by Ben Archer
More supports break. Suddenly the car is almost pointing straight down. We’re a lot closer to the ground than before, but I still wouldn’t want to fall from here.
I must be a psychic, because just as I think it, the jarring final break rings out. All the intense grinding and relentless racket dissolves in the actual blink of an eye. The stack of people that were on top of me gradually float away as our car finally separates from the last little bit of the track. I can feel our trajectory changing from falling forward, to dropping straight down. My hands are the first to escape gravity, followed by knees and legs, then the contents of my stomach.
The wind howls mockingly through every broken window, as our car goes from a gentle sweeping arch, to the steep drop of a thrown rock. Then, with the force pushing us all to the roof, the absolute strangest thing of all happens… the entire cabin fills with a light green jelly!
I closed my eyes, then opened them back up, and the entire car had been encased in a giant ball of lime Jell-O! I can still breathe through the solid gel for some reason, not well, but enough to make do. I can also still hear the wind whipping around of our little ball of goo. Even though there’s no room to bat an eyelid, we seem fine! Just frozen in the place! Inches from my cheek is a leather briefcase stuck in the slime like everything else: papers, people, clothing, all trapped exactly as it was during the chaotic fall.
My brief examination comes to an abrupt halt when our falling bubble finally reaches solid ground. The brutal impact is what it must feel like to be crushed between two jelly mountains. The front and back of my body are squeezed so tight that they want to meet in the middle. The air in my lungs asks to leave, but there’s nowhere else to go.
Then, just as quickly, the merciless pressure leaves. It’s replaced by uncontrollable spinning and the feeling that every internal organ is trying to find a way out. Now the speed I could handle, but this, this is a completely different kind of torture. The world swirls in a blurry mess of vomit-inducing circles. Eventually another impact comes along to slow us down. This one is smaller, yet still crushes my hollow lungs.
It seems our car has turned into a rubber ball bouncing along the desert floor. It repeatedly collides with the ground every few seconds. Each time the impact gets smaller, until it doesn’t feel as if it’s trying to squeeze out a kidney anymore.
My eyes are still rattling around as we come to a sudden stop. I want to blame them for the sensation of continued falling, except the ooze actually does seem to be melting away. Mad hysteria erupts when the goo drops down far enough to uncover every mouth in here. That’s when all the passengers decide to begin expressing their extreme hatred of me. They shout loudly while sloshing around in the sloppy jelly pools.
I look around to find that Quinn is just now reaching the ground. She’s gotten flipped upside down, but still managed to keep ahold of the two she stopped from falling out. Only when they’re safe does she finally release her tight grip on them. Our car is still on a pretty steep angle, so they slide with the goo into the corner. She uses a hanging seatbelt to prevent herself from slipping along with them.
I let the angry passengers continue venting until it starts having a negative effect on our efforts to get out of here. It’s really hard to concentrate with all the loud voices bouncing around the inside of this cramped ball. I try politely asking them to calm down. When that doesn’t work, I rip out a chair, and shout them into a compact pile in the corner.
Fear can be effective too.
The peace and quiet allows me to finally focus on the strange sphere trapping us in. While the goo’s mostly gone, the thick outer shell still remains. It seems to be built out of several large interconnected plastic panels that surround the entire car. Imagine the view from inside a hamster ball and you pretty much got it. Moving around in the goo doesn’t help either. We’re all coated in a lovely film that makes any attempt at standing more like a semi-controllable slide. We look like baby deer walking for the first time.
The passengers have begun mumbling as if they’re plotting a mutiny. What they don’t know is that I’m not their real problem. I want out just as bad as they want me out. Also, if they knew what was coming, they might be a little more helpful since I sincerely doubt the army of assholes will discriminate much between us and them. So for their sake, we need to get far, far away from here. At least dropping out of the sky should buy us a few minutes head start. You can’t find a faster route than straight down.
I quickly return to examining the outer shell. My hands slide from top to bottom trying to find a weak point. Quinn doesn’t mess with my intellectual approach. Instead she crawls up to the plastic and makes an instant exit with her claws. On her way out she gives me a look that’s equal parts arrogance and skepticism.
Hum, guess I overthought that a bit.
I turn back to the pissed group before leaving, “Look, I’m sorry to crash your party. This wasn’t what I planned either. But don’t worry you’ll never have to see either of us again.” Their collective cold shoulders don’t do much to relieve the heat already pouring in through the flapping exit.
Chapter 28: Attack & Release
There’s an unnerving crunch when I step onto the scorching sand for the first time. The grains burn like little charcoals every time they find some bare skin. The left over goo certainly isn’t helping by trapping every piece tight up against me. As a result, the pain lingers even longer than it should.
I seek shelter behind one of the massive beams that our car has been wedged against. The severity of our situation comes into better focus when I notice the metal is actually one of the legs of the Eiffel Tower! Well, not the Eiffel tower, but a Vegas-sized replica of it. Besides being an impressive monument, what this immediately means is that we didn’t come close to clearing the wastelands.
I’m not completely sure where this goes on our list of growing problems. I’ve only heard rumors of what goes on here, but even those are enough to get me scanning the abandoned city a whole lot faster. And that doesn’t take much time since there’s not much left of it. The hungry desert has already reclaimed most of the former metropolis. All the best parts are buried underneath deep mountains of sand. From where I sit, only a few of the taller buildings are still left poking out of the ground.
That doesn’t mean there isn’t plenty of evidence of the Hellscape waiting for us: bullet ridden walls, razor wire, graffiti tags, and ground-up bones are all mixed in with the gritty sand.
The gravity of the situation seems completely lost on Quinn. “We need to go, NOW. There’s no time to explain so you’re gonna have to trust me on this one.”
While my lips are still unfurling from saying the word “one”, the sound of the first body hits. The strange noise takes several more moments to even register as something to be concerned about. We’re trained to instinctively fear the crack of a gun, or squealing tires, but the solid “thud” sound meant almost nothing to me.
Then the second one crashes down.
With many, many more to follow.
Bodies are dropping from the sky like autumn leaves in a thunderstorm. Every few seconds another one collides with the hard-packed sand. The steady trickle quickly turns into a cascading waterfall of human raindrops. Some of them ricochet off the metal beams and are instantly split into several pieces. I watch in shock as they slam into the ground following the path of the tracks above. But the undeniably most horrifying, soul trembling, gut wrenching part is that they’re watching me back.
They keep their dead eyes locked on me… All.
The.
Way.
Down.
None of them scream, yell, or really do anything more than stare at me. Their cold faces show absolutely no fear. Instead they seem almost curious in nature, as if they’ve all been possessed by the same quizzical demon. It’s so unnerving that Quinn has to pull me back inside the car to escape the approaching stream of bodies.
I’m still trying to shake off the fear induced numbness
when they start crashing into the top of the already crumpled cab. The rest of the passengers have no idea what’s actually happening, let alone the bone-chilling way they’re doing it, but their screams easily make up for the herd of silent jumpers. Quinn and I have to drag them away from the windows while the human rainstorm finishes passing over. Dozens of violent collisions strike the tiny car during the fast moving storm. By the time it’s safe to look out, the tranquil desert has been turned into a horror show of torn bodies.
Quinn grabs my unconsciously shaking wrist and says in a steady tone, “You were saying it’s time to go, ‘eh?” I look around and find every direction looks equally horrible. We obviously can’t follow the terrifying storm, so…
One direction down, three to go.
The roaring rumble of unknown engines crack to life from somewhere behind us. They sound raw and full of venom, as if they’ve been patched together from old scavenged parts.
Two directions down, two to go.
It’s a fifty/fifty shot at this point. There probably isn’t really a good direction, so we just head off toward the dark alleyway to the left. Everything goes pretty well for the first few blocks. We agree to only take streets that have lots of trash or shadows to hide in. But this plan unintentionally takes us deeper into the heart of the city.
I catch a shadow scurrying into a huge pile of garbage out of the corner of my eye. Quinn lets out a small scream before I can cover her mouth. If her eyes are any indication of what’s over there, it’s nothing I wanna screw with. I give the shadow a gentle smile in hopes it doesn’t become the newest addition to our list of problems. Three eyes rapidly blink back from inside the trash cave.
Blink blink blink blink blink blink blink blink blink
The hidden creature lets out a deep, crackling hiss that raises every hair on the back of my neck. I try to keep the forced smile even after several bottles come hurling out toward us. While they smash harmlessly against the wall, it’s more than enough for Quinn to already be halfway down the block.
She wisely doesn’t choose to stay out in the open for very long; dipping into a non-descript looking building in the middle of the next street over. By the time I catch up she’s hidden behind a loose piece of metal sheeting. I take a step back to look at the bland structure. It’s not much more than a square block of concrete with no cool architecture to catch your eye. All in all, it’s just a plain ol’ brown box.
I’ve spent a lot of time hiding, so trust me when I say the best spots are always right out in the middle of everything. It has to be some place that you would never even look at twice. If it looks like a good hiding spot, it isn’t.
This seems to fit that bill perfectly. One whole side is covered by a steep bank of sand, while every other door and window has been securely boarded up with scrap. By the looks of it, no one’s been there for a very long time. There are no prints in the thick dust or tracks going in or out. I lean against the door and it sounds just as empty as it looks.
Suddenly, six loud booms echo off the side of the building.
“Pop” “Pop” “Pop” “Pop” “Pop” “Pop”
Six gun shots ─six people were in that cab. Don’t think for a second that I’m not aware of how they got there either. The group would be off living happy lives if it weren’t for me. On purpose or not, I brought them here. Their blood is on me.
I have to fight back the instinct to shut down and wallow in guilt. It may sound cold, but I have to push it down with the rest and simply move on. One unusually deep gulp is all I allow myself, before whispering for Quinn to smooth the sand behind us. She retrieves some garbage from a pile and methodically covers our tracks.
The motorcycle engines fire up again, so I give the door a solid hit with my least injured shoulder. When it doesn’t budge, I move back further to give it another try.
Nothing.
I scoot back a few more feet to give it a bit of a run this time. Damn! Still nothing more than a bruised shoulder! This is one solid door! I signal Quinn and we both hit the door with everything we’ve got!
That’s when the damn thing finally surrenders to us! As soon as the springs snap (loudly), an overwhelming rush of mold spews out of the coal black room inside. I reach in and the first thing I notice is how bizarrely cold the door is. How could anything out here possibly be this cold? It’s a fascinating mystery, but not one that will keep me out today. Then I examine the broken lock and the mystery grows even deeper.
No wonder it didn’t open easily! There are six steel rods hidden underneath the very normal looking outer shell. It’s as if someone took a bank vault and tried to make it look like a regular door. Now, I admit this does give me some serious hesitation, although the rumbling engines are proof that whatever’s in there, is much better than what’s out here.
I do make one last attempt at peering into the mystery room, before committing my toes to moving inside. Sadly, the dark void doesn’t give up even the slightest hint of what’s to come. That being said, there’s nothing visibly wrong with it either. The only thing holding me back is the churning nervousness in the pit of my stomach. That’s a feeling that’s easy enough to put aside, because there’s no other choice. We have to take a gamble on this unknown room.
I hesitantly slide through the door, while Quinn covers the last of our tracks. Once inside I slam the door and seal it tight. We broke some of the steel rods off, but turning the crank still plunges the rest in with beautiful precision. They slide several feet back into the walls, so whatever was here, was pretty damn secure. Hopefully they’ll keep us safe too.
Not even a single beam of light leaks around the sealed door. We’re submerged in a pool of darkness thick enough to swim in. I ask Quinn to look for a light switch as my fingers search the mostly smooth walls. The only textures I feel are the flat metal walls and extra-large rivets poking out. There are so many that it appears this might have been an industrial warehouse of some kind, even though it certainly didn’t look like it from the outside.
“Any luck?” Her only answer is a rapid heartbeat. And something else is new the low hum of a pulsating machine. “Do you hear that humming?”
”Quinn?”
A synthetic voice answers from the void, “That’s just me.”
Chapter 29: Waiting for my Rocket to Come
A retina-searing beam of light joins the artificial voice. The sapphire laser punctures the darkness, spreads out, and works up the entire length of my body.
“What’s your business here outsider?” the harsh voice commands. This mysterious creature doesn’t sound even close to human-- more like a pissed off ATM. I still haven’t heard a peep from Quinn, so maybe it’s best we handle this delicately for now. “Easy friend. We just needed a place to hide and accidently stumbled in here.” I answer in an almost comically soothing voice. “We’re looking for a quick way out of town. See, there’s these people from Vegas looking for us and they...”
“So you bring a war to my front door then?”
Balls.
“Yeah, well, about that…” I stumble through words to find a reasonable explanation that will calm the voice back down. Maybe it wasn’t such a great idea to mention the band of psycho nuts after us? The blue beam quickly shifts to illuminate the side of Quinn’s cheek. It also highlights the shiny metallic fingers that are pressed firmly over her mouth. Unfortunately, I still can’t see anything hidden past the blinding light.
“Outsiders have no place here. Take your problems elsewhere or I will crush her skull into arrrr… auggghhhhh” he groans before the light abruptly drops to the floor.
“Hayden, I hit ‘em in the balls!” Quinn excitedly explains.
It seems the angry flashlight is human after all. I hastily shout, “Get him while he’s down! Whatever you do, don’t let it back up!”
“No problem.” She answers savagely.
Thump. Ping. Clang. Bang.
The spotlight finally flickers all the way off. It leaves me in utter darkness,
listening to noises straight out of a bad joke. Each one sounds totally different than the rest. It’s getting hard to tell if she’s punching a side of beef, or a tin can. I’m stuck blindly walking around trying to find them; which should be easy in such a small room, except the echoes make it sound as if they’re everywhere at once.
Then, out of nowhere, “Daddy daddy daddy!” cries out in fake new synthetic voices.
That’s it.
My mind’s snapped.
This is all just one big hallucination coming from a broken brain that’s simply making shit up now. I’m already settling into my comfy seat aboard the crazy train when the lights finally come on ─and not one, but two─ baby robots run in. One boy. One girl.
Well, that’s certainly not something you see every day. They both cling to this half human/half machine thing on the floor. I don’t know if he/it has been in an accident, or some kind of freaky experiment, but it appears that most of its body has been replaced by mechanical substitutes. The only real flesh left is on half the face and one full arm. It even wears goggles that blink while trying to adjust to the light.
The clinging “children” beg me, with big blue digital eyes, to not hurt their “Daddy.” Quinn staggers away at the sight of them. “I uh… I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing here Hayden.” She’s looking to me for some kind of guidance, except I’m just as bewildered as she is.
Another adult-sized robot adds to the confusion by storming into the suddenly cramped room. This new one is female and obviously the “Mother” because of the way she instantly protects her children. The “Father” appears to be the only one with any actual human parts, the rest are 100% metal.
“Please don’t hurt my Daddy mister.” pleads the sympathetic robot boy. There’s genuine emotion rooted in his artificial voice. This is clearly his dad. And this really is his family, a tad different than what I’m used to, but who am I to judge? Not to mention, it was us who invaded their home.