A Depraved Blessing

by D. C. Clemens

  At that moment, the soldier who had escorted Sendai could be heard at the center of the temple speaking into his radio. The youth was requesting an extraction, but the only answer he could obtain was the dreaded sound of static.

  A man about my age then loudly asked, “Is anyone coming for us?!”

  The soldier ignored him, continuing to try to get help from the other side.

  Without any kind of audible warning, something clashed into the doors, bending and splintering them at the seams, but they held fast. The contemptible snarls heard from the other side confirmed who are enemy was. Sendai and I backed away from the doors, as did everyone else. Anyone with a gun, which numbered about half the group, including myself, aimed for the entrance.

  A hoarse voice yelled, “In here!” but any attempt at a glimpse behind me to see what the voice was referring to was interrupted by another slam at the main doors. “Fuck! It’s locked! Someone help me get it open!”

  Both entrances were being charged upon for several cruel seconds, time I used to refill my gun’s chambers. After listening to the creaking and grating of the chargers, the doors to the main entrance ruptured first. Sendai was still beside me. I suppose she did not want to leave my side. Strangely, I let her stay there. Before the outside light reached the floor of the temple and the drifting sand swirled with the temple air, we were firing at our intruder. The barrage of bullets could not hinder the creature’s excitement in finally joining us. A single lurch propelled the infected over a pew and to a man wielding a shotgun. The infected trademark of ignorance of pain allowed it to go as far as to cleanly rip off one of the arms of its victim before succumbing to its injuries. Its chorus of death throes drowned out the whimpering of the one-armed man.

  Hardly had the monster fallen on the accruing pools of blood when I heard the door behind me burst open. Finally able to look behind me, I saw a huddled group of people entering a room labeled “Catacombs.” Going through the entryway exposed a descending flight of steps leading to the depths of the Spirit Temple. With Sendai leading my way down the steps, I saw the basement-level room was much wider than the one above, so as to hold the several dozen sarcophaguses with ease, which were either stacked against the walls or amassed in the center of the room. I envied the fact that those inside their tombs didn’t have to personally face the final destiny of our species. The space was lighted by a line of small candles dangling from thin chains, many quenched, and a few low-power light bulbs. The air was thick and the clay ground cold and damp, generating an atmosphere that treacherously constricted my breathing and the chamber’s size. The soft ground absorbed all footfalls and words on our short trek. The silence was only sporadically broken by the amputee’s moans as he was helped down the staircase, though they did not last long, as he soon slipped into an unconsciousness he would never awaken from. I wondered if this place had muted him because it preferred its hallowed silence.

  Sendai and I found ourselves in the farthest corner of the room, clustered on the floor near a crumbling wooden desk. While it was difficult to hear them, I could feel the unremitting vibrations of their howls engulf the desert above and travel through the walls and floor. It resembled the steady beating of drums, playing to the fear in our souls. Every so often, however, a shriek would be loud enough to cleave into our refuge of death, making it seem like the company inside the ornamental tombs were bursting forth from their slumber. Whispers encompassed the room, but only a few shards were made intelligible to my dulled mind. There were attempts of formulating a plan, desperate declarations and lamentations, and the soldier explaining how he had never seen anything like the newfound organization the infected had demonstrated. I was certain the soldier talked to no one other than himself. Even so, he had listeners who were profoundly troubled at his descriptions.

  Visions of my family came and went, flashing memories in no real order. How many times I prayed they would find a way out of this heartless sandstorm and find sanctuary somewhere in this callous world! How many times I prayed they would come across decent people and plenty of supplies, and to never shed one tear about me and maybe forget about me all together! More ardently than all those things, I pleaded to the Spirits of Demise for them to find a death more peaceful than mine. Still, against all of the pain and all of the grief we suffered through, I did have the past to hold on to. At least I could look back and smile at the memories we shared, the times we laughed, the tears we shed, and be happy that I was lucky enough to have them in my life at all, to have had this life at all. That is something the slayers of our once promising future could never take away from me…

  It must have been half a day of waiting before my senses were able to awaken from their overwhelming dreariness. Observing the room revealed the door was obstructed by a couple of shelves, a table, and the desk that was once beside me. Replacing the writing table was some of the debris that had been on top of it, which included a thick tome. The leather cover was crinkled and of a deep blue color, which I only discovered once my fingers removed some of the friendless dust. Opening the book to its brittle pages exposed a list of names, and after reading a few dozen I realized they belonged to the dead of this town. Seeing the occasion as fitting, I began writing the story of my end between its margins and the handful of blank pages…

  I don’t know how long it’s been since I first began this account, which seems more unreal now more than ever, but my thirst is great and my eyes are heavy. I can hear the infected outside, sounding as ravenous as ever, almost as though they are calling for us in a sick game of hide-and-seek. Sendai has not left my side, but words we rarely speak, not until I told her of my future intentions. Her initial answer was to inhale sharply. She stayed silent for a time, but she eventually reached for my hand and held it tightly, telling me she wanted the same. It would be quick, clean, and, most vital of all, painless. There are three bullets left in their chambers for the event. Maybe someone else can find their own mercy in the last…

  There are heavy footfalls above us and their growls are at the back of our necks. They are inside the temple. It won’t be long now. Sendai and I have not let go of each other’s hand. Farewell Evon, may your future be more promising than ours. I hear a clamor by our door. They are coming… They are here…

  Epilogue

  A solitary and distinctively human figure was standing by his office’s eight-story window, indifferently gazing at the emerald colored campus grounds as Sol began her decline behind Earth’s horizon. It had been another long day of molding fledgling minds and the middle-aged man was absorbing the last of what this day offered. He only stirred when a data file began to download in the cybernetic portion of his brain.

  At the same time the file finished downloading, a female colleague entered the small room and said, “Professor, one of the remote surveyors has picked up something interesting.”

  “Really?” The professor kept his eyes focused on the scene out the window. “What’s so interesting about it?”

  “Readings are a little bit hazy, so there’s some type of interference, possibly from the star, but there are obvious signs that the last world surveyed contained sapient life at one point. I’ve passed the data to your account just now. It’s under surveyor 2X79-K.”

  The professor mentally chose said file and began overlooking the information that started to stream into the necessary sections of his brain, still keeping his spot by the view.

  “Let’s see… Yes… Fascinating! Archaic buildings, many collapsed or in decay, and… What’s this? Yes, possible signs of nuclear type weapons being used. A lost civilization right at the edge of Coalition space! Tell the Parliament Archaeological Society about the discovery and, for the love of the Sacred, make sure to use the secure line! We don’t want looters to get there first. If we’re lucky, we can be knee-deep in forgotten knowledge within five years!”

  The woman bowed, which he customarily returned, and then left the room to carry out his instructions. The professor was as excited as he had
been in decades. The heavens were finally aligning for him. It was a rare opportunity for an archaeologist of any era or species to delve into a lost people’s past for the first time. The readings presented no recent meddling by rogue mining companies, unprincipled governments, or scavengers. The planet was unlikely touched by sapient hands since its ruin, which, if the radiation from the nuclear impact sites were any indication, happened around twelve hundred years ago.

  He wondered about so many things. How much had their technology deteriorated? Why the unusual interference? How many should he bring on his team? Who exactly should he bring? He smiled at the thought of his contemporaries and some of his graduate students kissing his ass for the next few years in the hopes he would pick them. He smiled a little further when he imagined bringing only female cohorts. But no! As the director of the department, he must remain professional. Sacred forbid an important detail was missed because he was fantasizing foolishly; not to mention that he was married. His wife, an expert in alien culture and a fellow professor, would certainly join him.

  He sighed when he sat down, realizing years of red tape lied between him and his grand adventure. No matter. Thanks to his vida training (he could warp air fairly well) and the nanotech flowing through his blood, he was still in the prime of his life at 187 years of age. Yes, surely the heavens had aligned perfectly for him.

  From the author

  Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this story and want to delve deeper into this universe, you can buy the sequel, Ember’s Echo, for 0.99 cents at Amazon. I also welcome you to leave a review at your favorite retailer.