Primal Shift: Volume 1 (A Post Apocalyptic Thriller)

by Griffin Hayes

  To his left, through a tangle of cars, was a footpath, and Alvarez hopped over the red barrier to get to it. Once he reached the other side of the bridge, he would pick up a car and high tail it to Anita and Javier. Since all the power and phones had gone offline, he could just imagine she’d be a hot mess. The Latina blood in her veins made for one feisty woman, but Alvarez didn’t mind that. They were a family now, and he’d go through hell and back if it meant protecting them.

  The water below on his left twinkled with shards of light. It was also awash with debris that had floated from shore after the earthquake. That’s when Alvarez stopped, rubbed his eyes and stared long and hard. Something about that debris looked mighty strange. Was that a tiny figure he saw floating in the water? Yes, yes, it was. Then he saw another and another, and soon there wasn’t any debris at all, only bodies, hundreds – thousands – of them. But where had they all come from, and how had they died?

  He turned back to the cars clogging the bridge, the ones with doors flung open and the engines purring softly. Had they been the ones to throw themselves off? No, that was insane. Why would they?

  Almost in answer, Alvarez heard his name being called.

  Alvarez

  He took a step back until his calf struck the barrier.

  “Hello?” he called out. “Who’s there?”

  Could it be Dana, pursuing him for escaping his cell? No, not a chance. That voice was far too deep and masculine.

  A few more feet, and he came to a long black motor home; a slick-looking job with tinted windows and gold piping down the side.

  That voice again, this time from inside.

  “Mr. Alvarez, I was wondering when you’d show up.”

  “S’cuse me, who are you?”

  “Come closer and find out.”

  Al wasn’t sure he wanted to.

  “What are you doing in there? Don’t you know what’s going on, Mister? There’s been an earthquake, and the sky’s about to fall on our heads.”

  Laughter echoed from inside as a man appeared. His hair was the color of bleached bone, and not a single strand looked out of place. Alavarez wouldn’t call him overweight, but he wasn’t a thin man. The black undertaker’s suit he was wearing made his hair look even whiter. But what really stood out was the fleshy scar that ran across his face, as though his cheek had been burned in an awful accident. The man’s eyes were emerald-green, and they seemed to suck in just about every detail on a single pass. He had an indefinable quality to him that left Alvarez feeling uneasy, maybe even a touch scared.

  “Do I know you, old man?”

  “You’ve always known me, Mr. Alvarez.” The man with skin the color of old piano keys stretched out his hand. “Harry Thomson, pleasure to meet you.”

  Alvarez’ hand went out and then paused. Harry leaned in and grasped him palm to palm. Something about touching Harry’s skin made Al’s stomach turn.

  He jerked his hand free and wiped it against the pant leg of his Coast Guard uniform, still crinkled where he’d tied it into knots to retrieve the keys to his cell. He threw a thumb over his shoulder. “You see all the bodies down there?”

  Harry raised himself on tippy toes to peek over Al’s shoulder. “It’s a mighty mess down there, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, it is. Any idea how they got there?”

  “Sure I do. They jumped.”

  Alvarez’ jaw fell loose. “From the bridge? All of them?”

  “Every single last one.”

  “You saw them all jump?”

  “Yes, it was a terrible thing to witness. No rhyme or reason to it either.”

  “Well, since you seem to know so much, why don’t you tell me what the hell’s going on? I’m on my way to find my wife and kid, so a little intel would be nice.”

  “Let me ask you a question: What differentiates man from animal?”

  “I don’t understand, do you know what happened or not?” Alvarez was starting to get short-tempered with this strange man and his riddles. The smile on Harry’s face began to fade and with it, Al felt an incremental weight begin to push down on his shoulders. Soon, his legs were trembling, reminding him of when he used to lug bags of cement for his uncle, Jose, who had been starting a home renovation business. Any more of this, and his spine was going to crack. Or was he imagining the whole thing? Maybe this Harry Thomson was a magician and had somehow managed to hypnotize him.

  Alvarez blinked, and when his eyes focused again, Harry was smiling before him.

  “Let me ask you again,” he said. “What keeps man from becoming a wild beast?”

  “I don’t know. Religion?”

  “Wrong. Memory.”

  “Huh?”

  Harry rubbed his hands together. “The line between order and chaos is drawn by information stored in the brain. If humans forgot everything they’d learned from birth, every little life lesson they’d been taught – this is how you wipe your bum, Johnny; here’s how to share your toys; here’s how to make your lunch; here’s how to play nice with the other children. You take all that away, and what do you have? That’s what I’m trying to ask you.”

  “Is that what’s happened? No one remembers who they are anymore?”

  “Sure looks that way, doesn’t it?” Harry said, his emerald eyes shining like distant stars. The old man could see the pain and fear on Alvarez’ face, and he seemed to be enjoying it.

  “So if the whole world has amnesia, then how come you and I are OK?”

  “Are we OK, Mr. Alvarez? We’re living in a world run by overgrown children who don’t remember the difference between right and wrong. To them, survival is right, and anything that threatens that is wrong.”

  “But my wife and son.”

  Harry’s eyes dropped. “I’m sorry.”

  “I don’t believe you,” but even as Alvarez spoke the words, he knew it was more that he didn’t want to believe him. The men he’d helped retrieve from Fort Baker – wasn’t that exactly how they had behaved, like scared children?

  Harry was watching him now. “Not all of these new members of the animal kingdom are violent, but what do you think will happen when the hunger sets in, Mr. Alvarez? When the hunger sets in and they need shelter and protection? The weak will die quickly, that much is a given. But the strong and the cruel and the ruthless will thrive in this new world. It’s a grand experiment in natural selection, and we’re all the willing guinea pigs.”

  That sick feeling was back in Alvarez’ guts, worming around as though he’d swallowed something that was trying to get back out.

  “I gotta go find my wife.”

  “It’s a long walk from here. I’ve got food and fresh water in the camper. I’d be happy to donate them.”

  “Thank you,” Alvarez said. A tiny voice inside was telling him not to take the gift, but he was unable to bring himself to deny the deep, painful hunger building up within him. “I don’t have any money to pay you.”

  Harry smiled. “It’s a vast, lonely world out there now. I don’t need money, only company.”

  “Fine, but just until I reach my wife and kids. Then we go our separate ways.”

  “Agreed,” Harry said, and as they shook again, the feel of the old man’s touch nearly made Alvarez’ stomach roll.

  Finn

  Las Vegas, NV

  Getting bludgeoned to death in the Buy Low grocery store wasn’t how Finn pictured himself going out, but if he didn’t move quickly that was exactly what was going to happen. On his left, a group of men with makeshift weapons stood by the entrance. Before him and to his right was the fruit section and beyond that, the swinging door which led to the butcher’s shop; no doubt the place where the guy in the leather apron and chain mail gloves had done most of his shopping. If Finn was lucky, he might just make it there and find himself a weapon.

  The two guys behind him were still scrambling up the shelf, and Finn turned and gave the first one a taste of his steel-toed boot. Down he went, hitting the floor, where he stopped moving.
>
  Clean up in aisle two, you bastards!

  He sent out another kick for the guy who was next to the first, but this time he missed his mark and nearly went tumbling to the ground himself.

  Stop screwing around, Finn.

  That little voice inside was right. Finn dropped onto a counter filled with old and rotting oranges, his boots making a squishing sound as he landed. He hit the ground running, trying to reach the butcher’s room at the back, hoping to hell there was something there that he might use to defend himself. He had just about reached the swinging door when he caught sight of the men, waiting at the end of the aisle. They’d been out of sight and for some reason hadn’t come around and trapped him completely. But why?

  Finn wasn’t going to wait to find out, and he burst into the butcher’s shop. He was struck right away by a ghastly smell he’d never encountered before. It activated his gag reflex, and Finn doubled over, retching.

  Get up, Finn, they’re gonna be through that door any second now.

  A small window let in a weak trickle of light, but it was more than enough to see what was inside. Bodies, stacked on top of butcher’s blocks. The heads and limbs had been hacked off and the abdomens were slit open. Entrails hung from ceiling hooks. They didn’t have a clue what they were doing. Finn realized that right away. They were chopping and eating whatever they could find. Beside the intestines was a stack of bones, with knife and teeth marks.

  Through the plate glass window that looked out onto the rest of the Buy Low, Finn saw the men approaching, the guy with the gloves, apron, and carving knife in the lead.

  Protruding from one of the corpses was a meat cleaver. Big and square, it was designed to hack rather than thrust. It was also slower than the knife Gloves and Apron had, but if it landed, he’d be in a world of hurt.

  As he grabbed the cleaver, he saw that same group suddenly turn and rush toward the front door. Gun shots rang out, followed by a series of loud booms.

  Someone was using a shotgun.

  Finn burst through the swinging door to discover a battle raging outside the store. Men with guns were in a close-quarters fight with the freaks from the Buy Low.

  The handgun one of the men was using clicked empty about a second before he took a metal rod to the head. He screamed in pain, and one of the gunmen shouted.

  “Fall back, fall back, goddammit!”

  They could talk, which told Finn they weren’t another group of barbaric freak shows. He rushed forward with the cleaver and buried it into the skull of the first savage he saw. They were all facing the group of men who’d tried to shoot their way in, and Finn managed to drop four of them before they noticed what was going on. Gloves and Apron spun on his heels, his expression surprised at first but then clouding with rage.

  The point of his knife went straight for Finn’s belly but Finn parried it with a swift, almost thoughtless move before sinking the cleaver into the top of Gloves and Apron’s skull. The man’s eyes grew wide for nearly a full second before they became glassy and he collapsed. Upon seeing their leader fall, the others fled into the parking lot, where most of them were shot dead.

  Finn stepped outside. The sun was hot on his face, and he lifted his chin to soak in the rejuvenating warmth. For a few seconds back there, he thought he might never see the sun again.

  The hammer of a pistol cocked beside him.

  Finn wiped someone else’s blood off his face with the sleeve of his shirt.

  “Drop the knife, Asshole.”

  The pistol in his face was a Taurus .22 caliber, the barrel less than six inches from his eye.

  “Kid, you’ve got three seconds to get that spud gun outta my face.”

  Tanned skin and a shock of blonde hair; he really was a kid. Couldn’t have been older than 14 or 15.

  An older man wearing a baseball cap, perhaps in his 50s, slim except for a pronounced beer gut and sporting a 5 o’clock shadow and peppered hair, put a hand on the kid’s pistol and lowered it.

  “You know the rule, Son, if they’re able to talk, we don’t shoot em, not right away.”

  Two others were on their knees, tending to the wounded. The one who had taken the metal rod to the head had been dead before he hit the floor. Another who’d been stabbed in the upper chest by Gloves and Apron was coughing up blood.

  “His lung’s punctured,” Finn said, waving the chopper in his hand. “Sorry to be the bearer, but he ain’t gonna make it.”

  The man with the gut looked from Finn back to the wounded man. “Earl, do what you can to make him comfortable, will you?”

  “Sure thing, Lou.”

  Finn held out his hand and introduced himself. Beer gut did the same.

  “Name’s Lou, this here’s my son, Ethan. The man dying’s my brother-in-law, Philip, and those two are Dan and Ellis. We just met up with them a few hours ago.”

  Finn nodded, “I just wanted to say thanks. Know you weren’t out to save anyone, but I nearly had that whole mob on me until you all showed up. Probably wouldn’t have been a happy ending.”

  “Glad we could help,” Lou said. “Coulda fooled me though, with the way you handled that cleaver. Looked like a regular musketeer.” Lou chuckled at his own joke, and his belly went up and down as he did. “Where’d you learn that, cooking school?”

  Lou was a regular comedian. “Frankly, I’m not sure. That’s what I’m trying to find out, I suppose.”

  “He’s a partial, Dad,” Ethan said, squinting up into the sun at his father.

  “A partial?” Finn asked.

  Lou pulled at the brim of his ball cap to scratch his forehead. “We seen a couple different types since Mother Nature started pulling a ruckus. Folks been turned into blank slates. They got no idea how to talk or how to use a toilet. We seen one or two other folks who still have the basics but are real fuzzy on who they are and how they got here. And then there’s us who’re cursed to remember everything.”

  “Cursed,” Finn said. “I’d give anything to remember.”

  “Yeah, just be careful what you wish for.”

  “Dad, we gotta get that food before sundown.”

  “Ethan’s right.” He pointed a finger at the man spitting up blood. “Philip’s the only family Ethan and I have left. The others lost their minds and ran off when all hell broke loose. You know, we could really use another hand. There’s probably 1,000 of those brainless whackos running around for every one of us.”

  Finn clapped a hand on Lou’s shoulder. “Appreciate the offer, Lou, but I’m on my way to a government compound just north of Salt Lake City.”

  Lou’s face soured. “Oh, not you, too.”

  The puzzled expression on Finn’s face must have showed.

  “If you head on up there expecting the easy life, I can tell you right now you’re gonna be disappointed.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Well, first off, it ain’t no government compound. If you haven’t noticed, there ain’t no government left.”

  Finn wasn’t anywhere near being close to giving up the only lead he had. “There’s someone up there I need to speak with.”

  Lou shook his head. “You’re a grown man, you do as you wish.”

  “Maybe after I’m done I’ll pay you all a visit.”

  “We’re just three blocks south of here, Maple Street. Can’t miss the house, it’s the only one with a hunting stand on the roof.”

  Ethan nudged his father. “It’s not south anymore, remember?”

  “Oh, ya,” Lou turned to Finn. “Hell, you know the world’s really upside down when north reads south and south reads north. We thought we had a faulty compass at first, but everyone we found’s been doing the same thing. Maybe it’s got something to do with those lights in the sky.”

  Finn looked up, thinking about that last thing Lou said, wondering if he might just be right.

  Dana Hatfield

  Bernal Heights, CA

  Right now, part of Dana was wishing she’d never left Fort Baker. Gagged, blindf
olded, and bound to a metal support beam, all she knew was that she was in some kind of basement, somewhere in Bernal Heights. She couldn’t see anyone around her, but she knew they were there. Shuffling, moaning, and by the sounds of it, they, too, were tied up no different than she was.

  The first thought that crossed her mind was whether or not the others around her were talkers. The second, however, was far more frightening.

  Was this where they held the people about to be executed?

  That was what those two assholes on the flatbed had told her. Jeffereys was going house to house, and if any one of those mindless fucks gave him attitude, he would waste them.

  Cold sonsabitches.

  She needed to get out of here and soon.

  It was clear enough just from the feel of it that the knot holding the blindfold against her eyes hadn’t been tied by a sailor. It was a sloppy, double job, that was bound to come loose sooner or later. The knot itself was at the back of her head. Dana began rubbing it against the support beam she was lashed to. Slowly, she worked the knot up and over her head. A simple flick of her neck sent it skittering into the darkness.

  Moonlight crept in from a narrow window, casting enough light to let her know she was in a basement, and it was packed with people who were also tied up. Someone next to her was crying, and even in the dim light it was quickly apparent that the others here were female. She’d wanted to say women, but that wasn’t quite it. A tiny shape curled up in the corner, rocking back and forth, couldn’t have been older than 10 or 11.

  What were these sick bastards up to?

  These women had just lived through a major earthquake as well as an event that had done something to their minds, and now, to top it all off, they were being corralled into a dank basement rather than being fed and cared for.