Humanity's Endgame

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Humanity's Endgame Page 2

by Eve Langlais


  In response, the president released more footage and even more alien artifacts, hidden until now.

  It didn’t help.

  Heads exploded. Suddenly he was betraying the country by giving away their secrets.

  Remove him from office! Having heard the word impeach so many times—every time a president was elected at this point—the populace had become immune to it. Which didn’t improve the situation because, as everyone lost their collective minds—again, as they seemed to do every other day now—the aliens entered our galaxy, and everyone with a powerful telescope could see it. It became the point where no one could deny something was coming.

  What, though? No one quite knew. Messages didn’t translate into images. Or so the government claimed. All we had to go on? A smudge moving through space.

  Could be a meteor, only it appeared guided, rapid in its trajectory, and avoiding things in its path.

  Telescopes sent a constant stream of images showing a sphere. Massive, kind of Deathstar-ish in appearance. I will admit, I dug out my Princess Leia costume and wasn’t the only one at the Halloween party wearing braided coils at the club. The guy who got into my panties was no Han Solo, but he made me see stars.

  The giant sphere came alone, and we began communicating more rapidly, apparently with the aliens. Not by voice though. The aliens replied in English to all queries.

  They said it was easier for them to learn than to teach us their language. I wasn’t the only one who burned at the perceived insult.

  The fearful doubled in number overnight and demanded our government stop the alien invasion.

  “We’re paying for Space Force. Why aren’t we deploying it?” had screamed a lifelong politician. A few years ago, they’d been among those mocking its creation.

  The president held firm. “They come in peace.”

  Oddly enough, his words brought forth a new movement, those who created signs that said Welcome. I hung out with them for a few nights. Their weed was good. The sex? Mediocre given guys who are high aren’t that motivated.

  The funniest thing during that time? The sale on butt plugs skyrocketed according to reports. The term #saynotoanalprobes began trending.

  I bought clean underwear and lube. I still had hope the aliens would be cute and single. Speculation abounded, but no one knew for sure what to expect. It led to Borg memes making the rounds.

  As the arrival date approached, the streets got chaotic. As with all things in this decade, when people got upset, riots erupted. My boss gave me the week off, but unlike many on my street, I wasn’t clearing shelves in supermarkets and hoarding. I practiced my potential speech in the mirror.

  “Hello there, handsome. How was the trip?” Too husky? Maybe I needed to go a bit higher.

  I smiled. More like a grimace in the mirror.

  What if the aliens were intelligent, but ugly? I liked to think I wasn’t that shallow.

  I channeled an old sitcom and winked. “How you doing?”

  What if there was a language barrier? What if smiling with teeth was an insult? Or eye contact? Could be that aliens didn’t flirt the same way as humans.

  All those thoughts ran through my head, never mind my chance of meeting alien life was like zero. Dental secretaries in their twenties didn’t have access to top secret meetings with extraterrestrial life, but hey, a girl could dream.

  The day arrived.

  Like the rest of the world—who wasn’t drinking the poison juice as some preached the end of the world—I was glued to my computer where a website streamed the arrival live.

  Oh, the crying by the networks when a certain billionaire bought the rights to the broadcast, and then dared to show it for free. Uncut. No commercials.

  I don’t think I blinked as the camera panned to catch the appearance of the big globe in the sky. It hovered before sinking gracefully. Not a crashing meteor as some predicted.

  It landed and appeared smoother than expected, the outer shell gray in color, having little texture.

  When the sphere hit the water, it didn’t even cause a splash.

  Oooh. I swear I heard the world exhale.

  A gangplank, narrow and without support, extended from the ship to the dock where the president and his entourage stood.

  The door to the vessel opened.

  I held my breath. Aliens. Holy fuck. I couldn’t believe this was happening.

  Little did I know, it was the beginning of the end.

  Chapter 4

  The Present

  The next block over, chafing behind the mask I used to protect me, I saw a potential building, about six stories, the balconies out front an indication they were apartments. The vestibule had been trashed, but a long time ago judging by the layer of filth on everything.

  Not by monsters. In the end, it wasn’t the aliens that attacked humanity but the survivors of the plague.

  Those changed by the experience attacked the rest. Guess I couldn’t mock those movies or television shows anymore. I’d always scoffed at the idea we’d turn on each other in the final hour. But here we were, playing humanity’s endgame, the moment we should have worked together for the greater good. Instead, we reverted to some primal version where survival trumped empathy.

  For a second, I debated not even bothering checking the upper floors; however, I knew for a fact sometimes those squatting were lazy and would avoid any effort, such as climbing stairs.

  A hand on my gun, sweating hard and stinking. It wouldn’t be noise that would give me away but the stench of me. When you lived alone, things like deodorant every day lost all meaning.

  I’d need to bathe after this. Coiled, I tensed as I went up each step, especially as I turned each corner on the landing between floors. As I moved upward, I noticed the doors leading to the first and second floor were heavily damaged. No point checking apartments. I found a body on the landing of the third. Decayed and chewed to the point the skull grinned at me.

  But it was the extra parts in the skeleton that sent me fleeing, even more fearful of the deadly shadows on my way down.

  I ignored the building to the side of it. The busted main doors indicated probably the same treatment. Despite being visible, I stuck to the middle of the road, in the afternoon sunlight. Bright and hot, yet it did little to dispel the chill within.

  Would my entire life be about fear and struggling to survive? As I passed a broken window with a stripped mannequin hanging out of it, a pang of loneliness decided to remind me that not only would my life be hard bit it would be spent alone.

  Because no one was out there. Or if they were, they hid like me.

  Yet, I had a small hope as I sauntered that maybe someone, who wasn’t an asshole rapist or a human turned monster, would see me. Man. Woman. At this point, I’d have killed to have even a cat as a companion. I had food for it stashed near my current place. Just in case things ever got super desperate.

  The afternoon light suddenly dimmed as a cloud passed over. Where had it come from?

  I frowned. When I’d left there’d not been a single cloud in the sky. It was okay. The monsters still wouldn’t come out.

  I hoped.

  My feet moved faster. I’d have to go farther.

  The next block had some lower-rise buildings, only three stories. Not ideal for supplies, however, I didn’t see many broken windows. The lobby doors remained closed, and locked. The panes of glass intact if dirty. I peered through them, but there wasn’t enough visibility to see shit.

  I pulled the door, wincing at metallic rattling. This was the part I hated.

  The hammer and chisel came out of the loops from the utility belt I wore. My knapsack was for a set of clothes and essentials. I never left home without an emergency kit.

  Placing the chisel against the seam with the bolt, I whacked it. Fast and hard. Don’t waste time. The longer I banged, the bigger target I painted. Noise drew attention. It had been months since I’d had to fight, and I wasn’t eager to break that streak. Some days I felt bad abou
t what I had to do to Corey, but then I remembered the hungry gleam in his eye and the knife in his hand, his grin as he said, Meat is meat.

  Humans weren’t meat. When he died, I left him for the monsters. I’d eat dog food before stooping to that level.

  The inside of the building felt like a tomb. Yet I doubted any of the deep pockets of shadows held any corpses. The air didn’t feel of death. Nor did it appear trashed. I might have lucked out.

  The apartment building I’d entered held a very standard kind of layout. Stairs going down to two basement units, the laundry and utility area for building management only. Up, I found four apartments, doors all closed. The window outside gave enough illumination to show the hallway intact. Such a good sign and a good thing, too, as that one cloud suddenly multiplied. I was losing daylight fast. I might have to hunker down somewhere and ride out the night. It wouldn’t be the first time.

  It saved my life more than once. My second year in, I’d gone on a recon mission for Sally, Derek, and Sloane. Got caught by a storm and spent the night in a mattress store. When I went back to our camp, it was to find them gone, only blood left behind.

  As the afternoon light waned, the stairwell darkened, and I tensed, wondering if something watched me.

  On the second landing, seeing more signs of locked doors, I decided I’d gone far enough. I tried the handle of the first apartment door, just in case it would cooperate.

  It didn’t budge. I’d have to deal with the lock. I pulled out my hammer and chisel, a girl’s best friends, and made quick work of the lock. If I chose to stay here, a hardware store would provide a replacement. For tonight, I’d barricade the opening.

  Bang. Bang. It took more shots than I liked to break my way in. I gave a fearful glance down the hall to the stairwell, half expecting to see a snarling face coming at me.

  Nothing stirred.

  I closed the door and immediately slid a small table nearby to hold it shut. I’d need heavier stuff. Something wide enough to wedge between the door and the wall a few feet in front of it. Maybe the fridge would be on wheels that worked.

  My nose wrinkled as I moved from the tight entrance into the apartment. Something had died here. Not as long ago as I would have liked judging by the ripeness. It didn’t bode well for scavenging, a fact reinforced by the empty cupboards. I even shone my light inside them to make sure I didn’t miss anything.

  Exiting the kitchen with my flashlight, the kind you could charge by shaking it hard and fast, I aimed it around and saw the signs someone had used this apartment as a base. There was litter all over. Food wrappers mostly. A toppled pile of porn magazines, stains on the couch that I didn’t plan to touch.

  Nothing usable jumped out of me, and I almost turned around to leave. Maybe I should find a different apartment. Maybe the person living here hadn’t rifled through them all.

  I should be thorough, though, hence why I went into the bedroom and found the body. It lay on the bed, most of the decay having progressed past the wet stage. A dried husk remained that would keep evaporating over time until it was only bones.

  It didn’t appear as if he’d been killed, more likely died in his sleep from the drugs he took. The nightstand held a plethora of needles and pill bottles. I had a full bottle of opioids in my pack and antibiotics. Just in case.

  Exiting the bedroom, I shone my light one last time around. Would I die alone like this person had? Would it be despair that got me as I finally cracked at the fact I’d never eat fast food again. I missed the Big Mac. And those crunchy salty fries. Soft serve ice cream. Unburned popcorn because it was fucking hard to make without a goddamned microwave.

  The flashlight remained in my hand as I entered the hall, not bothering to close the door behind me. I aimed the beam at the next door. As I neared, I saw the signs of abuse by the handle.

  I entered to find it ransacked. Along with the next.

  Fuck.

  I didn’t realize I’d hissed it aloud until I heard it. Not as if anyone heard me. This place was long abandoned. I began to head back down the hall, to the stairs, only to pause. I hurriedly shut off my light and listened.

  Creak. The noise came from the stairs, and I bolted for the nearest open apartment. I shut and leaned against the door, ear pressed to it.

  At first, I heard nothing. Perhaps it was just the building shifting. Still, it didn’t hurt to be cautious. I kept my cheek against the portal and had just about decided it was when safe when the hair on my body zapped to attention.

  I held my breath and listened.

  Huff. Huff. Grr. Ha.

  Part growl, part cackle, and such bad news.

  How long before it tracked me down? The door was busted and needed barricading. Possible, I thought as I glanced around. Only problem being it would leave me trapped in here.

  I could confront it in the hall. My gloves meant my grip wasn’t slippery on my gun. Kill it and I’d be able to use the stairs.

  What if it wasn’t alone?

  Something brushed up against the door. A nail scratched over it, and I wanted to whimper.

  It knew I was on the other side. I didn’t dare move, not even to blink as I waited to see what it would do. With a thump it cackled and moved away.

  I should exit now and kill it. Make my escape. Be brave.

  Then my brain reminded me of the last time I fought a monster. I’d barely survived. The slash that had healed and left a thick scar throbbed in reply.

  What if I could find another way out?

  The window I stumbled to opened easier than expected, a piece of luck I wouldn’t waste. Breathing hotly behind my mask, I slipped outside, the overcast sky still better than the shadowy apartment. My feet barely gripped the thin limestone ledge that ran decoratively around the building. Five years ago, my idea of climbing was the social ladder. Now? I was Spiderwoman without the webs.

  I hoped the porous stone didn’t crumble under my weight as I did my best to close the window. I couldn’t get the last inch and couldn’t waste time worrying about it. I inched sideways out of sight and hugged the brick, my cheek scraping against the rough surface.

  Tap. Tap. Something rapped at the window I’d exited. Oh shit.

  I slid over farther, breathing hard in my mask, feeling myself sweat, wishing I’d learned to pick locks. Because I had no doubt the monster found me as a result of my stupidity.

  Might as well ring a fucking dinner bell. I used my anger with myself to ignore the fact I stood precariously above the ground. I had no idea where I was going or how I’d get down even. I just kept inching.

  And then it happened.

  The ledge cracked, and I fell.

  Chapter 5

  The Past

  The president went to meet the alien delegation in person, despite a bunch of his advisors screaming no. Too dangerous. What if the aliens killed him or took him hostage?

  The opposition party also said no, but for two reasons. One, they didn’t want him to fuck it up, and two, they also didn’t want him crowned in any glory.

  Brokering a peace deal with aliens? The American people might just bend the rules and elect him for another term.

  As for me, I didn’t give a shit about the politics. This event would change the world. Who knew what wondrous things would emerge from this encounter?

  Despite being at home, glued to my screen, I dressed in my sluttiest best. I’d read a story just recently about some blue alien hottie who beamed right into someone’s apartment and abducted her. They went into the stars and fell in love.

  Sigh.

  Unlike that heroine, though, I made sure I looked my best. Even had my makeup and hair done. Lounging on my sofa—the chenille covered in an afghan so any visitors didn’t see the rips and stains—I waited with bated breath to see my first alien.

  “Oh.” The sound that emerged from me as the door to the spacecraft finished opening and the first visitor filled its frame. I began to understand why the gangplank was so narrow. The aliens gripped it and
traversed it, seven of them in total, some treading upright, others dangling upside down as they moved.

  I covered my mouth with my hand as the shock of them penetrated.

  The aliens weren’t cute. Or anything close to humanoid.

  A good thing they claimed they came in peace, because, when those many-legged things emerged, I am pretty sure more than one person in the world screamed.

  Spiders. We’d made contact with alien fucking spiders. There went my fantasy of being kidnapped and ravished by some handsome blue-skinned ET.

  The president, to his credit, remained undaunted. His staff however?

  One of his male subordinates ran off. It led to a few others following him.

  Probably for the best. We didn’t want a diplomatic incident with the arachnids. I’d seen the movies. It didn’t end well for Earth.

  Gulp.

  The lead spider, his limbs almost dainty and his frame colored a bright turquoise, paused in front of the president. Its mandibles flexed over its mouth, like deadly petals opening.

  The president, who wore a lapel microphone, greeted the thing with a coolness that almost made me applaud.

  “Welcome to the United States of America.” The president held out his hand.

  The spiders behind the leader tensed. I noticed the gray versions appeared to be wearing armor, and was that a bazooka strapped to the body of one?

  I am pretty sure the whole fucking world held its breath next as the president, with balls of steel, waited.

  Funny how even one second in a tense situation can feel as if an eternity passed.

  An alien, wearing bangles, gold and silver in appearance, lifted a leg, and the cameraman had the foresight to zoom in so we could see the strange split at the end of the appendage.

  They shook hands, er paw or claw? I didn’t know what the fuck to call anything, but I did cry. First contact had happened in my lifetime.

  Less than a week later, I cried for an even better reason.

 

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