Countdown to Extinction

by Louise Moss

  Scenes from his life flashed before him. Crossing a sandy cove to a nearby island. The, water sweeping swept into the bay, lapping at his trousers, waist, his neck. That time, he had made it back to shore, but this time, there was no defying fate.

  “Gerald! Wake up!”

  A draught of cold air swept in from somewhere. His throat was sore, but he could breathe again

  “Wake up,” the voice commanded.

  His eyelids were heavy. He opened them a slit. A face hung suspended in space above him. It looked like an older Emma. The face had dropped, the eyes, so bright and clear, were dull and lifeless.

  “Emma?”

  “Oh Gerald, I thought you were dead.”

  She helped him to sit up. They were outside in the courtyard.

  He blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision. Was it really Emma standing there, or was it a figment of his imagination, another illusion? “It is you, isn’t it? Really you?”

  He reached out, expecting his hand to go straight through the image, but he touched solid flesh.

  “How did I get here?”

  “I found you here.”

  It was unlikely that he had crawled here himself, but with everybody dead, who could have moved him?

  She bit her lip. “The babies. Why did they do it?”

  An image appeared in Gerald’s mind of a doctor standing in the nursery as the rioters came streaming along the corridor.

  “He had saved them from a worse death.”

  She slumped down beside him.

  “How did you escape?” he said.

  “I hid.” Her voice was a monotone and she pulled at her hair.

  “But how, where?”

  “I hid in the bookcase, like before.” She turned her bloodshot eyes on him. “Why did they do it?”

  “I don’t know.”

  They stayed like that, inert, unmoving until Gerald said, “Where has the garden gone?”

  Where there had once been sunflowers, there was only bare ground. He thought he saw a number of shimmering paths criss-crossing a foot or two above the ground, but it could have been the effect of the light.

  “We’ve come out the other side.”

  “I must see the flowers.” They had to be there, a symbol of hope. Nothing else mattered.

  They skirted the clinic and followed a narrow path which led to the courtyard. A deep sigh escaped from Gerald’s lips. There in the centre were the sunflowers, tall and straight and bright, just as he had seen them from the balcony above. There were signs of the riot all around – smashed bodies, shattered weapons, blood stains, but the flowers had not been touched.

  Gerald hurried towards the centre reached out to touch the golden petals. His hand passed right through.

  “I thought so. They’re not real,” Emma said.

  They followed the edge of the dome, walking slowly now, reluctant to know the truth that lurked in the shadows outside the dome. At the place where the rioters had smashed their way in, they stopped.

  "We must hold to the hope, that there something better out there," Gerald murmured.

  He pushed open the broken door. Ahead was a river of thick sludge. Growing in it was growing something dark, green and slimy.

  “It’s another illusion, isn’t it?” Emma said. “Seaweed doesn’t grow in rivers.”

  Beyond the river, the landscape was grey-brown and, naked of any tree, bush or plant.

  The sun was directly overhead, but it was as dark as dawn or dusk, its brightness unable to penetrate the thick, dense atmosphere of dirt and fog. It was bleaker and more desolate than a World War II battlefield. There, among the barbed wire, the trenches, the mud, the seeds of life lay in the ground. Here nothing at all would grow in ground pitted and eroded by wind for as far as they could see. A thin track snaked into the distance. The disturbed ground showed that this was the way the rioters had come.

  How foolish he had been to fight against their incarceration with thoughts of becoming a great liberator.

  “What happened?” Emma asked. “Is it like that oil spill which killed all them birds and plants and things?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  Covering her eyes against the bitter wind that whipped up the dust, she said, “Let’s go back. I don’t like it out here.”

  Suddenly animated, Gerald said, “We must search the place, see if there are any survivors.”

  “We can’t do nothing if there is.”

  The dome appeared deserted, but Gerald’s skin was crawling, a sign that there was danger ahead.

  They started with the smaller building, two storeys high with eight rooms on each floor.

  “There could be things hidden behind the wall,” he said.

  She looked sideways at him. “How can you hide things behind walls?”

  “I don’t know. It was a stupid idea.”

  The rooms were all the same. Eight foot square, with a bed and the a set of buttons on the wall. No dead bodies. If anyone had been here when the riot started, they would have run outside and been killed out there.

  The stood in the final room, at the four stark, white walls. “It’s the same as the others,” Emma said, turning to go.

  “Wait. There’s someone here,” Gerald said, quietly, almost to himself.

  A faint shimmering had appeared on the far wall. He pushed the wall gently, revealing a hidden cupboard.

  “Ugh, what a smell. Shut the door.”

  “There’s someone here.”

  Crouched in the corner was a figure, about four feet high, the ugliest woman he had ever seen, with sparse brown hair and warts covering her face. A series of indecipherable sounds issued from her mouth.

  He knew what he had to do. He had only to form the words in his mind and she would understand him. Don’t be alarmed, we haven’t come to hurt you.

  “Come away. Stop staring at her,” Emma said.

  “Just a minute. Let me find out what she wants.”

  What have you done with Hagan? The woman’s voice was inside his head, but he knew it was not his own inner dialogue. She was talking to him.

  I saw him on the balcony. He fell. I don’t know where he is now.

  This man is more stupid than the lowliest worker.

  “What’s going on?” Emma said. Gerald snapped back to the room. It was Emma’s turn to stare at the creature.

  “I saw Hagan yesterday. He came upstairs while we were asleep. We talked on the balcony for a while. I don’t know what happened but…there was a pain in my head, a terrible pain.”

  “You were quite ill when you came back.”

  “The last thing I saw was the doctor jumping over the balcony. One of the Bluecoats came along the corridor and saw him.”

  “You were strange that night, restless, and you kept calling out. You slept until the afternoon, and when you woke you knew how to open those doors.”

  “Yes, I knew what to do.”

  9

  Hagan sat in his laboratory rubbing his ankle and considering recent events. He had fallen some distance from the balcony, his sense of balance disturbed by the Total Mind Transference, before landing awkwardly on one of the walkways. He had made his way slowly and painfully through the secret passage to the vault and a few hours later the riot had begun. Zorina had already left for the dome. The rioters had smashed the machinery, causing a system malfunction which had sealed the passageway and prevented her returning.

  It was not surprising that the people hated the Primitives. They had ruined their lives, with their selfish plundering of the planet. People had tried to warn them, but they would not listen.

  The earth had been slowly dying for the last millennium. There were no fish in the sea, no birds, animals or plants, only the seaweed they grew for food. The population of the earth had shrunk to 10,291, spread over the four continents, living in small communities. The nearby town’s population had shrunk to just was one hundred and eighty nine. The pollution that covered the earth had gradually turned the people st
erile. No child had been born for a hundred years, and the human race was predicted to be extinct within fifty years.

  As each species of animal died out, the last few were frozen and put into the vault. As plants became extinct, the seed or the whole plant was kept frozen too. It was all there, underground, waiting to be brought back to life when the earth could once more support its growth.

  The Leaders had formed a plan to bring the bodies out of the vault to breed, the start of a healthy nation. All he could do now was wait for further instructions.

  Without Tostig, he could not reset the system. Zorina had found him among the dead bodies just before the two escaped Primitives had appeared. She had not expected them to discover her hiding place.

  Primitive Gerald had survived the Total Mind Transference but it had given him extra powers. His companion was alive too. Just two Primitives had escaped death out of a total of over two thousand, but it was enough to begin again. It had to be.

  Zorina’s abnormal brain wave pattern and raised temperature indicated she was facing a difficult and dangerous situation. He opened up the connection between them. Zorina, what is happening?

  There are two vile Primitives here.

  They are the last two. They will be invaluable to the plan. Please do not hurt them.

  I am waiting to escape. The man towers over me, blocking the doorway. These Primitives are so stupid.

  We must get them out of there quickly, before the workers return.

  Hagan’s voice was faint and Gerald could only just hear him talking to Zorina. They are important specimens that must not be destroyed. I have been entrusted with ensuring the safety of the Primitives.

  The surge of hope Gerald had felt when he had first seen Emma standing in the corridor wavered liked a clown on a tightrope. To these people, they were “specimens.” Worse horrors might be ahead than the ones they had already experienced.

  He took Emma by the arm. “We have to get out of here. It’s not safe.” When they were out of earshot, he said, “We will go back to our room and you can show me how you hid. It will give us time to think what to do next. How did you get out?”

  “By the stairs at the back. Isn’t that what you did?”

  She led the way to the back of the clinic where a doorway led directly to the staircase. Why hadn’t he seen it?

  On the tenth floor, the double doors had been smashed. The richly coloured corridor with its pictures by famous artists had gone, replaced by nothing but grey; grey floor, grey walls, grey ceiling. Averting their eyes from the battered bodies, they picked their way along the corridor to their own room. The walls and floor were the same uniform grey colour and the burgundy settee, bookcase, table and bed were gone. In their place were old bits of plastic and metal, broken and strewn around the floor. The place resembled a scrap yard.

  Emma seemed unphased. “It wasn’t real, was it? I knew it.”

  “Yes, you told me that.”

  “So…like, someone has turned off the machine that creates the illusions?”

  “Or it could have been damaged in the riots.”

  “This is what it was really like: furniture made out of bits of scrap. Is that why they went to all that trouble to make our rooms look like they did?”

  “I think they wanted us to be surrounded by things that were familiar. They thought we would be…not exactly happier, but calmer.”

  “They didn’t want us to know the truth. But it must have cost a lot to make all those illusions. They could have used the money to make proper furniture.”

  “You saw what it was like outside. They didn’t have the materials to use. They built with whatever they could find lying around.”

  “They were never going to let us go.” She shivered. “We’ve had a lucky escape.”

  “They wanted to bring the babies up in their own way. But we shouldn’t stand here talking. They could come back any time. We need to hide.”

  “But where can we go?”

  A voice was in his head again, this time unmistakably Hagan’s.

  I can lead you a safe place. You must hurry.

  Tell us where to go.

  You will bring Zorina with you. You cannot enter the vault without her.

  “I don’t trust her,” Emma said.

  “You can hear Hagan?”

  “It’s more that I know what you’re thinking. I used to do that a lot. I’m always hearing things.”

  “Zorina knows we’re alive. She could betray us. It’s best if we take her with us so we know where she is.”

  “Okay, that makes sense.”

  Tell her to meet us by the sunflowers.

  They made their way down the stairs and around the building to the courtyard.

  “They’ve gone. There aren’t any flowers.

  “They were just another illusion.”

  Night had descended quickly. The courtyard was bathed in moonlight which filtered through the opaque dome. A scream rent the air, shrill, unearthly, like an animal caught in a trap.

  “Stay here,” Gerald said, hurrying towards the noise.

  “I’m coming with you. I don’t want to be alone.”

  They could just make out, a few yards ahead, the humped figure of a bluecoat. He had Zorina on the ground and was beating and kicking her. The unearthly screams came from her, but a final kick from the worker rendered her unconscious.

  The bluecoat stood in the centre of the courtyard. Gerald crept forward stealthily, keeping to the shadow of the building. There was nowhere to hide, and if the man turned round, he would see him

  The bluecoat seemed to be sniffing the wind. “You,” he spat out venomously. The light caught his face, revealing eyes like two razor sharp blades.

  Gerald sank to his knees, clasping his hands to his forehead. “My head. What have you done?”

  Hagan suddenly appeared, as if he had been winched down from a helicopter. He faced the bluecoat. From his head streamed a ball of burning tar, black and dripping with blood which he hurled it at the worker. It made contact with his arm and burst into a thousand razor sharp splinters. The man laughed, an unearthly laugh as a black, spiked armour engulfed his body.

  The bluecoat pounced on Gerald, hauling him from the shadows and dumped him down on the ground next to Emma. Gerald tried to look away, but the man forced his neck round so he had no choice but to look at the image of Emma, naked, with a second worker on top of her. He pulled a long, curved knife, from inside his jacket. The blade glinted in the light before he plunged it forcefully between Emma’s breasts.

  Gerald tried to move but he was pinned down by thick, clanking chains. He thrashing about wildly, impotently, shook his head, trying to get the images out of his mind.

  The bluecoat grew until he was twice the size of a house. From his hands streamed a mass of flames, from his feet sprung vicious claws, from his body sprouted venomous snakes. Gerald was at the vortex of the swirling nightmare that surrounded him, still pinned to the ground.

  Hagan faced the Worker. “You cannot succeed.”

  The man laughed, a bestial, animal laugh. “Do you know who I am?”

  “Baestel.”

  “I am much more than a name.”

  An angel appeared, dressed in white with a gold crown from which light spread out like a lighthouse beacon. It grew larger, its aura spreading out until it filled the dome.

  Baestel shielded his eyes and howled. As the light pumped out from the heavenly figure, he began to shrink until he was just a small, stooped man wearing a blue jacket.

  Zorina had regained consciousness and was approaching Baestel with two searing torches. As she raised them to plunge them into his eyes, his image shot over to the other side of the dome.

  Hagan gasped. “A worker who can project his image …” It had never been known before.

  “You know who I am,” Baestel said. “You cannot stop me claiming my birthright. I will be back.” His image disappeared and resurfaced in the distance, going towards the town.

&nb
sp; I will not walk through the outside. Zorina’s voice this time.

  Gerald’s head began to spin with the numerous voices competing to be head. He shook his head but the a blackness filled his mind and his legs buckled under him. When he opened his eyes, he was lying on the ground near the entrance to the vault.

  “What happened?”

  “You cried out…you said a lot of things in a strange language. Then there was this buzzing. It felt like … I don’t know, then I found myself here.”

  “What about Zorina?”

  “That cow. She just left us.”

  You did not wait for the Primitives? Hagan’s voice came through loud and clear. He was speaking to Zorina. It would have been easier for them if you were with them. I am not certain that they will be able to enter the vault by themselves.

  I care nothing for them.

  We’ll stay out here,” Gerald said, to Emma Hagan. “They were just using us for breeding stock because their own people were infertile.”

  “I told you that but you didn’t believe me.”

  “I’m sorry, you were right. I won’t doubt you again.”

  “Did Hagan tell you that, then?”

  “No, not exactly. Since I met him on the balcony, I just know things.”

  “And when we’d had enough babies, when they didn’t need us any more….” She drew her hand across her throat.

  “I know.”

  “Maybe they’re already plotting something even worse.”

  Hagan’s voice cut in. It is to be regretted if we did not treat you as you wished. I did not fully understand the needs of the Primitive then. But now, I need you to enter the vault for your own safety.

  Why should we believe anything you say? You called us specimens just now.

  Forgive me, I am not familiar with your language. We wish you to assist in the implementation of the plan.

  The plan to keep people in prison and take away their babies?