by Jess Harpley
“Sway, what’s your damage?” Xander pulled her to sit upright and she yelped again.
“Broken rib, or ribs.” Her lungs could no longer fill with air, and each word was a painful stab in her chest.
Eli gripped her shoulder. “Hang in there, you’re going to make it.”
“I’m not so sure,” she laughed with difficulty, “fell off the wall trying to defend my post. That’s what I have to explain to God when I see him.”
“Suck it up, Sway!” Fabel shook her, fury in his voice.
Somehow, her pain lessened at his command. “Yes, sir, Second Lieutenant!”
The truck bumped, but she hardly felt it. A warm sensation of hope swelled inside her as she thought they just might survive. The truck was quickly approaching the train, and frightened citizens as they clambered onto it. Sway turned to glance behind. The Priyon were a few blocks back, but not slowing.
Her heart sank as the truck lurched, sputtered, then died. They were still a hundred meters from the train, which was already moving. People were throwing their belongings up onto the carts, then leaping into others, doing whatever they could to not be left behind.
They hopped from the cab, Sojin taking Sway up into her grip once again.
“What is it, what’s wrong?” Reese ran alongside them, his red eyes welling with tears now for Sway.
“Broken rib, she’s fine.” Sojin barked at him, “Get moving, help those people!”
Sway wheezed, looking over her shoulder at the mass of death no more than four hundred meters from them. “I’m sorry.” Sojin didn’t respond. Pain, greater than the one in her side, leapt into her mind as she thought of Dymtre. Had he made it to the train? Was he safe with Isla?
They passed other citizens, the train becoming louder. Looking forward, she saw they were nearly there. Vendum was at the platform with several other Mews, guiding the humans, helping those who could not help themselves.
They came to the one functional power depot in town, just a few meters off from the train tracks. “Sojin, put me down. Help them.” Sway pointed to a man wrangling two young girls and a baby, alone. She set her on the cold, cracked concrete without hesitation, and Sway knelt, aiming her M4 down the street. Eli fell beside her, taking careful aim at the Priyon between the streams of fearful humans.
Leandra joined them, her deafening .50 shaking clouds of dust from the ground. They were still out of range, but Eli and Leandra pelted back the front runners effectively.
“Hurry!” Sway shouted to the stragglers who were dropping their belongings, bolting with desperation. The screeching of the metal train wheels on the steel track rang in her ears, dousing the screams of frightened families. Dozens of Beacon members worked together to throw citizens up onto the carts, the train picking up speed. They can outrun them, she thought, they’re going to make it.
But then what? Her mind went cold as she fired a round into the aliens, dropping one as ten more took its place. They were outnumbered, possibly millions to one. She fired again, down went a Priyon. They were getting much too close. They’d hide in Vancouver for a matter of days before the swarm was on them, and the Priyon would prevail.
She took steps back, though she knew none of it mattered. The broken rib, while feeling numb from adrenaline, would likely kill her if the beasts didn’t.
“Eli, Leandra, get to the train!” Sway’s voice was rough with rawness. Leandra ditched, dragging her massive weapon with her.
“I said I wouldn’t leave you,” Eli snapped another Priyon down, the horde seeming meters away.
She ripped him from the ground despite the screaming pain in her chest, “I’m going too, let’s move!”
“But the others!” He looked back as she forced him to run to the train. Desperate shouts of the slower citizens were muffled by sparks and the splashes of blood.
“They’re fucked, Eli! Go!” Her heart ached. What if it was Dymtre back there?
There were still so many at the tracks. Unable to run and catch the train, they depended on the robots to toss them up onto it. The last of the day’s light had all but faded, leaving a deep blue sky above them and orange outlined clouds. Sway inhaled, as deep as she could, smelling the pine, the smoke of the wood stoking train engines, the blood.
Turning on her heel, she took careful aim at the power station to the right and unloaded on it, shooting down the transformers. Sparks erupted at the station, and explosions rocketed toward the street. Strips of lightning hopped from body to body, setting fires as they went. Humans and Priyon alike stumbled, engulfed in flames. The shockwave pushed them back, and maybe, just maybe, bought the remaining citizens enough time.
Her nerves unraveled as she limped to the back of the line with Eli, Fabel, and Richard, their guns trained down the street. The smoke made it impossible to see, and they coughed. The houses on the left side of Singh caught fire, and it spread wildly.
“They’re burning!” Leandra cried, her finger limply pointing to the people they’d once called family, neighbor, friend.
Vendum grabbed Eil’s shoulder. “It’s time to start running.”
The Priyon cleared the smoke, stumbling and disoriented, but advancing still. They looked to each other, then to the crowd of twenty still waiting for assistance at the side of the speeding train. The caboose was nearing the loading platform. There was no way all of them would make it.
Xander waved to Fabel, “Get them out of here! It’s your cell now!”
“Sir!” Fabel yelled, gripping Sway under the arm.
She pulled away. “I’m too slow. Go!”
Seeing he was about to protest, Leandra grabbed Eli, yanking him towards the tracks. Sickening crunches came from behind as citizens threw themselves at the carts, falling under the wheels instead. Sway’s gaze rested on Reese as Xander pushed him west to run and board the departing salvation. Their eyes met, and he screamed.
“No! Sarah, no!” He struggled against Xander, but Vendum grabbed Reese around the waist, hauling him and the last child onto the train. For a moment, she negotiated again. Broken ribs aren’t fatal. If I could run just fast enough to catch the end, I could still…
She whirled back towards the street, firing on anything, everything. It was too late, no point in hoping. The last train car passed, and the remaining civilians cried out in fear. Taking steps back, each shot became wilder and bullets ricocheted off the hard protective casing of their enemy.
Click, click, click. Her trusty M4 was empty. Dropping the useless weapon to the ground, she pulled her sidearm from its holster. The wall of aliens was silhouetted by fire, an orange tidal wave about to crash over them. Bang! One Priyon dead. She would make them pay for every life they took. Bang! Another down. She would be the final wrath of Kamloops.
Xander stood beside her, his sidearm drawn, and they backed into a half circle around the last humans. Sojin sprung from behind, laying waste to the enemies at their front. They were coming down Halston too, from the east. Xander and Sway didn’t waste a shot, though it was futile.
Her cell leader shouted over the commotion, “You’ve still got balls, Sway!” He took several more steps back, their fate closing in around them.
“They’re going to make it. It’s not all lost. Just us.”
Time stopped.
She felt as though she understood everything, and nothing, all at once. The Priyon had never wanted peace. They didn’t agree to a cease-fire to protect themselves; they did it to rebuild.
It took infants years to mature and break through their shells. Apparently, eighty years. That was what they needed to overcome what was left of Humanity. There probably was no darkness, no unstoppable force attracted to technology. How stupid. How could she have been so stupid? Eli was right. She was too trusting.
Then, everything happened so fast.
The first hit felt like running headlong into a brick wall, the second, like being crushed by that wall. Sway stumbled, turning and tumbling as she was knocked to the ground. The pain in her r
ibs was a distant, pleasant memory in comparison to the exquisite agony brought by a Priyon leg piercing her gut, then her shoulder.
If she could breathe, she would have screamed. Instead, her mouth opened, contorted in anguish, her teeth painted with blood. Another trample half severed her leg and she jerked uncontrollably. Another stomping claw ripped her left hand apart, three fingers dangling limply as she tried to move the arm to her chest. They should have shot the remaining citizens, not wasted bullets on the unstoppable devastation.
Soon, the trampling became background noise, the shadows of enemies long ago. Her body was cold, and numb, unwilling to respond to her mind’s commands. She tried to pull in breath, but it was like trying to fill a vacuum that was sucking the oxygen out the bottom.
“Xander.” She used the last of the air in her throat to speak. He was there beside her, head mangled, brain matter spread over the concrete. She didn’t think it would be that bad. It would only hurt for a short time, she’d said to Dymtre. How wrong she’d been. The torture seemed to go on for eternity, the ache unbearable as she failed to fill her burning lungs.
Kill me, please, someone, she silently begged. A distant explosion rang out, fire filling the night sky to the west.
She only had to endure another minute or two. She would suffocate soon, and then, she’d be with her mother again, and her father. She would be with Dymtre, and Isla. She could be with Reese. They wouldn’t make it, couldn’t. How could they escape that herd? It was only a matter of time, and they would all succumb. Humanity snuffed out.
Her remaining fingers clawed at the ground, finding her .22 pistol. Sweet salvation was so near, if she could just raise it to her head, it could all be over. Weakly, her arm moved to her chin, but she hadn’t the strength to pull the trigger. Come on Sway, you’ve got more than this! With everything she had, she clicked it back.
Chapter 10: The future derailed
They fired from the open carts as Priyon streamed around them from every direction. The train lurched and slowed as they broke through the community wall, and the enemy gained. The young boy wailed in the corner and Vendum cooed him, “It’s all fine, quiet now. They need to concentrate.”
Eli’s L96 clicked empty, and he dropped it to the floor of the car, retrieving the Barretta from the back of his pants. I’d never leave you, his own voice taunted him as Sway’s face flashed in his mind.
They passed into the tunnel, a brief reprieve from the forthcoming destruction, and they took a second to compose themselves in the darkness. Doused in moonlight once more, the Priyon shrieks reminded them of their fate.
Reese shouted over the scraping of metal wheels on the track, “Who’s got a spare mag of 556!”
“Last one!” Fabel tossed it his way, then with a growl, “Make it count everyone!”
Like they needed to be told. Every successful kill was their survival, every wasted shot, damnation. And you know I’d never leave you behind. You’re my sniper. Her voice tormented him. He abandoned her. He should have died with her.
The train jostled. Then again, even harder, and a snap rang out. Leandra held tightly to the door and peered backwards. “They’re pushing the cars over!”
The crying boy descended into hysteria, holding tightly to Eli’s robotic friend as he attempted to leave the child. “I have to get them back upright on the tracks!” Vendum wrenched the child’s grip from his arms.
Eli poked out the north side of the cart, and fired with care towards the back, clearing the enemy away for Vendum. They leapt at the sides of the train, clinging with anything they had. Why were they so desperate to kill them? Why now? What had they done?
His eyes teared as the wind whipped through his unruly blonde hair. Vendum reached the last boxcar, and with one leg against the second to last, which was halfway off the tracks itself, he corrected it.
A terrifying sound like the roar of an angry waterfall flew overhead. “Priyon aircraft!” Richard shouted, pointing towards the light in the sky, only meters off the south side of the train.
“Shoot it down!” Fabel yelled, taking aim at the bottom of the craft.
The bullets seemed to have no effect, dissolving into brilliant neon purple puffs as they reached the hull of the ship.
“It’s protected by something!” Reese shouted as everyone disengaged.
Eli looked back to the end cart, and screamed for Vendum to hurry. Perhaps he could do something, take it out of the air with the link he shared with all other human technology, or jump on it and rip it apart. Eli’s mind flailed with wild, frantic thoughts as the impending annihilation of what might be humanity’s last chance grew nearer.
A new sound dominated all others. The high-pitched whine shook the air, and Eli instinctively put his hands to his ears, dropping the Barretta. Wicked shadows danced over the hillside against the pines as a blinding white light illuminated the night.
Suddenly, all was silent. He took a deep breath, watching as the shadows lengthened. The light was moving. Eli’s eyes darted to the front, unable to look away as the globe of fiery destruction shredded their last hope of survival.
Explosions boomed ahead, and the train became erratic. The cart tipped as he groped for the door, but just missed. His feet flew up over him and he stared back at the boxcar he was departing as Eli’s cell, the last of his family, hurtled towards the lake on the other side.
Dirt flew as he tumbled, unable to make out what was up and what was down. Skidding to a halt face down, he made to cry out, but discovered he couldn’t. His head swam, and a ringing in his hot ears began to throb. His broken limbs, bruised abdomen, and ripped flesh refused to move at his command.
“Fuck you!” A voice, Leandra’s voice, came through the pounding in Eli’s head. He ordered his body to stand, to do anything, but managed only a wiggle as he panted into the cold ground.
Leandra’s 50 rang out twice more, and then it was silenced, but she wasn’t. She screamed, but it was unlike anything Eli had ever heard. The terror in her shrill turned his stomach and he tried again to sit himself upright.
“Mom! Ah! No, please! Mom, help me!”
“Le–dra,” he tried, but his mouth filled with bitter earth.
Her wails wound down into whimpers as the marching of Priyon feet faded into the distance.
Time was lost to Eli, and when he finally rolled over with a yelp, the moon had long since descended the sky. The fire of the train wreck was a low burn, mirrored by the pink on the horizon.
The sky twirled counter-clockwise, then snapped back, over and over. The dim remaining stars zagged and popped, turning Eli’s stomach with nausea. Taking a shallow breath, he looked right. Half of the train was in a mangled heap, metal jutting out in every direction. The other half stuck out of the lake, partially submerged. The morning was still, as if nothing at all happened.
No Priyon, no ship, no humans.
Just Eli.
He lifted his hands above him, surprised to see every finger present, and not bent in unnatural angles.
“What does it matter?” he whispered, tears gathering as a lump swelled in his chest. Devastation immobilized him, freezing his aching heart as he cried into the frosty air. I’m the last.
“No!” he shouted to the great, deep blue expanse above.
“Fuck!” he rolled to his feet, ignoring the signals of a broken leg. “Fuck you! Fuck all of you!” Rational thought left him as he gripped dirt and stone, throwing it in any direction. The limp, dragging foot caught on a root, flinging him to the ground once more.
He screamed until his throat was raw, but no Priyon came. Nothing could hear him, not even God. Weak, he allowed sleep to take him again, praying he would die.
Thirty-fourth of Belk, the Eighty-fourth year of D’Mjak
The invasion is complete. Scattered populations of Humans still exist, but they are so small and difficult to locate, it could take us another twenty cycles to complete the clean up. I suggest we release the clearing agent, and allow time to take c
are of our remaining issues.
His mind raced for a moment. Humans had been one of the more difficult species they’d encountered, so resilient. Could the few thousand left cause problems for them? Maybe. But he was willing to bet the Pesciten wouldn’t mind having a few around for experimentation, or entertainment.
He continued into the monitor, We patiently await your decision, then cut the feed. The message would arrive in a few hours, and then he would have his response in a few more. The Priyon wandered aimlessly outside the craft, having nothing more to do.
Bedelcast’s screen blinked in notification of an incoming live message, and he switched on the display with a flick. It was Rokar’Ih, the grid six battle commander, over the north-eastern continent. “Have you sent the request?” She asked, her pale complexion looking green in the dimness of the ship cabin.
Sucking a deep breath of Earth air, he nodded, “I have, just now.”
Her forehead wrinkled, the flaps of her tall Yimja ears turning a bright shade of pink. “Why the holdup?”
“There were some final matters to attend to, and some readings to verify. Grid eleven was particularly difficult to deal with.” He lied. The real reason was he was trying to devise a way to spin their incomplete success into an actionable disassembly of the army.
Rokar’Ih grunted with a grin, “Having troubles with the little insects, were you, Bedelcast?”
“Insects,” he scoffed, knowing she meant the Humans, and not the Priyon. Rokar’Ih held no respect for the living things not part of The Coalition—even still, held no respect for some of those which were. But she held a particular disdain for the Priyon: their war tools. Worthless, mindless, insects, she considered them.
Bedelcast continued, “Yes, they were clinging to life most desperately. I almost felt bad for ripping it away from them.” Another lie. He did feel bad. More importantly than their lives, he’d taken their dreams.
“Almost,” She leered, “how very gentle. Interesting they made you Lead Battle Commander in Plynk’s stead, especially after your mate’s tragic accident. Why is it you didn’t return home for their burning ceremony?”