Monsters of the Apocalypse

by Rawlins, Jordan

  ***

  Caleb and the Indian walked through the woods together. The Indian's balance seemed unsteady as they walked and they had to stop every few minutes to rest. The Indian sweated constantly, his fever peaking impossibly high. Caleb stayed with the Indian through the long slow walk until they stopped at the tree line. Here the two men sat down and looked out on the suburban sprawl that stretched endlessly to the horizon.

  "Do you have any sort of survival skills, Caleb?"

  "Does making grilled cheese count?"

  The Indian laughed and held out a hand that was more claw than hand at this point. Caleb shook it.

  "I like you, Caleb. Don't do anything stupid and end up my dinner."

  "I don't want to be eaten by a mutant cannibal, but if I'm gonna be, I hope you're the mutant cannibal who eats me."

  The Indian left, walking east. Caleb watched him until he had disappeared and then headed west. He stopped after an hour, sat down and opened the bag that he'd packed for himself. He pulled out the pistol the Indian had given him. The Indian had called it an "H and K", which didn't mean anything to Caleb, but Caleb had wanted to seem cool so he'd acted like he knew all about it. He had regrets about that now. He closed an eye and took a bead on a mailbox just down the road. He squeezed the trigger, but nothing happened. He opened his eye and studied the gun. He pushed a button on the side of the gun and the magazine fell out and landed in his lap.

  "Shit."

  Caleb was eating his lunch while attempting to reinsert the magazine when a mutant came into view. The mutant's teeth were brown with dried blood and his clothes were tattered and dirty. The mutant's eyes were bloodshot and red. Caleb looked back down at the magazine and tried again to shove it into the pistol. He could hear the breath of the mutant as it got closer.

  With a snap the magazine clicked into place and Caleb pointed the gun at the mutant who growled and charged forward. Caleb squeezed the trigger and again nothing happened.

  "Really?!" he screamed at the gun as the mutant, now in full sprint, reached his claws out to the sides with an inhuman growl. Caleb pulled at the trigger again and there was a huge explosion of dirt and blood that knocked Caleb backwards. Caleb's ears rang from the explosion, but he could make out the sound of gasping and moans as he wiped the warm blood from his face.

  As the dust settled and he managed to get his legs beneath him, Caleb found himself miraculously in one piece. He was covered in the blood of the mutant who now lay in front of him, torn apart by the explosion, but still alive.

  "Why…" the mutant hissed. "Why would you eat lunch next to a mine?"

  "I didn't know there was a mine here," Caleb said with shock.

  "You humans put them all over. God it hurts," the mutant reached down to the bloody malformed mass that was left where his legs had been and whined. "Mercy please… please."

  Caleb took a moment to realize what this meant, but then nodded and searched for his gun. He found it a few feet away under a light dusting of dirt and blood. He brought it over to the mutant and pointed it at his head. He closed his eyes and squeezed the trigger. Nothing happened.

  "The safety… no… the other side… the button on the other side…"

  "Oh! This one! I kept pushing the other one which releases the magazine," Caleb laughed.

  "You're an idiot… please… it hurts so much… my eye, shoot me in the eye…"

  Caleb turned off the safety and shot the mutant in the eye. The mutant went limp.

  "Sorry! I mean… well… sorry about the mine. Though, you were trying to kill… aw hell, you're dead anyway."

  Caleb sat down and waited for his hands and legs to stop shaking and for his stomach to settle. While he sat there, Caleb came to the realization that he was going to die very soon.

  Chapter 60

  ***

  "You're late," Flores grunted from the corner as Miho entered.

  "I had to kill the President's uncle and his security guards," she shrugged.

  Flores didn't react to the statement, which somehow scared the soldier who was sitting on the edge of the bed even more. The soldier had long ago given up on the possibility of escaping his Indian captor, after his first attempt had ended so painfully. It was only now though, that the soldier considered that he might not live through the night. He felt the sweat begin to bead up on his neck.

  "Hello, soldier, my name is Miho Walker. We talked before, over the communication line in your mask during your mainland mission, remember? I know a great deal about you, so you don't need to introduce yourself. I know your name and your service record. I know what happened to you while you were on the mainland. I even know what those cannibals did to you while you were unconscious. I know about the burning sensation in your ass that started a few days after your return. I know about the temperature you've been running. And, I know that in a matter of days you will be the first mutant to make his home here on The Island."

  The soldier groaned at the word "mutant".

  "You had no idea, soldier? No suspicions?"

  "I don't know. Maybe I did. How can you believe such a thing? How can you wrap your head around the loss of your own humanity?"

  "Good point. I'd like to take a sample of your blood. You see, you've been injected with a new hybrid of The Shot. This is one that Jacob Rothschild forced Dr. Thomas to make for him. It works a little faster, a little different. How different, we don't know. Thanks to you, we will very soon."

  She bent over and took a blood sample from his arm with quick, gentle efficiency and then handed the sample to Flores. Miho sat down on a chair across from the soldier.

  "Thank you. I'm sure this has all been rather unpleasant. I'm sorry for that. For all of this."

  "Are you going to kill me?"

  "Kill you? No. Of course not. In fact, I intend to help you if I can. What if I was to tell you we had a cure for your disease?"

  "That's impossible. If we had a cure we would have given it to the mainlanders, right?"

  "We gave the mainlanders The Shot so that they'd die. Why on earth would we give them a cure? Our hope is that after this nasty little mutant phase they seem to be in, they'll drop dead. If not, well, then they can just eat each other for all we care. Sharp teeth and big claws aren't much of a threat to our military. But, you're different. You we'd like to see live, live a long and healthy life. One where perhaps you had some children."

  "I'm sterile, ma'am. I'm here because I'm a soldier, not because I'm potent."

  "Not ma'am, it's Ms. Walker. Perhaps you weren't potent when you came here, but you also didn't to want to eat humans. It's a changing world. We are hoping to have you around to see whatever new wonders evolution has in store for us. Sound good?"

  "Yes. Of course, thank you."

  "Excellent. I'm afraid that, my help doesn't come without a string attached. You see the cure we have, doesn't seem to work on a mutant unless he's feasted. The first feasting on human flesh seems to… um… change the mutant's physiology slightly. If he hasn't fed, I'm afraid, the cure just kills him. So you see, we need you to eat some people."

  "Some? Just one, right? Or a dead person even? Didn't you just say you killed someone? Why don't I eat them, it'll hide your crime and get me to where I can…"

  "No. For one thing, you've begun your transition, but I see no fangs or claws. If you are to feed now, I suspect, it would be premature. In fact, I question whether or not you could actually stomach the flesh despite your hunger. Don't worry though, in a few days I expect you to be complete and when that time comes you'll leave this room, which we have put aside for you, and you will go to the places on this list and eat these people."

  She set the list down on the desk behind her, straightened it in relation to the desk's edge and then smiled at him.

  "Okay?"

  "You want me to kill people for you, Ms. Walker?"

  "Yes."

  "And then how will I find you, to get the cure?"

  "Once these men are digested - oh, keep the
heads by the way - we'll return here. We'll come with the cure. Not one second before they're dead. Keep the heads."

  "How can I trust you?"

  "Well, my dear soldier, you don't have to. You just have to trust that once you change you will be one mutant alone on an island filled with an army of humans."

  Chapter 61

  ***

  Jacob and Arian watched the helicopter disappear into the night sky, the soldier on board. Their eyes could see it longer than a human’s could. Their sensitivity to light made the daytime harder, painfully bright, but at night it was a great advantage and one that predators needed.

  "Well, now it's happened. That helicopter carries an infected soldier to The Island. Once he changes there will be nowhere that our kind can't be found," Arian said with disgust.

  "Yes, if they find him," Jacob laughed.

  The two mutants walked back into the woods.

  “So what now, Jacob?”

  “Now we wait.”

  “For what?”

  “For my army to come to me.”

  “Why would that happen?”

  “You heard the soldier. Rumors spread. Once mutants hear they have a king they’ll want to see him. They’ll wonder what makes this mutant a king. They'll want to see me.”

  “What is it that makes you think you're the one who gets to be king?”

  “The same thing that makes all kings, Arian. I'll say I am and will kill anyone that says differently.”

  Arian nodded and watched Jacob move ahead. He turned back and glanced at the helicopter as it turned into a tiny dot of light and then disappeared. He turned back and saw that Jacob had stopped and was leaning against a tree, waiting for him.

  "Doubt is nothing but fear, Arian. Fear not. What's wrong?"

  "When we were a Shadow Army we were using conventional weapons to fight bad people. That's not the case anymore."

  "It certainly isn't. What is it that's troubling you?"

  "The fact that none of this: the wasteland that we live in, the fact that we're cannibals… none of it fazes you and it should! Don't you see that this isn't a big joke, Jacob? We're mutants! Man-eating mutants walking through a radioactive nuclear wasteland! That's ridiculous! We're infecting humans to make them eat humans! There's a big island where what's left of humanity is sitting around waiting for us to die and Nestor Bravo has become a TV star and no one seems to be the slightest bit confused or have any trouble adapting to this! Well I do. This isn't something you take in stride and it's certainly not funny, Jacob! Quit laughing, this is serious!"

  Jacob watched Arian who, now that his speech was over, stood panting and near tears. Jacob walked over and squeezed the mutant's shoulder. He waited while Arian regained his composure.

  "Do you feel better, my friend? It's good to let it out. Some of us laugh, some of us scream, some of us die. No one way is right. None is wrong. But laughing is more fun, you should try it. Jacob Rothschild, Mutant King of the Wasteland of Mankind! That's funny, Arian. Think about it. Now, come on, my friend, this next part is going to be a riot." Jacob turned and walked away as his laughter rang through the night.

  Chapter 62

  ***

  Bragg came over and sat beside Nestor on the bed.

  “Nestor, I’m going to get very close to your left ear and then your right. I’m going to whisper in your ears. It’s important that you let me do this.”

  “Okay.”

  Bragg moved close and whispered in Nestor’s left ear.

  “Testing. Testing. Left ear.”

  Bragg switched to the other ear.

  “Testing. Testing. Right ear. Okay. It’ll be a minute.”

  Bragg went back to the corner and sat in the chair.

  “What is...”

  Bragg shook his head. Nestor shrugged. There was a knock at the door.

  “Come in,” Bragg said.

  “Left ear is clean,” the young blonde man said.

  “Thank you. You may go. Okay then, Nestor, now we can talk.”

  “What’s going on, Bragg? How are they finding me? How did you find me?”

  “The camera inside you, it’s transmitting. It has been since the President’s speech.”

  “Okay, but that’s encrypted. The feeds have always been protected.”

  “It was encrypted. It was hacked. A hacker named Nevers hacked it. Now you are being broadcast for anyone who knows a way to pick up the feed on a computer or tablet or phone... they can listen to it, watch it. Those who don’t, find those who do. That’s how they keep finding you. That’s how I found you. They say that the King of the Mutants wants the camera in your head. He wants it, so that he can talk to his people. So, he can rule completely.”

  “Why’d you save me?”

  “You’re a man. A soldier. You don’t deserve to die on some table as a sacrifice offered to the mutants.”

  “You killed the men who captured me by yourself?”

  “I did. Him and his little gang of inbred morons. He mentioned the location, I wasn't too far away. It's a good thing because mutants who'd been watching had just arrived when I did. I killed them too.”

  “You were a soldier?”

  “I still am.”

  “You didn’t get The Shot?”

  “Nope. I was instructed not to. Now I've been instructed to start a resistance.”

  "You keep saying that, but… what does it mean? What resistance?”

  “It’s small, just started, but it’s real. This is one of our safe houses."

  "You fight the mutants?"

  "No. Not if I don't have to. They don’t scare me, not yet, but they will. They’re organizing. An army. A king. Or so they say. We’re their food, in any case.”

  “I have to get to The Island. I have to kill the President.”

  “Look at what’s become of the world, Nestor, does that matter anymore?”

  “It’s the principle of the thing. You have cars in your resistance?”

  “You can’t have a car, Nestor. You would make it a few hundred miles then you’d run out of gas. A waste of a precious vehicle. I can’t tell you where the stations are for refueling, because you’ll give away the location and there are many groups looking for us. They’ll find us. Like your friend with the beard. He said the name of the town you were in and the next day he was dead. The resistance is not so strong that the same couldn’t happen to it.”

  “My ears?”

  “A suspicion I had. The sound is a little off in your broadcast. When you lost your ear during the assassination attempt, it destroyed the mic. The other ear’s is fine. When I whisper in the bad one, it’s not broadcast, but if you repeat what I say, or answer in a way that is telling, if I talk normal, the other mic can pick it up because, well, your head's not that big, is it? They’ll hear me. You understand?”

  “Yes.”

  Bragg leaned into Nestor’s left ear.

  “L.A. is where our resistance makes its home. There’s little to no radiation there. They didn’t want it blowing toward The Island. When they gave out The Shot, they started on the East Coast; they hadn’t finished giving out The Shot in California when you sped everything up with your attack. Populations have always been less dense and more defiant towards the government on the west which makes for more survivors, more potential fighters. If you make it there, by the time you make it there, we can offer you shelter, maybe even help. We have no intention of attacking The Island, we even hope that they may intervene so that we aren’t butchered on their doorstep, but maybe we can still help you. Our route goes east to west, from the middle up to the north of the country. If you go east to west from just below the middle to the south, you won’t put us at risk. You go much above the middle, you’ll kill us or we’ll kill you. Remember: what you say, they hear. What you see, they see.”

  Bragg leaned back and looked at Nestor.

  “If you put a bag over my head and drive me, I could help you. In a few days we’ll be out of reach of the mutant army if there
even is one.”

  “I will do that if you want, Nestor. Regardless of the repercussions, I will help you in any way that I can.”

  “What do you mean? What repercussions?”

  “I don’t fear the mutants yet, like I said. They hunt us because we’re food, but they can eat the dead if we’re not there. They won’t starve. They’ll only go so far for us. We pose no real risk to mutants. We go to towns, we educate the inoculated about what they’ll become, and then we send them east, to their own kind and move the un-inoculated to our safe houses. We don’t kill them unless they try to feed on us. But the Islanders, they hunt us as well. They feel we’re supposed to be dead. They made plans. They use their drones to search for us, but there’s a whole lot of country. So you see, if you saw a sign on accident, said the name of the town where a gas station was by mistake or looked at a tree that some Islander recognizes from his home town, drones will arrive from The Island and bombs will rain down from the sky in an hour.”

  “I’m a death warrant to whoever I’m with.”

  “I will drive you, regardless of that, Nestor. No man should have to risk his life for the good of others.”

  Nestor stared unblinking at Bragg, who simply smiled and said, “What do you want?”

  BOOK THREE

  ***

  "Life is pretty simple. If you look for something to be grateful for, you'll find it. If you look for something that's screwing you, you'll find it. Even in a world of cannibals with no possibility of survival for mankind, there was laughter and beauty. Even in the mutant-free world before the nuclear holocaust, with automatic coffee makers and machine-rolled cigarettes, people were crying in despair and taking drugs to escape. Throughout history the end has always been near, existence has always been in the balance, and always heroes have saved us. Mankind has survived on the actions of kind men and cruel men, men with great names and the nameless… you just never know.

  "In fact, the only similarity in all of the great stories of mankind's survival is that the main characters of the story have great hair."