Tomorrow We Rise

by Daniel P. Wilde

  “Wow, who’s the lucky bugger that gets to do that?” Jonas asked.

  “Dr. Andrew Jones, our self-proclaimed track star,” Shift replied. “While he’s out there, the rest of us will make our way to the shuttle.”

  “Guys,” Mike called. “The Skins are inside the base.”

  Shift and the others rushed over to the security system monitors on the back wall. The Skins were inside the base, but not inside their building; but everyone knew it was only a matter of time. They had to hurry.

  “How’s the jet way coming?” Shift asked.

  “Locked on now,” Hasani said. “Get everyone over here. We’ll be waiting.”

  August 11, 2093, 6:10 AM—Cape Canaveral, Florida

  Cain knew the perversions were on the base. He had lost his brief connection with Anta, but he would find her again. The other perversions were evading him, but he would find them too. Their stench would uncover their hiding place. But he had to hurry. The shuttle made him nervous.

  Cain’s troops rushed from building to building, searching for the perversions inside the massive air base. They scrambled over rooftops and under vehicles and machines. They were like a swarm of ants, hell-bent on devouring everything in their path. Only they weren’t devouring anything. They were saving their anger and ferocity for the perversions. Cain had given them free reign. They had only to bring him Anta, unharmed. Each of them knew what the penalty would be if Anta was bitten or injured.

  Cain watched as his troops searched the base. Why hadn’t they uncovered the perversions yet? What was going on? His grip on them was weakening, and clearly, their aptitude for the hunt was flagging as well. But he had a backup plan. He would stop the perversions one way or another. Using his unnamed power, some form of mutated telepathy and telekinesis that he’d not quite figured out, Cain directed troops stationed at hundreds of remote communications centers around the world. His power was not entirely gone. On his signal, they began destroying equipment and buildings and pulling down cellular towers, effectively shutting down communication ports the world over.

  “Okay, let’s go,” Shift called back to the group behind him.

  The arms and backpacks of every person in the group were loaded with provisions or weapons, and any personal items they still had with them. Everyone except Street. He was loaded down with Anta’s still form. As they made their way toward the jet way, Andrew broke off from the group and headed down a flight of stairs. He held a 2064 Nottington semi-automatic beam rifle that would automatically lock onto its target if he had the sites even remotely close to the mark. He was only slightly comforted by that. Sweat ran down his back as he made his way down several flights of stairs toward the door which would take him out onto the tarmac.

  So far, the Skins were not outside. The small group could see through the windows of the operations building as they ran toward the gate. Finally approaching bay 152, the windows began to show signs of life. Thankfully, it was only birds.

  “Everything’s still clear from our vantage point,” Hasani said quietly though Shift’s MEHD. “Nothing outside yet. Wait, the door’s opening. Looks like your guy.”

  “Keep an eye on him,” Shift said. “If you see anything approaching, even a long way off, let me know ASAP so I can get him out of there.”

  “Got it. He’s at the rear tires now. He knows what he’s looking for, right?”

  “Yeah, we went through it carefully,” Shift answered.

  “Okay, he’s moving forward now.”

  “Everything still look good out there?”

  “Yeah, still good . . . no, not good. I can see them. They’re moving very fast.”

  “Andrew!” Shift called out through the MEHD. “Get in here now!”

  Andrew didn’t hear Shift issue the warning. Communications had just gone down, but nobody knew it yet. Andrew was alone, unknowing, and the Skins were almost on top of him.

  Cain could smell one now—a male. It wasn’t Anta. But that meant Anta was probably close by, and he wanted her badly. He sent his army toward the terrible scent. They were almost upon it. Now he could see it through the eyes of one of his minions. His army was on the move. Only moments from now, they would have him.

  Andrew saw them before they saw him. He swore under his breath and wondered why he hadn’t been warned. He briefly watched, shocked by the horror of it, as the horde of demons climbed over rooftops and ran around the buildings on both sides of him. The red of their blood-stained torsos stood out in sharp contrast to the grayish-black tarmac. There must have been a hundred of them.

  Then he ran.

  They saw him, and their shrieks pierced the silence of the still morning air. The sound was deafening.

  Andrew ran as fast as his legs would carry him toward the bay doors. If he could get there, if he could get inside, he would be okay. He rounded the front of the ship and had to veer right as the horde approached from that side. A pungent, metallic odor overwhelmed his senses and he had to choke back bile that rose in his throat, threatening to cut off his air supply.

  His heart raced and his blood pumped as he approached the doors. But the horde was moving too fast—they could smell him too. They were right behind him. He turned and fired several shots into the throng as he ran backward toward the doors. Their enraged faces were the stuff of nightmares, and his fear threatened to immobilize him.

  Moments later, still running backward as the throng surrounded him, he ran into the door, cracking his elbow on the hard metal casing. Still firing in desperation, at point-blank range, he reached behind him, sending sharp pain up through his elbow and into his shoulder. He was searching for the sensor. He almost touched it.

  “Oh shite!” Hasani cried out as he watched the naked human-like beasts swarm over the man below on the tarmac. The man had been so close—he was almost there. But the Skins were so fast. Hasani had never seen anything like it. He’d heard what the others had told them about the Skins, but seeing it was something entirely different. Then the man rose from the ground, blood running down his neck and soaking the collar of his T-shirt. He reached out his hand, and touched the door sensor. It opened.

  “They’re inside!” Jonas yelled down the jet way to the people coming toward him. “Run!”

  “Faster!” Shift cried out. His friends were already running. They ran faster. Some of them had already boarded the shuttle. Thankfully, Street and Anta were among them. But Mike, John and Shift were bringing up the rear.

  John pushed forward with renewed strength, scooping up Suvan as he reached her. Then they were inside, yelling for Mike and Shift to hurry.

  “Go, go!” Shift yelled to Mike, pushing him in the back. Mike’s body was being tested. He hadn’t exercised in a long, long time. The Skins were coming. Mike could hear them. He could smell them. It was awful and made him gag. That slowed him down even more. The Skins were so close.

  Shift looked over his shoulder as he ran, but the Skins weren’t in sight yet. They were close though. The pounding of their footsteps were loud; equal, he thought, to the pounding of his heart. They were probably entering the jet way now, just around the corner behind him. And Andrew, or whoever he was now, was probably in the lead.

  “Duck!” Street yelled as he took a few steps out from the shuttle’s hatch toward Mike and Shift. They both ducked reflexively as they ran. Shots rang out from in front of them and the whizzing of bullets sounded just over their heads. Screams pierced the air from behind as Skins began to fall. The noise from the guns and the screams was deafening. Soon, Shift could barely hear the pounding of his heart or the footsteps of the Skins.

  “Keep running,” Street yelled as he continued firing into the pack of Skins trailing Shift and Mike. As the men finally passed Street on their way to the ship, he began to back away from the oncoming mass of naked flesh, still firing at will. Among the Skins in the jet way, now lying on the floor in the clutches of death, was Dr. Andrew Jones. Beside him, Dr. Yurgi Shevchuk raced ahead, eyes bulging at the prospect of
his next victim.

  Street wretched as he saw his own bullets pierce the forehead of his once-friend and mentor. Dr. Shevchuk fell to the floor, blood pooling immediately under his mangled head. More Skins rushed across Andrew’s and Yurgi’s lifeless bodies, snapping bones with eerie cracks, as they continued to scramble toward the ship. They’re too close, Street thought as Jonas and Hasani stepped up next to him and started to fire.

  This moment would decide the fate of the human race.

  More perversions appeared at the door to the great ship, firing guns at his army. They had to slow down. Cain ordered it. He could feel the pain of his brothers and sisters writhing on the ground. The pain was too great, and Cain felt it all.

  Mike fell through the shuttle doors and collapsed into a heap on the floor, choking and coughing, his face pale and drawn. Shift came in right behind him, tripping over Mike and falling to his knees. Jonas and Hasani followed as Mike rolled out of the way. Finally, Street backed in and Hasani slammed his hand onto the door sensor. The big door closed on the outstretched hand of a Skin, chopping it off at the wrist.

  “Closed!” Jonas called out as he and others stared at a hand writhing around on the floor of the shuttle like a severed lizard tail. Within seconds, it stopped moving.

  “Lock initiated,” Jerad replied through the com on the wall.

  After several agonizing moments—the piercing screams of the Skins outside the shuttle doors causing several members of the group to cover their ears—the ship began to move. The small, frightened group could not only hear, but could actually feel pounding and shuffling on the sides and the roof of the great ship as Skins jumped aboard from the open jet way. It was amazing to hear, not because it was novel, but because the sound was so loud and intense despite the thickness and quality of the construction of the ship. No sound should have been heard through those walls.

  Several of the humans watched out the windows as the ship backed away from the port. The Skins were falling from the smooth, round surface of the shuttle, one by one. As they hit the hard surface of the tarmac below, fragments of bone and drops of blood sprayed the tarmac around them.

  Shift looked toward the open jet way. Cain was there. Unlike every previous encounter with the giant man, this time, Cain was howling with the others.

  They had gotten away. Anta was with them. Cain screamed to the sky as the shuttle banked slowly to the right and eventually left his field of vision. Finally, the noise from the engines died away. The only sound that remained was the heavy breathing of his army. Heavy breathing? What was happening? Were they tired? He would need to get to the bottom of that. But for now, he could only watch the sky and try to figure out what he would do without Anta.

  August 11, 2093, 6:49 AM—Somewhere in orbit around the Earth

  “Andrew’s gone,” Neirioui said quietly to Suvan as she cradled her daughter and rocked back and forth at the front of the main shuttle lounge. “But he gave his life for us. His reward will be in Heaven.”

  “I know that momma, but I will still miss him.”

  “We all will.”

  Street and Angel sat side-by-side in silence in the lounge, holding hands. Street didn’t have the heart, nor the capacity, to tell his friends what he had done to Yurgi. It was eating him up inside. He would never tell. They would never know.

  Shift, Hasani and Anta sat in the back corner of the lounge, somberly discussing the fate of Andrew and all of their other friends and family. Anta was still breathing heavily from what had felt like a hammer-blow to her skull from the pressure of Cain’s voice in her head.

  “I can’t lose any more of my friends,” Anta said, mostly to herself. She was despondent, and the sorrow was eating her up inside.

  “What happened back there?” Hasani asked. “Why didn’t your man run?”

  “I don’t think he heard me,” Shift said. “Just as I began to yell to him, my MEHD beeped off.”

  “Did the batteries die?” John asked, walking over to the group, even though he knew it was unlikely. Batteries on electronic equipment could last for weeks between charges and the group had been charging them at every opportunity, not knowing whether any particular time might be the last for a while.

  “No. It’s still fully charged. I was talking to Hasani right when the Skins got there.”

  John pulled his MEHD from his pocket and touched Shift’s number. It connected. “Well, they work now,” he said.

  “Yeah, but we’re not on Earth anymore. We’re probably operating off some relay system on the ship, right?” Shift asked.

  “Yeah, probably,” Hasani replied. “Do you think the Skins could have shut down Earth communications somehow?”

  “Let’s talk to Mike. Maybe he can figure that out from here.”

  Feeling truly safe for the first time in months, the weight of lost loved ones hit most of them more strongly than ever before. The adrenaline was gone. But this time, the tears that had been shed previously were not forthcoming. Instead, many felt a depressing weight bear down on them. Most of them had difficulty even organizing the feelings and thoughts they were experiencing.

  Despite the sorrow, some of them explored the ship, whispering as they found new contraptions and explored new passageways.

  Dr. Bird and Marilyn Swenson had performed health checks on most of the group, and were just finishing, having found no health problems other than a highly-elevated heart rate in Mike Petrovsky and some uneasy stomachs from the lower gravity on the shuttle, which took some getting used to.

  When Mike had finished his physical check-up, he checked the communications systems on Earth. He could only access communication systems in the largest cities, but nearly every accessible system was relaying operation malfunctions.

  The Net was still operable though, which meant that USCAN was still up; but all cellular systems, including those operating the MEHDs, were down. Thankfully, they were no longer on Earth, so it didn’t really matter. Communications on the ship, and, presumably, on the moon, would continue to function.

  On the bridge, Jonas, Jerad and Nelise discussed the flight, the escape, and their luck at having no problems during take-off, apart from losing Andrew.

  Several minutes later, Shift and John arrived on the bridge.

  “Gentlemen, we owe you our lives.”

  “Yes, you do,” Jonas said as he rose from his seat. He walked over to Shift and held out his hand. “But you realize that we owe you our lives?”

  “What do you mean?” Shift asked.

  “I mean that if you and your group hadn’t stayed alive, the whole human race would be down to five of us. That’s not much of a life if you ask me. Plus, we didn’t create E-rase. You people did that. So, we owe you our lives, twice over.”

  Shift looked down at the ground, then mumbled, “I hope it was worth it.”

  “It was,” Hasani said as he and his sister walked through the bridge doors behind Shift. “It was, my friend.”

  Shift turned around as Anta reached her arms up to pull Shift to her. “I love you,” she whispered into his ear.

  “I love you too.”

  August 11—Space

  “Hey everybody, I don’t want to spend any time discussing what we all already know,” Shift said quietly to the group surrounding him in the shuttle’s conference room. “But I do want to tell each of you how proud I am of you. We survived. And we wouldn’t have done so if each one of you hadn’t put your heart and soul into helping each other. That includes our new friends here.” Shift pointed to his right where Jonas, Hasani, Tom, Misty and Jerad were seated, facing the group.

  “Our pleasure,” Jonas said.

  “Well, we owe you a great debt for your help and sacrifice,” Shift said. “Unfortunately, we don’t have much to give.” Shift looked over the tired faces in front of him. He was proud of them. They had accomplished so much. But the work wasn’t finished. And he knew that they knew it too.

  “I am going to let Jonas give us a run-down of what to expec
t when we get to the lunar colonies—or what’s left of them.”

  “Thanks Shift,” Jonas said. “I want to tell you what to expect and answer your questions. But first, let me tell you how wonderful it is for me—for us—to finally meet you. We’ve been waiting and hoping that we would have the pleasure. And it truly is that.

  “Now, let me give you a physical status of the colonies. Two shells are non-functional, but we don’t really need them. We will land at the International Lunar Station in the United States Colony. Everything there is in working order. Unfortunately, there are hundreds of bodies in the homes and buildings within the shell. Job number one will be to remove them.

  “We’ve cleared all the bodies from the hangars, offices and control rooms around the landing bays, and the smell is better there; but outside the main bay doors, you will be greeted with a smell sour enough to knock you over.”

  “We’ve been there, man,” Street said.

  “I’m sure you have,” Jonas replied, smiling sadly. He had momentarily forgotten that the exhausted people in front of him had lived through not only the death and destruction of the human race, with all of its accompanying grief and gore, but also a fight for their very lives from the Skins. He would have to remember that.

  “There are living quarters inside the International Station, but they are in need of cleaning and, of course, the removal of bodies. If we start there, we could have a fairly nice place to live in just a few days. In the meantime, we can sleep, eat and live onboard the shuttle inside the bay. It won’t be too comfortable, but it will do while we prepare a home in the main station.”

  “What’s it like there,” Jon Porter asked. His voice was quiet, but his eyes were alight with curiosity. This was the greatest adventure a young man could have, and he was excited. Suvan sat next to him with her hand close to his. Suvan’s mother watched them out of the corner of her eyes, hiding her smile.