Clio and Cy: The Apocalypse

by Christopher Lee

  Clio walked down what was left of a once-busy thoroughfare, a two-laner that was always packed at 5:30PM in its heyday. It resembled a highway of death now, like the path to hell in a dark and frightful painting.

  Better check it, she thought, pulling up her weapon to inspect the charge meter. Oh no! No longer green, yellow indicator lights flashed above the trigger. They blinked pathetic and pale, stopping at the quarter charge mark. Holding the trigger down and not letting go of it had unintentionally drained the weapon. That’s why Dad said squeeze and release… squeeze release, she thought. Clio cursed her error, remembering that her father didn’t say things just to hear the sound of his own voice. Every word he spoke had purpose.

  Cars were rusted out and littered the highway in some spots; in other places, there wasn’t a damn thing in sight. She smelled a familiar odor that reminded her of her father. Fleeting, it was a good vibe that wouldn’t last.

  Molecules drifted through the air in carbon dioxide, like she’d wandered onto a camp site. Clio enjoyed the smell of burnt forest but not the change in scenery. Both sides of the road were lined with rows of dead vertical spears. Charred thin and wrought iron black, the green woods faded into desolate darkness.

  The dropping sun, along with her dropping photon charge, sank down in her gut, resting there, heavy and graveled. Clio pretended she was a sorcerer, willing the sun to stay in the sky, as if to command it. But the more she willed to keep it high overhead, the faster it seemed to disobey. The good sun was now sinking like a bratty despot, showing off its ill manners.

  Mimicking the burnt forest, shadows were cast over the road. Little bastard, the punk sun had fallen behind the trees. Her nose twitched and her ears perked…

  It howled out from behind the tree line. Another joined in, shrieking together in vicious cries. The sounds arrested her movement. Possessed by terror, she remained frozen, listening. Communicating to each other in primitive chants, she realized the beastly noises weren’t born of this world. The howls made her nauseous. Clio knew it was the demon creatures, the same things that hunted her in the tunnel. They continued shrieking through the forest and Clio began to lose control of her bodily functions.

  Clio felt pressure like a fire hose coming out of her mouth in a long spray, she projectile vomited and splattered chunks on the faded asphalt. The girl wept like all youngsters do after puking – this time her fear leant something extra to the spewing effort. She shakily moved forward, forcing her steps.

  The acidic smell of vomit crawled up her back, tapping her on the shoulder and spoke: I bet I’m a delicious, juicy aroma to them… I bet they can smell me for miles….

  Her legs trembled and her head was pounding, insisting that one foot go in front of the other, stepping, then again, step… another. She couldn’t deny it - it was officially getting dark. The sky was meeting somewhere in the middle of a blue and black border. The charred forest began to fade from its smoky death and turned green again. The North Star peeked through the hazy heavens and hung over the now lush, living trees.

  The “Hooooooowwwwwrrrrrr!” roar of a creature was so close she was sure it was watching her from the woods. Oh my god, what am I going to do? Clio ambulated under frazzled nerves, feeling a tiny, momentary, loss of bladder.

  She hadn’t been inside a car since she was very little — no time like the present. After reaching the side of a Mercedes, the twelve-year-old fingered the door handle. She climbed in, squeezing by the driver’s seat, and crawled into the back. Clio looked around, frantic while trying to stay low and out of sight. — Hunting, pecking, and scratching had worked once before. And so it did again, she found a back seat armrest and folded it down. A hole… It was big enough, just barely, for her to fit through and enter the trunk.

  She could still hear them howling in cries that were faint between the metal and mildewed leather. Clio had the worst nightmares she’d ever experienced. On and off she slept; her dreams were invaded by non-stop shrieks of flesh-eating evil. In the deepest way, the sounds entered her soul. It was real. Those damn things were out there, everywhere, rooting and scratching and killing anything big enough to eat. Clio woke throughout the night; the first time from the yelping of something big, something was being ripped apart. A demon creature caught some kind of animal, whatever it was; it was being torn into a meal.

  They called out to each other in bloodthirsty cries. Hearing several of them chanting together and communicating in a language higher than dumb beasts were capable of, Clio stopped snoring and woke. Those sounds would brand a mark on her amygdala, imprinted like a scar to her dying day. The hours went by...

  Clio opened her eyes, knowing she couldn’t sleep another minute. From inside the obsidian confines of the trunk, she wondered if it was morning. Clio took a breath and paused. She pushed the armrest down enough to let the light peek inside. Sunshine prowled in like a spirit of gliding hope, maybe today’s a new day, she prayed.

  After she palmed the armrest all the way down, Clio peered through the front windshield. Other than her thoughts, nothing stirred. She crawled out holding her breath, only wanting to see the forest running over the land – not a damn thing else.

  She’d made it out and fixed her narrow butt on the back seat. Clio stayed low and peered out, surveying the landscape. The world awoke quiet and spread out with a gentle touch as she witnessed the morning, seeing only the memories of things that haunted the night’s past, and forever her soul. At least for now, the world around her was peaceful and still.

  CHAPTER 11 – TESTING 1 2 3

  “It’s a little over six miles to the lab, Cy.”

  “I’ll stay close to George Washington Memorial Parkway, Dr. Marcus,” Cy said, pointing at the hologram map that floated over a computer screen.

  “Stay alert around the airport,” Dr. Pressfield warned. “There are patrols of Ker there… probably still stationed around it.”

  “I’ll be careful the entire way, Dr. Marcus… especially in this area,” Cy pointed to the area where the Capitol used to be.

  “Good idea… Here’s my access card, but I doubt it will be of use,” Dr. Pressfield said, handing it to Cy.

  “I’ll find a way inside the lab, if it’s possible, Dr. Marcus.”

  Dr. Pressfield looked at Cy and patted his arm. “I know you will, my friend.”

  “I’ll be able to keep tabs on you through your tracker, but we won’t be able to communicate. It’s too dangerous to talk... even through encrypted text. Don’t want to leave a trail of breadcrumbs for anyone – or anything – to follow you back here.”

  “Don’t worry, Dr. Marcus; I’ll be ok.”

  “Cy… Bring yourself back home as fast as you can. Ok?”

  “I will, Dr. Marcus.”

  Dr. Pressfield followed Cy out the door and onto the front steps of the colonial home.

  “I guess this is it,” Dr. Pressfield said, bashfully looking out and wanting to take this scavenger hunt idea back.

  “Keep a light on for me, Dr. Marcus,” Cy said before securing his backpack and creaking down the steps. The cyborg headed out under the mid-afternoon sun.

  Like a parent sending his child off to war, Dr. Pressfield feared the unknown. He couldn’t shake the sinking feeling inside him while watching Cy look back a final time, flashing a white-toothed smile.

  Marcus watched him for every precious second that he could. Cy’s shape slowly shrunk as he walked down the neglected neighborhood street until he was finally out of sight. Dr. Pressfield had to live with his decision – and now, he could only wait for his cyborg’s return. Please let him be ok…

  Staying close to the parkway, Cy skirted between it and the Potomac River. He ran the distance of three miles at a speed far surpassing human ability. The cyborg slowed his pace before the Reagan International Airport and noticed what was left of the place. His sensors detected Destroyers. Ker were close…

  He changed course, going due west until he reached US-1 before heading north. Cat-like, th
e cyborg darted like an ancient hunter. Cy stayed off the road and crossed over 23rd street until he came to Interstate 395. Arlington National Cemetery was on the other side of it, overgrown and decaying. The Pentagon was between him and the cemetery, both left derelict in their former glory.

  He passed the Pentagon’s ruins, which looked as if a dozen planes dive-bombed its structure. No Destroyers were guarding it, as nothing was left to guard. It was a sprawling pile of low-slung rubble. Cy looked human, but he didn’t see things as normal people saw them. A screen displayed and overlaid images in front of his human eyes, like a pop-up viewer on an advanced jet fighter. He needed to cross the river, but Ker were patrolling all four lanes of the 14th Street Bridge.

  Cy’s pop-up display showed a single Ker on each overpass. After switching to alternate route choices, he confirmed none were available. The images on his screen changed as he scrolled through them looking for a safe passage. The Key Bridge was also being guarded, and the passageway to West Potomac Park was destroyed. Cy headed for Lady Bird Johnson Memorial Park and continued north away from I-395. This is where he would cross the river. He had to get wet. There was no other way.

  Like a modern day Navy SEAL, Cy entered the water and swam the Potomac. Ker scanned over the river’s surface as Cy swam deep underwater. The cyborg was lighter than a normal man his size, swimming with ease after deflating internal buoyancy bladders. His tracking systems picked up fish. Gilled creatures curiously investigated him before skittishly bolting off. The water depth decreased and the silt bottom floor began angling up. Cy viewed the murky depths through his navigation system, closing on the shoreline.

  Making his way into the shallows, the young cyborg felt the silt floor beneath. After Cy peeked above the surface, he paused and scanned. No Ker were detected, and he quietly climbed out. He crossed over Ohio Drive and made it to within eye-shot of the Washington Monument.

  Cy waited, dripping and searching. He noticed the demolished monument. No longer tall and pointy, the structure was half its former size. Shot down by Ker, a fighter jet careened through the middle of the once-proud symbol of America. Now, like an amputated finger, it was left as a jagged reminder. Cy gazed upon the mangled jet that must have severed the monument, entombed in the grass and missing its wings. Like a hotdog that’d been left on the grill too long, it sat charred.

  200-I Street: The Laboratory.

  Two miles away:

  The White House was between him and the lab. Cy carefully approached the lawn, seeing the stately home partially intact. His scanners picked up two Destroyers, both standing still. Like metal watchdogs, a set of Ker guarded the old mansion. Dr. Pavlov wasn’t going to give the Resistance a chance at rebuilding the government. He gave half a thought to moving himself in the Lincoln bedroom, but hated too much what the place represented.

  Not wanting to offer a shred of hope to the Resistance, Seth kept close watch over 1600 Pennsylvania. Humans are like ants in that way; after their home’s been stomped on, they’ll start all over again in the same spot.

  Cy outflanked the Destroyer’s detection systems by heading west. Clear. The cyborg turned north and then due east after reaching I Street, running until he edged the lab.

  This is useless, Cy thought with a grin looking down at the access card Dr. Marcus gave him - then the pile of rubble. The building was a ramshackle of crumbled concrete and steel. Staying low, he walked until he stood over the debris. One corner of it was still partially intact. The cyborg scanned for a way in. Got it. He lifted a few chunks of concrete and a metal door that rested over a stairwell. Clear. It was easier to gain access than Cy had hoped. He walked down the steps and went through a broken steel barrier that normally separated the lab from the stairwell.

  The inside of the building looked almost as bad as the outside. Half the ceiling was on the floor. Using his night vision, Cy went through the debris heading for Dr. Pressfield’s former workspace. Cy scanned and his sensors picked up the heat signature of a power source. That’s the one. The generator was behind the buckled, wedged door to Dr. Pressfield’s office. Cy pushed on the entrance, confirming it was stuck. He backed up and squared off.

  Cy kicked the steel door, dented it and sent it flying. The ceiling drooped over the header as the door smashed against a wall inside the office. The door brought everything crashing to the ground after knocking a row of shelves loose. The violent sounds dwindled down in echoes of clanking metal until the door wobbled to a stop.

  After scanning, he carefully moved inside. He paused and the office fell silent. That way... Following his viewer like a guidance system, Cy turned his head and saw the generator. The super battery was covered in dust and sitting like a Christmas present off to the side. All read-outs indicated that it was in perfect working order.

  Cy secured the power source in his backpack and headed for the exit. Buried under thousands of pounds of concrete and twisted steel, he continued using night vision in the dark confines of the lab. Rats squeaked in the corner and Cy picked up the signal of cockroaches hiding in the cracks as he moved toward the exit. He arrived at the bottom of the staircase and froze, looking up at his only route to freedom. His seventh sense tingled and bristled with danger.

  Something was at the top of the stairs blocking his path – waiting outside.

  His detection system struggled to work under the dense ruins and flickered to get a clear signal. Cy sensed immense energy above the staircase. Something was alive. Mechanized death loomed in the shadows, massive and heavy. A fuzzy image of a Ker flashed in-and-out across his view scanner.

  CHAPTER 12 - DAYBREAK

  “The first and final thing you have to do in this world is to last it and not be smashed by it.”

  ― Ernest Hemingway

  Clio was afraid of the world, but she couldn’t stay in the car.

  Maybe they like the dark, she thought, remembering that she’d only seen two of them in the daylight, and that was by the tunnel where it was dark. She convinced herself of it – they only like the dark, and the light hurts their eyes.

  She glanced over her photon pistol and eyed its disturbingly low charge. Only a couple shots left, she pondered. The sun hadn’t yet shown itself but the morning was awake and glowing in dawn’s early light. It was enough to make her brave. She wedged herself between the two front seats and reached back to grab her rucksack. She pulled it through and positioned herself in the captain’s chair. Goose bumps raced across Clio’s flesh as she twisted in the seat and caught it out of her peripheral. Gripped in terror, she flew out of her body and looked down at herself like a rising phantom. What is it? What’s there?

  Only moving her eyes, Clio reached for the door lock and confirmed the creature inches away. It was at the driver’s side window, staring through the glass at her. “Ssshhhhaaa.” Its hiss muffled outside the car as it pondered the barrier of steel and glass between it and its meal. The monster stood outside wanting in, scratching and palming over the vehicle’s surface.

  A single tear fell from Clio’s eye. She watched the thing coil. Like a bobcat, the creature jumped out of sight and landed on the roof. She jerked, startled from its landing. The car creaked and rocked, as the monster buckled the metal roof. She readied her pistol and aimed at the roof trembling while pushing her body against the seat hard as she could. The car stopped moving and not a sound was heard. It was eerily silent… knowing it was up there. Too frightened to turn her head, Clio looked through the front windshield and moved her eyes from side to side.

  She became dizzy as her mouth sucked in air and her chest rose and fell in deep, uncontrollable respirations. Her brain snapped a picture, stopping the world in a photograph. Time stood still. As if her brain was being sucked out of her skull, her ears rang in a sound that she’d never heard before.

  Upside down, the creature’s head appeared staring through the front windshield at her. Hissing, it held on to the roof and looked in. The monster pulled away and disappeared again. Clio waited, not seeing i
t or feeling movement; wondering if it was still on the roof. Suddenly smashing down, the demon creature landed on the hood in front of her, rocking the car, crouching and hissing. “Sssshhhhaaa.”

  Clio screamed and thought of firing her pistol, but the fear of breaking the glass prevented her from pulling the trigger. Somehow it seemed foolish to destroy a barrier that the creature hadn’t broken through on its own yet. Not yet, but maybe short-lived as the beast began smashing the glass with the base of its paws.

  Its nails screeched down the windshield, sounding like a bloody squeegee. The beast paused and then reared back, striking hard. It splintered the glass in a thickening thud. The monster continued smashing and the spider web shot out in jagged cracks. Sounding like a sheet of breaking ice, the windshield began to cave. Clio aimed her pistol and watched the creature bloody its paws, pounding its retched ape hands and nails against the wilting barrier.

  The creature’s paw broke through and reached for her as if it were grasping for an invisible tennis ball. Clio’s belt loop was stuck on the emergency brake, preventing her from moving into the backseat. The glass wilted deeper. It smelled like the inside of a pigpen as the creature swiped, stirring the stench inside the car’s cabin. The demon was inches away and the girl tried to get lower, watching it like a train wreck with her back against an immovable force. The beast scraped against Clio’s skin and clenched her shirt.

  It pulled – she fired.

  The photon ray melted through the glass in a vertical strip, causing it to cave in on top of her. She felt the beast’s weight increase through the cracked windshield. The see-through barrier continued to fall and pinned her harder. She tore free from the emergency brake, ripping her pants while stretching and opening the driver’s side door. Clio squeezed out from under the heavy burden and fell through the door, cutting her arm in the process.

  Outside, Clio turned to see the creature roll off the hood, holding its stomach in the place where it had been shot. The beast limped away from the car and turned back to face her. It paused and then partially stood up before dropping back down from pain of its injury, looking at her. “Ssssshhhaaa.” Coiling in anger, it breathed hard and gurgled stringy bands of mucus from its mouth.