The Dark at the End of the Tunnel

by Taylor Grand

  Now less than 24 hours away from docking at Zeta-12, they had finally reached sub space communication range. Tael was an attractive looking woman in her late sixties. She had already gone over their standard quarantine protocols, and Vega had agreed to keep his passengers onboard until proper inoculations were dispensed. No one would be allowed to enter Zeta-12 until they had been screened and cleared.

  Eventually the conversation turned from strictly business to more personal issues. “How are you holding up, Captain? You don’t look well.”

  Vega felt self-conscious, realizing at that moment how much he’d let himself go during the past six months. He’d done nothing but eat and sit with Arrycc when he could. He’d gained twenty pounds easy, and despite shaving that morning for the first time in half a year, the perpetual sleep deprivation, constant worry, and lack of any physical activity had taken its toll. He looked like hell, and he knew it.

  “I haven’t slept well these past few months,” Vega said. That part was true. Then the lies began as he interweaved the threads of a true story he’d heard about back in his Academy days. “We had a serious droid malfunction—total systems failure. She made some miscalculations on some of the passengers’ cryo-fluid levels. We lost 24 people. The backup systems woke me up before anyone else died.”

  Tael looked shocked. “That’s terrible news, Captain. I’m so sorry. Every life is precious—now so more than ever. When did this happen?”

  “A few months ago…goddamned droid was in full meltdown when I woke up—had to take her down with a disrupter. As if things hadn’t been bad enough before…” He rubbed his face with his hands dramatically.

  “And you never went back into stasis,” Tael said. It was more of a statement than a question.

  “I figured, what’s the point? I knew we’d reach you in a few months.”

  Tael’s brow furrowed at that. “Being alone on that ship, with no one to communicate with—you know the risks as well as I do.”

  Vega was well aware. ‘Solipsism Syndrome’ was a serious risk for anyone who spent long periods alone in space. It created the overwhelming feeling that nothing was real—or simply a dream. Sufferers had been known to feel so lonely and detached from the world they became utterly, and terribly indifferent.

  But he wasn’t alone was he? He still had his son. And he certainly wasn’t losing his mind. He was just weary and emotionally drained. Who the hell wouldn’t be after all he’d been through since the invasion?

  “I appreciate the concern, Doc. But I’m going to wake my crew in less than 24 hours—once we’re in navigation range.”

  Tael seemed to accept this answer and nodded politely. “I look forward to seeing you, your crew and passengers soon.”

  After a few more pleasantries Tael signed off.

  Within a day Vega was going to have to wake his crew. He had no choice but to make a decision about his son.

  He sat there for a long time collecting his thoughts…and his nerve.

  ****

  He found Arrycc a few hours later, sitting rigidly, staring blankly at the holo-screen; his face was drenched in fresh blood. Vega was reminded of a time when Arrycc—who was two years old at the time—had buried his face into his bowl and covered it with tomato sauce. It was a sweet memory that was now twisted forever in his mind.

  In Arrycc’s hands was the gouged and glistening head of his latest victim. Curled under his feet like a human footstool was the body it had once been attached to. He was watching a movie and holding the head as if it were a bucket of popcorn. As Vega stepped closer, he recognized the face of the teenage girl. She was the one he’d saved from Arrycc all those months ago. Her eyes were wide open now and staring up at the face of her killer.

  The boy didn’t acknowledge the presence of his father. Vega did his best to ignore the blood pooled around Arrycc on the lounger as he sat down. On the screen were images from ancient Jerusalem and a man nailed to a cross.

  A vampire watching a documentary about Christianity…

  After a protracted, awkward silence, Vega said, “I have to wake my crew in a few hours. We’ll be at the Zeta-12 outpost by this time tomorrow.”

  The boy said nothing. He stared at the images on the holo-screen with a look of bemusement. It was the first hint of emotion Vega had seen on his son’s face since as far back as he could remember.

  “Arrycc, listen. I can’t help you…cure you…unless you work with me. We have to talk. Figure this out—now.”

  A grin appeared on the boy’s face.

  Vega slammed his fist against the lounger. “Goddamnit, Arrycc I’m talking to you!”

  The boy turned toward him slowly and began to speak; it was like a winter grave had opened—cold, moist and dark.

  “There is…no…Arrycc…here.”

  Vega recoiled at the voice that sounded only partially human. It appeared to be a great effort for the boy to speak, as if he were learning to use his vocal chords all over again.

  “Such…a…primitive…way to communicate.”

  Vega stifled the impulse to scream. He was accustomed to his silent son, had fooled himself into thinking that he was still reachable. But the voice emanating from the boy brought a hideous new reality crashing down.

  Arrycc turned back toward the holo-screen. “Your…religious wars fascinate me.”

  Vega could think of nothing to say.

  “You have killed each other by the millions…because you don’t agree about what happens to you…after you kill each other.”

  Vega stared at him, mouth agape.

  “Your mind is full of questions.”

  Vega gave a deep sigh. Yes.

  The boy turned toward Vega and placed a small hand against his cheek; the tiny frigid fingers pulsed with a strength that unnerved him.

  Suddenly, what felt like an invisible icepick lanced Vega’s brain; his body went numb. With great effort he tried to remove his son’s hand, but to his horror, discovered he couldn’t move.

  A presence entered his mind…invading his thoughts, violating him.

  Images flooded his mind. No…not images, more like tangible memories…memories that weren’t his. They were alien, in the truest sense of the word.

  He was back on Earth. He could see, taste it. Smell it. But the experience wasn’t nostalgic. It was terrible…it was…God, no…

  It was the end of everything.

  Why? Vega’s mind pleaded. Why us?

  The question had lain dormant in him—gnawed at him, from the beginning.

  Somewhere beyond the alien thoughts, he felt something familiar. A comforting presence. Pure. Innocent.

  Of course…it was his son!

  I won’t let it hurt you, Daddy.

  Was that a thought…or a feeling? Vega couldn’t tell. But it was Arrycc all right. Some small part of him still alive…still fighting…still loving his father.

  Vega reached for him in his mind. Goddamnit, he was the one who should be comforting his son. He was the one who should be the protector, not the other way around.

  I’m sorry, Daddy.

  The voice seemed to come from deep within, as if beneath a great body of water. It repeated the same thing over and over—I’m sorry, Daddy. I’m sorry, Daddy—the voice sinking deeper into an ocean of nothingness.

  At that moment Vega knew—he was only alive because his son’s love had been stronger than the parasite. And the final gift he offered his father were answers to the questions that had haunted him since the start of the invasion.

  The information came all at once like a quantum speed download. But they weren’t thoughts as normally processed by the brain. This was experiential. His mind was not his own anymore. He was experiencing the past through the prism of an alien intelligence.

  No longer was he in the known universe—it was another dimension of time and space. He was one of them now. There was no English translation for their name; the most appropriate word his mind could grasp was…Legion.

  They were
more sophisticated than anything he could imagine, yet like all living organisms, they required sustenance. As interdimensional predators their mission was simple: eat and reproduce.

  The Legion that invaded Earth was a tiny fraction of their race’s immeasurable size—yet they had consumed the human population in a matter of months. It was the way of the Legion, an event called the Feeding that took place once every few million years.

  At the end of the Legion’s feeding and reproductive cycle, they would withdraw from the reaped world and return to their interdimensional limbo, where they would hibernate—until it was again time for the Feeding.

  But that wasn’t the true horror of the Legion. They were also a highly advanced race of engineers that created life to sustain their great hunger throughout the multiverse. They seeded planets and gave them time to develop and grow, returning millions of years later for the harvest.

  Earth was only one of these worlds.

  It had been seeded by the Legion with hominids genetically cultivated to evolve and populate the planet.

  Vega screamed in his mind, desperate to break contact with the information stream. He feared his sanity was starting to slip.

  It couldn’t be!The Legion had created humanity and nearly destroyed it. They were our gods and our devils.

  Something snapped then, like an invisible tether, and the telepathic link was disconnected. Vega immediately regained control over his thoughts and his body again.

  His eyes snapped open and he recoiled at the face of his son, whose nose was only inches from his. The curves of his smile had barbs to the edges.

  “I know you have a disruptor hidden on you,” said the ghastly thing within his son’s body. “But you won’t use it. You love him too much.”

  Arrycc’s head exploded outward in a fine red spray, showering Vega with his own flesh and blood.

  “You’re right…” said Vega. “I love him too much.”

  He tossed the disruptor, still warm from its discharge, across the room.

  He collapsed onto the destroyed body of his son and allowed himself to weep. It grew into a horrific wail as the terrible grieving he’d kept bottled up inside finally came pouring out.

  ****

  Vega spent several hours cleaning up the remains of his son’s body before awakening a handful of essential crewmembers. The landing preparations and briefing of his most senior staff were welcome distractions. When he brought up the tragedy of losing 26 passengers, he had shed real tears; the fact that his son had been amongst the victims went a long way toward avoiding suspicion.

  Docking at Zeta-12 had gone like clockwork. Dr. Tael, along with two very attractive lab assistants, had been gracious, accommodating, and had screened the crew of the Phoenix with diplomacy and grace. Once the screenings were completed and the landing party of ten had been cleared, Tael gave them a tour of the impressive facility. According to Tael’s calculations, their terraforming work was nearly complete.

  That evening, a feast for Vega and his crew was prepared; it was a celebration of their survival and the human race.

  Vega was grateful. Tael and her team’s hospitality, empathy and optimism had gone a long way toward lifting the somber spirits of the crew. He actually heard Sygar, his science officer, laugh at a joke Kentol, the communications officer, had made. Sygar retold the joke and sent the whole crew into gales of laughter. The joke wasn’t really that funny, but in times of great stress, laughter was like a release valve—once it was opened, it came in an unstoppable flood.

  When the laughter had finally subsided, Vega felt light-headed. He couldn’t remember the last time he had laughed that hard. He felt positively giddy. As he looked around at his crew, he noticed they all had odd, silly expressions on their faces. If he didn’t know any better, he’d have sworn they all looked…

  Drugged.

  That was Vega’s last thought before the darkness consumed him.

  ****

  “Wake up, Captain Vega. They want you awake when they feed.”

  Vega’s eyes fluttered open. He was strapped to a gurney and gazing into the cold eyes of Dr. Tael.

  The gray-haired woman offered a perverse grin. “Apparently, adrenaline makes our blood taste that much sweeter.”

  Vega had been stripped naked and was covered with a thin, bloodstained sheet. He struggled futilely against his bindings. Within minutes his gurney was being pushed through a long, narrow passageway. The lighting was sparse, casting everything in shadow. They appeared to be in the lower levels of Zeta-12, probably somewhere in the storage area.

  Tael was walking along the right side of him tapping notes into a com-pad. Vega glanced up to see a fresh-faced woman with lovely hair and a perfectly shaped nose looking down at him as she pushed the gurney through the murkiness. One of Tael’s lab assistants—Myris was her name?

  It had been impossible to keep all of their names straight; the Zeta-12 crew was over 70 strong. He suddenly recalled a term he’d heard from stories back on Earth: “Familiars.” They were a lesser known, but essential part of ancient vampire lore. Like so many facets of vampire legend that had originated with the Legion, they had proved to be true. Familiars were humans who worked with vampires but had not yet been turned; they were useful because of their ability to walk in the daylight and do the dirty work of their masters.

  Some familiars were controlled psychically, while others had personal reasons for their service; the promise of power and immortality were irresistible to some.

  Zeta-12 had never been humankind’s last hope—it was to be its final stop. His crew had been doomed from the day they left ORION. There had never been a cure, of that he was convinced. It had been a lure to get the very last of them—the Legion didn’t leave survivors.

  The gurney stopped abruptly. Tael entered a code into a control interface built into the wall. A moment later, a dull metal door slid open, and the foul odor that wafted out made Vega gag. Neither Tael nor her assistant seemed to be bothered.

  “I’ll take it from here.” Tael said to the blonde, who glanced down at Vega, offering a smile devoid of warmth. “Goodbye,” she said.

  A space station populated with familiars, Vega thought. His crew never stood a chance.

  He had heard stories about familiars—or people like them—back on Earth during the invasion; some were high-ranking government officials and military officers that had helped the vamps during several critical stages of the war.

  What had they been promised? Power? Immortality? Whatever the case, the joke had been on them—eventually they had fared no better than the rest of humanity.

  He felt a jerk as he was pulled into the shadows of a sizable room, the metal creaking of his gurney echoing eerily. The only illumination in the stench-filled space was ambient light from the passageway.

  “I’m afraid this is where we part ways,” said Tael. “Take some comfort in knowing that you’ll join us in service to our Alpha.”

  “Alpha?” Vega said, and his teeth chattered as he said it.

  “The leader of our little group.”

  Vega grunted in acknowledgment.

  Tael locked the wheels of the gurney and started to leave.

  Vega called out. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Yes?”

  “What did this…Alpha promise you?”

  Tael hesitated for a moment and then said, “The survival of our species.”

  Vega had to laugh. “Well then, Doc…I guess the joke’s on all of us.”

  “Really.”

  “Yeah. See…there’s this one little thing they probably didn’t tell you.”

  The stone-faced woman stepped closer, suddenly interested in what Vega had to say.

  “We’re not the first ones to populate Earth,” Vega said with gritted teeth. “And we won’t be the last.”

  Tael’s face was hidden in the darkness, but her silence spoke volumes.

  “You would’ve been better off developing a real cure, Doc. Once the feeding is
over, they’ll wipe the slate clean and press the reset button.”

  Tael began to walk away.

  Vega called out with a vengeful laugh, “You’re going to vanish like you never existed…you just don’t know it yet!”

  “We’ll see,” Tael said with a slight waver right before the heavy door closed behind her.

  Vega grinned in the darkness. That had given him a modicum of satisfaction. He could hear Tael’s footsteps resonating through the empty passageway beyond the door. Once they faded, all he could hear was his own heavy breathing.

  Or was that all?

  He listened closer. Something else was in the room.

  It had been waiting.

  It moved. And what he heard next sounded like the gnashing of enormous teeth.

  As his eyes began to adjust to the darkness he noticed something hanging above him; it was immense in size and staring right at him. Its twelve eyes had a pulsing luminance.

  With slow deliberation, it lowered its hideous, misshapen body toward him. It looked like five or six people fused together somehow, as if one human body wasn’t enough to contain it. And inside its gaping maw were rows of needle-sharp teeth, seeming to jostle and compete with each other.

  Vega closed his eyes.

  He thought of the ten billion or so that had been erased from existence and wondered about the meaning of it all. He dove deeper into the shadowy maze of his mind, searching…and when he had finally reached what felt like the bottom of an abyss; he found what he was looking for. It was warm and familiar; a comforting feeling that came from thoughts of his wife and son.

  Perhaps love had been the point after all.

  Maybe next time, he thought, humanity will get it right.

  DEAD PULL

  Every animal fell silent the moment Brennan stepped inside the pet store. A modest brass bell above the door clanged dully.

  He surveyed his animal kingdom; satisfied with the respect his subjects paid him. It bordered on reverence, which, Brennan felt, was fully his due. Four Dachshund puppies stopped their play fighting and slinked back to the corners of their cage. A handful of kittens leapt behind their scratching posts and into the hollows of barrels and other playthings. The tropical birds watched him intently, none daring to caw. Even the rodents and the fish had stopped all activity, as if they sensed a storm gathering on the horizon.