a code on the keypad beside the door, then waited. Nothing happened. Swearing, Garner grabbed a stun gun from one of the others and fired it into the keypad. The pad erupted in bright red sparks and flashes, then a dull clunk echoed from the side of the doors as the locking mechanism fell open. Garner and Eric quickly pushed the doors back into their wall slots and hurried into the repair-bay. The bay was large, maybe a hundred feet across. It was built into the tail end of the ship, oddly shaped with an arched ceiling and triangular floor-plan. In the center of the floor was a fifty-foot-wide circular hatch designed to allow the scout ships to enter. Tucked into each of the three corners of the room were smaller circular platforms.
Garner pointed to one of the smaller platforms as the rest of the old-bloods poured into the hangar. “Those are the elevators,” he said. “They’re just a floor, no walls, so don’t crowd onto them or you might fall off the edge.”
The ship shuddered again, lights dimming and flickering. For a moment, it seemed to drop slowly and tilt slightly to one side. Caleb looked skeptically at the flat disks that would lower them hundreds of feet to the ground.
“I don’t think anybody’s going to be peeking over the edge,” Caleb said as he and Chuck followed Tess and Krezahu toward one of the platforms.
In another corner of the hangar, the old-bloods had filled the lift as much as they dared and had hit the control switch. The platform was slowly lowering itself through the opening in the floor and out of the bottom of the ship, supported by three thick cables.
As Tess and Garner waved the rest of the dinosaur-people onto the two remaining platforms, Caleb looked again at the bundle of cables clutched in Krezahu’s hand.
“What did you do, anyway?” Caleb asked nervously. “Is this thing going to blow up, or what?”
“Don’t know,” Krezahu answered plainly. “Might fall like drifting leaf, might drop like stone. Might blow to bits. I talked to the Ne Shaazi who watches the machine’s belly and keeps it happy. I told him, ‘They poisoned your machine! You have to get the poison out!’ I made him believe it was the truth, and he started to tear apart his own machine, looking for the poison! Ha-ha! Foolish creature.”
“So... They think there’s a bomb or something in the engines?” Caleb asked.
Krezahu nodded happily. “Yes, a bomb! Machine-poison.”
“And they’re tearing apart the engines to find the bomb?” Caleb continued.
Krezahu nodded again and held up the bundle of wires. “See? They throw this everywhere, ha-ha!”
Caleb gulped and looked around nervously as the ship rocked again. Garner’s platform was full and already beginning to lower through the floor. Caleb searched for the switch Garner had talked about as Tess waved the last of the old-bloods onto their platform. Caleb found the switch under a small, hinged panel near the edge of the lift.
Suddenly, the ship shuddered and tilted again, knocking Caleb off balance. As he struggled to right himself again, Tess cried out in alarm, pointing toward the hangar doors.
Caleb looked up in time to see a thick crowd of panicked Ne Shaazi soldiers flooding through the doors, heading for the lift. He quickly flicked the switch and braced himself for the descent.
The platform dropped slowly through the floor of the hangar, into a short, cylindrical shaft running through the belly of the ship. Caleb stared back up into the hangar as the platform descended out into open air beneath the giant vessel. They were at least a hundred feet above the rock-strewn mountain slopes, swinging precariously on the long cables dangling from the belly of the wobbling ship.
Caleb looked up again, then gasped in surprise. Several Ne Shaazi soldiers were climbing down the cables from the hangar, desperately trying to escape the dying ship. As the first few soldiers came within reach of the old-bloods, they were grappled and tossed from the lift. The other soldiers stopped where they were, hanging tightly to the cables as the platform swung halfway between the ship and the ground. Caleb could see more soldiers hanging from the cables on the other two lifts.
A sudden eerie cry from Krezahu startled Caleb, raising the hairs on the back of his neck. The Awaru was jumping frantically and pointing up at one of the cables.
“The Foul One!” he croaked. “The Huzhiith, the Servant of Destruction!” Caleb looked up to see a figure crawling down one of the cables from the hangar opening. He recognized the twisted form of Commander Pollard instantly. The mutant was climbing down the cable headfirst, gripping the metal cord with the hooked claws of his hands and feet. Caleb could see shredded cloth and a great dark stain of crusted blood across his back where Tess had clawed him. He stared directly at Caleb and Tess, glancing back and forth at each of them with his single orange eye. The hybrid clambered down the cable with an unsettling agility, moving like a malformed spider. He lashed out at several Ne Shaazi clinging to the cable in front of him, snarling and tossing them violently from his path. Other soldiers threw themselves willingly from the cable, choosing death on the rocks below rather than facing the fury of their maddened commander.
Caleb tried to calm his mind, to summon the concentration he would need for another psychic battle, but his thoughts were chaos. Beside him, Tess and Chuck tensed and growled, ready to tear into the approaching monster.
Pollard stopped a dozen feet above the platform, then sprang from the cable, launching himself toward Caleb and Tess. He landed on his hands and feet with a heavy thud several feet away, rocking the lift dangerously. For a moment, he simply sat there, crouched like an animal on all fours, his scarred, snarling face a mask of hate and madness.
Suddenly he charged, dashing across the metal platform on his hands and feet, gnashing his jagged teeth and howling in incoherent rage. Chuck moved to stand in front of Caleb just as Tess broke into a countercharge. The raptor-woman leapt into the air, sailing feet-first toward Pollard’s snarling face. At the last second, he reared up and flicked his arm outward, catching Tess around the waist with one long-fingered hand. Caleb tried in vain to gather his spent mental energies as Pollard positioned his other clawed hand for a killing blow to Tess’s head. Unable to pry his fingers loose, Tess lashed out with a tremendous kick from her powerful legs. Her great, hooked toe-claws plunged deep into Pollard’s gut, ripping in and downward with savage strength.
The Commander screeched hideously, grimacing with the searing pain. Tess prepared to kick again, but as she drew her claws from Pollard’s bleeding stomach, he flung her away from him, through the air. She hit the platform hard, sliding and rolling across the tilting metal, until she hit one of the cables near the edge. She barely managed to hook her fingers around the cable as she slipped over the edge of the lift, dangling a hundred feet above the rocks.
Caleb watched in horror as Pollard staggered forward, his clawed hand clamped over his torn stomach, blood gushing between his scaly fingers and trickling from the corner of his mouth. The mutant hybrid reached out with his other hand, clenching thin air with his long, razor-clawed fingers. He opened his mouth to say something, but only gurgled as blood poured out of his scaly lips.
Caleb looked from Pollard to Tess, who still dangled from the edge of the lift, then bolted around the lurching Commander. He was almost past, but Pollard swung at him with his free hand, clamping down on his shoulder with powerful fingers. Caleb ducked and wriggled, trying to break free, but the Commander’s fingers were like steel, pulling Caleb tight against his torn and bloody body. Through his rasping, gurgling breaths, Pollard whispered in Caleb’s ear as he limped quickly toward the edge of the lift.
“I’m... taking... you... with... me...” he hissed, speckling Caleb’s cheek with bloody spittle. Caleb writhed and kicked, feeling something soft and wet spill across his legs as Pollard removed his other hand from his slashed stomach and wrapped Caleb in a death-grip.
Just as they began to tip forward, a sudden impact threw them sideways onto the edge of the platform, knocking Caleb free o
f the mutant’s grasp. Out of the corner of his eye, Caleb saw Chuck leaning over the quivering body of the Commander. With a powerful shove from her blunt nose-horn, she slid the hybrid’s flailing body over the edge of the lift. He clung to the edge for a moment, scraping the metal with his hooked claws, until Chuck bit down on the scaly knuckles, severing fingers and sending the mutant screaming to the rugged rocks below.
Caleb didn’t stop to catch his breath, pushing himself up and running toward Tess, who was being pulled back onto the platform by the other old-bloods. He pushed through the press of bodies, collapsing beside Tess on the metal floor. The two embraced silently for a moment before rising to their feet awkwardly and peering over the edge of the lift.
The platform was sweeping closer and closer to the ground. Fortunately, the ship was moving slowly, making it possible to jump off the lift before it smacked and dragged across the rough terrain. When the lift was only a few feet above the rocky ground, the old-bloods began jumping off. Most of them landed lightly, although there were a few minor injuries, especially for the larger, less agile types. Most of the Ne Shaazi that had ridden the cables down fled into the hills. Those that didn’t died under the claws and horns of their former prisoners. Caleb was one of the last to leave, struggling to convince Chuck to jump from the moving platform. She finally leapt into a thick clump of bushes, falling and rolling in the cushioning foliage. Caleb somehow managed to land on his feet, narrowly missing a large boulder.
The group quickly gathered together, moving back into the hills, away from the tilting and booming ship. They watched as it veered off to the north, over the foothills of the Bear River Range. The ship sank slowly, tipping further and further to one side as fires began to seep out through the hatches and armor joints. Moments later, in the rapidly fading afternoon light, the ship scraped across the tops of several peaks, shedding strips of armor plating and discharging long bolts of red electricity into the mountainside. It was difficult to say how long it would have continued its spiraling descent, if it hadn’t finally plowed into the face of a massive cliff, crumpling and exploding in a shower of flames and lightning, like brilliant red fireworks.
The fires from the ruined Destroyer cast a crimson glow in the northern sky as the old-bloods began foraging for food and firewood in the darkening hills.
THE LONG HIGHWAY STRETCHED OUT BEFORE and behind them, quiet and empty. Here and there, the smooth ribbon of asphalt was interrupted by small clusters of cars. The motionless vehicles sat forlornly with doors opened and keys hanging in ignitions, abandoned when their New Year’s Eve journeys came to a sudden, silent end. A few vehicles lay at crazy angles in the tall grass surrounding the highway, the owners unable to hold their course in the sudden absence of headlights.
Caleb and Theresa rode down the silent road on small children’s bicycles, carrying food and other essentials in small backpacks and weaving around the occasional vehicle. Theresa had been surprised at the lack of cars, until Caleb explained that most people had probably been at home or at parties when the lights went out.
The children had fled from the ruins of San Francisco the previous day, riding their bikes out through Oakland and Berkeley. They had seen few people. Caleb reasoned that most of the survivors were probably still hiding. Many of the people they saw only watched silently as the children passed by, probably too afraid to call out or worried about sharing their scavenged food supply. As they had crossed the bridge from Martinez to Benicia, a strange man had chased after them. He had a frightening, wild expression and wore a dark raincoat streaked with sinister red stains, screaming and waving a hammer as he ran after them. Though the children had easily outpaced him on their bikes, they didn’t dare stop to rest until they had left him miles behind.
After that unnerving encounter, the children began hiding when they spotted other survivors. It was easy for them to conceal their small bodies in the tall grass on the side of the road, waiting until any wandering strangers had passed safely out of sight. As they traveled further down the empty highway, however, they encountered fewer and fewer people. The sense of solitude was both comforting and frightening.
The children had now been riding for hours, without encountering a single sign of human life. Caleb wondered to himself if this was a good omen, remembering the ravenous allosaurus that had chased them through the city. What prehistoric monsters might lie slumbering out in the wide fields around them? As the sun began sinking lower in the sky, painting the fields with gleaming golden light, Caleb’s thoughts were scattered by an excited gasp from Theresa.
“Caleb, look,” she said, pointing to the horizon. “Buildings! Maybe we can sleep inside tonight.”
Caleb nodded happily, given the alternative of sleeping out in the fields, exposed to any humans or dinosaurs that might prey on them.
“We’ll have to be careful, though,” he said, watching Theresa’s smile turn into a nervous frown. “We don’t know if there’s anybody dangerous out here.”
Theresa nodded and stared intently at the distant buildings. The two children pedaled on steadily, speeding across the silent and unfamiliar fields toward the lengthening shadows of a silent and unfamiliar town.
Caleb’s worries about unfriendly strangers proved to be unwarranted. The town was as empty and still as the endless highway.
It was a small town, consisting of a short main street and a handful of smaller side streets. The buildings and shops stood in silent rows like the husks of dead giants, lifeless and empty. Many of the doors were open, and several windows were broken. In a small mom-and-pop grocery store, shelves were toppled and food lay scattered across the floor, as if people, and then animals, had been scavenging for anything edible. On one of the walls, the yellowed, peeling wallpaper was riddled with bullet holes and small spots of dark, crusted blood. The children searched in the fading afternoon light for some bread and canned food to replace their shrinking supplies, but there was little left in the looted aisles. They were able to find a couple of cans of soup, but all of the bread and vegetables were covered in a thick coating of fuzzy mold.
Theresa pulled a plastic-wrapped loaf of bread off the shelf, only to grimace disgustedly as she saw the moist green growth filling the inside of the bag. “What’s the date on that bread?” Caleb asked as she tossed it back on the shelf.
“I don’t know,” she said, turning to examine another shelf. “Who cares? It’s spoiled.”
“Yeah, but they’re all like that,” Caleb said, picking up the moldy loaf and peering at it curiously. He turned it over and looked at the expiration date.
It read, “1/15/13.”
“This is fresh,” Caleb muttered, peering carefully at the surrounding shelves. He pulled down a box of cereal, tearing the box open and pouring some of the flakes onto the shelf. They, too, were covered in mold.
The date on the box read “Aug 9 2013.”
“Something weird is going on here,” Caleb mumbled to himself.
Theresa peered around the corner of one of the shelves, scowling at Caleb with an exasperated look. “Duh! What gave it away, the dinosaurs?” she grumbled.
“No, no,” Caleb said, walking around the shelves and grabbing Theresa’s pack. “Look,” he said, flipping the pack open and pulling out the last of their bread. It was little more than a green blob at the bottom of the bag. “There’s something happening to the food. Some kind of super-fast mold or something.”
Theresa stared at the bag, her eyes wide with sudden realization. “Caleb,” she gasped, “what are we gonna’ eat?”
Caleb took a can opener from the pack and began opening one of the newly discovered cans. “These should still be okay,” he said. “But we should eat this one right away. I don’t know how quick this mold is going to grow.” Caleb popped the lid off the can and peered inside.
“It’s good,” he breathed, deeply relieved.
He and Theresa quickly grabbed spoons and devoured the soup, sitting amid the toppled shelves and scattered food. Out
side, the afternoon was quickly fading into evening. By the time they had finished their meal, the sunlight was gone. The sky was a brilliant purplish-blue, darkening rapidly above the black silhouettes of the empty buildings. Caleb and Theresa sat silently, watching the light fade and wondering if they would be safe in the store overnight.
Caleb decided to explore the rest of the store, hoping to find a more secure place to sleep. He began climbing lazily to his feet, then froze in a half-crouch as a deep, whistling scream echoed through the empty streets. Beside him, Theresa tensed, her eyes wide and hands shaking. “Caleb,” she whispered, “what was...”
“Shhh!” Caleb hissed, cocking his head and listening. He thought he could just make out the sound of other, more distant whistles.
“Quick, follow me,” he said, taking Theresa’s arm.
“Is it sirens?” Theresa asked hopefully.
Caleb shook his head grimly. “I don’t think so,” he whispered, leading her through a small storage room toward a narrow stairway. He paused halfway to the stairs, staring at a strange spot on the floor. Straining his eyes to see in the dim light, he leaned down to examine it more closely. Something about it was familiar, yet strange. It resembled a sort of a white paint-splatter or food stain, almost a foot across. Caleb scratched at it with the edge of his sneaker, noticing that it left white, chalky marks on the sole.
“What is that, a bird-turd?” Theresa asked.
“Sort of,” Caleb answered, tugging her quickly up the stairs. Outside, the piercing whistle cut through the night air once more, closer this time. Half a minute later, the children could clearly hear the sound of several other calls answering in the distance.
Caleb practically dragged Theresa to the top of the stairs, then spun to the right to run down a short hallway. Caleb noted absently that it looked like someone’s home, with the shapes of framed pictures hanging on the walls, their details unrecognizable in the dim light. Whoever owned that store must have lived in the apartment upstairs, he thought to himself, trying to force his eyes to adjust to the rapidly fading light. Stumbling frantically down the dark hall, Caleb’s foot hooked on something soft and heavy lying on the floor. He pitched forward onto the old floorboards, accidentally pulling Theresa down with him. As he glanced back to look at the object that had tripped him, Caleb’s heart thumped wildly in his chest. He heard a muffled cry beside him as Theresa spotted the dark shape.
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