Forward

Written by Nicholas Haggard

Edited by Caleb Bertram

Cover Design by The Design Dusk Team

This collection is dedicated to all of the people who entered and left my life in the briefest of moments. The strangers I made eye contact with and the friends I made just to never see again. Sometimes I wonder how much of an impact our small interaction had on each of our lives.

Originally I meant for this to be a six month project that was around 7-9 stories long. Somehow that snowballed into 20+ stories wrote in just under a two year time line.

I think that after countless hours of editing that I will never be fully satisfied with this collection so I’m just putting it out in the universe and moving on to my other projects. I decided to cut some stories that didn’t fit thematically, touched topics that I thought might be too sensitive, or that I didn’t like.

I hope you enjoy some of the stories!

Those We Leave Behind

“Avery, wait. I’m going to need a quick breather.” Yanis called from close behind. His voice was hoarse, and his breathing was ragged. Her own breath didn’t sound much better.

Yanis’s purple-hazy silhouette emerged from the shroud of darkness. A dark, living mist covered the entire planet of Coth-8, giving it the appearance of eternal night. Even with their lanternsuits on at maximum power, she could barely see him a few feet away. The glowing wires that covered their suits were designed with a dual purpose: to illuminate the immediate surroundings and to deter the native creatures. They learned the hard way that the suits weren’t entirely effective when they found Kyler.

Yanis was a hulking giant—at least he was when he wasn’t kneeling, breathing like his lungs would collapse at any moment. He seemed to be suffering from a mix of an asthma attack and a panic attack. Neon purple reflected off of his gold wedding band, which was tied to a thin leather cord wrapped around his neck.

“Take deep, slow breaths, Yanis. It’s going to be okay.” Avery’s motherly instincts kicked in, and she gently placed a hand on his shoulder. Each day spent in this wretched hellscape, she missed her family more and more.

“What are you, some kind of fucking shrink?” Yanis choked out. His breathing slowed to almost normal, and his face relaxed. Yanis had a funny way of showing appreciation.

She spoke before he fully recovered. “We have to keep moving. The treetops may be quiet now, but that doesn’t mean we’re safe. If anything, it means those things are trying to lure us into a false sense of security so they can ambush us.”

“I know. I keep seeing Kyler’s body. The way it was mangled. The missing limbs. He was still alive when we ran, Avery. We let him die.”

“He was going to die either way, there was no saving him. I would rather us two make it out than all three of us die.” Thoughts of Kyler would have to wait until they made it safely onboard their ship. “How much farther is the ship? These suits are the only thing keeping us alive right now, and I’m sitting at ten percent battery life.”

Unseen branches cracked and whistled overhead.

Both of their pistols were unholstered and aimed upward. Sweat trickled down her forehead as Avery stared at the impenetrable dark mist. For several seconds, the two remain still, like a deer that has spotted a potential predator. Her finger gently squeezed against the trigger.

Finally, Yanis spoke again. “My GPS says just over four kilometers.” He checked his own suit battery and sighed.

“How many miles is that?”

“I don’t know. What do I look like to you, a human calculator? Why can’t you Americans use an intuitive, easy-to-understand measurement system like the rest of us?” His voice is tinged with playful irritation.

Avery wanted to laugh, and she almost did, grateful they were resuming their typical banter.

He spoke, serious again. “I think we could make it about halfway until our suits shut off, but one of us might be able to make it if the other gives up their suit’s fuel cell.”

She lets the thought simmer, churning it inside of her mind. Yanis dead. Lucas is playing soccer, kicking the ball into the opposing team’s goal. Charlie is coloring the walls while Adam distracts Avery and George with endless questions about the universe. Yanis’s family crying at his funeral. Closed casket, no body recovered.

“I can’t die, Yanis. Not here. Not yet.”

He opened his mouth as if the words pained him. “Take my fuel cell, Ave. I don’t think I could make it anyway. My cardio isn’t what it used to be, thanks to the mountains of cigarettes and booze over the years. Just don’t let me die in vain.”

Slow tears fell down the ridges of his cheeks as he unplugged his suit. His hand trembled as he handed her the fuel cell. Bright purple wires dimmed and darkened until the darkness consumed him completely.

Survival

Tiny insects hop across the surface of the slow moving river. Their small wings are too weak to remain airborne for long. They act as the perfect bait, oblivious to the two larger sets of hungry eyes watching them. Across the universe, water runs clear, but here in this jungle, it has a purple hue. It mirrors the violet leaves of the nearby foliage. The group gathers and hovers over a mass of underwater rocks, disturbing the still surface with small ripples. Four mandibles unfold casually beside the rocks, and the Mawfish strikes. It leaps out of the water, closing its wide mouth around the center of the pack, consuming the majority of the bugs. In that same instant, Jack twitches his right wrist, sending his fishing spear flying into the center of the fish.

Pulling the spear back, he snatches the limp fish and throws it in his pack. It’s easily a four pound fish, enough food to sustain him for an entire day. He leaned his three-pronged spear over his shoulder and began walking to the Bilet tree. He spent a countless amount of hours whittling and carving the white wooden spear, though it took a lot less time for him to make the spear than the camouflage leaf clothing he wore. If any other human saw him, he would look like a primitive caveman, except for the USFA patch sewn onto one of the leaves covering his chest. The patch reminded him of his previous life, which had already been forgotten in the four months he’d been stranded on this planet.

Jack missed the idea of his life from before more than he actually missed it. Focusing on survival gave him peace from the hidden genes passed from his primeval human ancestors. A gene that came to light when constantly on the verge of life and death.

At first, when he was still trying to figure out how to survive day to day, his spear would get caught on thieving vines and twisted branches, but now he moved with more grace. Unconsciously dodging the many obstacles of the jungle floor.

Sweat pours from his body like a waterfall coming out from every pore. It leaves behind a dangerous scent trail that many predators could follow. There’s no helping it, such is the exhausting reality of hiking through the ferocious jungle. He advanced through the dense, white wood trees. Broad leaves and thin branches brushed against his body until he arrived at the small clearing. In the center, the Bilet tree rises like a monument from God. It’s four times as wide as him and about ten feet tall. Around the trunk were bright pink ferns that curled up as he approached.

Bilets, box-shaped yellow fruits hanging from the tree, are inedible to humans. Although inedible to Jack, something else thrived off of them. Something that Jack needed. Flame moths loved to lay their offspring in hollowed out fruits. Jack pulled out a dirty jar from his pack and waited under the tree, not daring to move. Minutes crawl by slower than his previous time waiting at the DMV. Eventually, a young flame moth darts out of a fruit, its fiery wings giving it its position away. He leaps forward, encasing it in the glass jar.

It bounces around the inside of the jar almost too fast for the naked eye to follow. With a lifespan of a few hours, they had to move with maximum speed. The mothling’s wings would burn to ash before the sun set that day, and moments later its body.

By the time he reached his temporary base, hot sweat had soaked every inch of his pants and shirt. His base consisted of a sleeping bag under a lean-to, a stone-enclosed fire pit, and a trunk full of random scavenged supplies. Around the perimeter were solar-powered sonar devices that would hopefully deter most native hunter species.

He assembled various dry sticks into a pyramid. His dad was always a better outdoorsman than him, but a few lessons stuck, including how to create a good structure for a fire. Jack opened the moth jar, holding it against the unlit campfire. Immediately, the moth flew into the sticks and bounced around, stuck in the center. Its wings scorched the sticks closest to it. The only way to create a fire faster than a flame moth would be using straight gasoline, a luxury he didn’t own. Soon, the tiny sparks became a blazing fire.

Sparing no time, he filleted his fish and threw it on the campfire. Suddenly, a high-pitched, piercing scream filled the campsite just as his meal was finished cooking. He fell to the ground, cupping his ears as hard as possible. His ear drums were shredded by the nonstop assault that rattled his skull. Using all the willpower he contained, he pushed himself up and scanned the campsite.

An Emitter closes in on his food. The cone-shaped appendages above its canid body blast the noise in Jack’s direction. He leaps to his backpack and rips out a pair of orange earplugs. Haphazardly, he shoves them into his ears. Blood drips down from his ears and onto his dirty hands. With the noise subsided, he sprints to the creature. Right before it has the chance to consume his fish, he lands a full-force kick to its head.

It reels back at the hit, and the noise comes to a halt. Its head quivers at the unexpected pain, and it jumps into nearby foliage. Emitters are deadly creatures but also cowards. Any form of resistance would scare them away. They were more of a scavenger than predator.

The rest of the meal went without any other incidents, but in case it decided to come back, he left the earplugs in.

Nightfall arrives, a pitch black shroud of darkness. Jack struggles to pull out his datapad. When it’s turned on, the bright light blinds his dilated eyes. The display reads: Arrival in thirteen hours, rendezvous at coordinates 131072.50:131072.50:5731072.50. Hope blossomed in his heart for the first time in months. He might actually make it off this death trap of a planet. Although he should be relieved, he can’t shake an ominous feeling. He sighs, says a silent prayer, and drifts into sleep.

The packing list was as light as Jack managed. Datapad, fishing spear, a handful of berries and nuts scavenged the past week, combat knife, flare gun with two flares left, and his foldable shovel sharpened enough to cut small trees and wood. Any minute now, his rescue ship would fly overhead, landing a few miles north. He tossed his combat knife in the air, catching it with his other hand. Jack starts the hike.

At midday, he sees the smoke. A massive plume of black clouds snakes up high into the sky, its tail coming from the direction of the rendezvous. He takes off in a careless sprint as fast as possible. The adrenaline in his body lightens the weight of the backpack. A few thousand feet from the ship, his foot catches on an upright root causing him to fall face first. He tumbles down an incline towards a steep cliff, previously obscured. The fingers on his left hand claw at the dirt trying to stop the momentum but fail. At the edge, he manages to grab a small tree. His legs dangle over the edge as he pulls. Once Jack pulls himself to safety, he shoots a glance down the canyon. It stretches into an abyss of darkness. There is no telling how deep it is from up here. The edge goes over the horizon in each direction and is a couple hundred feet wide. His journey around would take a few days.

On the first day, he broke off his spear into the hide of a rhetorvan. The carnivorous plant slithered away with the three spearheads deep into its mouth. The second day, he went through the last of his food, drank all of his water, and used both flares in his gun to signal the crew of the ship with no response. Towards the end of the third day, he arrived.

A trail of broken trees and scorched dirt led him to the ship. The fires had been out for a while, but the charred remains of creatures and plants were breadcrumbs leading Jack to that which he sought. The graveyard of a ship was hardly recognizable, covered in the red fleshy webbing of the Northex. Jack crouched in the undergrowth, scouting for a way past the Northex and into his last hope. The air smells of oil, machinery, and bile.

Three feet tall, organized, and intelligent, the Northex are one of the more formidable species on the planet. In his eyes, they were the apex predators of the planet. They had a tough exoskeleton, six legs, and specialized arms depending on their respective caste. The builders had nozzle arms that spewed the fleshy structure used to craft their hives. Currently, the ship is surrounded by unassuming builders. They are too occupied with adding to their new home to worry about humans lurking about.

Soldiers had organic shears for right arms able to cut through most materials. Their left arms, shaped similarly to keys, were used to open the organic doorways to their nests. Two soldiers stood like watchdogs at the landing bay of the ship. The landing doors were open, but a wall of flesh webbing enclosed it. If the creatures had already infiltrated the ship, survivors weren’t probable. There might be an antenna or other electronics scavengeable. With a good enough haul, Jack has the know-how to rig up a long-range communication device. Then, it was a matter of signaling home to send another rescue operation. Though, how many more would be willing to die to save a single person?

If the supply room hasn’t been broken into yet, then there should also be months’ worth of rations. And even if he couldn’t loot anything, what kind of person wouldn’t check the ship for survivors? While there’s only a minuscule chance of a survivor, that doesn’t completely eliminate the possibility. A poor, unlucky soul could very well be hanging on by a thread. Three months ago, when Jack first arrived, being the sole survivor was the most challenging time of his life, and he would have given a limb to have anyone else with him.

He snuck towards the pair of gate guardians, taking his time to concentrate on complete silence. The combat knife is in his right hand, and the small shovel is in his left. About fifteen feet away, the closest one turned. Its antenna twitched while its black obsidian eyes scanned the surroundings for intruders. Its unblinking eyes stared at Jack, but it didn’t make the first move. His right hand moves like lightning, throwing the knife, and the blade disappears deep into the skull of the giant insect. It collapses violently, seizing on the ground.

The second soldier charged. A bladed arm slashed at his stomach. Jack backstepped out of the way just to find the blades coming at him again. Relentlessly, the creature attacked, not leaving any openings. It grazes his left leg, drawing a thin line of blood. He slams the shovel down onto the top of the creature’s right arm, knocking it into the dirt. The Northex tries to move it, but the arm is embedded in the ground. He lets out a battle cry and slashes sideways, cutting the creature’s head in half.

Jack heaves with exhaustion. All around the builder, Northex watch, unmoving. He flips them off, and as if on cue, the bugs go back to work. With his shovel in hand, he hacks off the left arm. Taking it, he walks to the door of flesh and sticks it into a hole in the center of it. The ridges on the arm hit the organic lock mechanism in the correct order, and the door opens wide, letting him enter the bowels of the hive ship.

The interior of the ship had been rearranged into a series of tunnels of flesh and steel. It no longer resembled a human construct. No room is untouched. Storage rooms are filled with sacks of wet, soggy bunches of eggs. Any and all supplies opened and trashed.

He wanders cautiously down the twisting guts of the hive, trying to keep track of each turn he takes. In some rooms and corridors, the metal had been cut apart and separated, the fleshy webbing being used to rearrange and expand the ship’s interior.

All the electronics in the ship are fried, either by the crash landing, an internal issue, or maybe it was the red goo that seeped through minuscule cracks and screw holes. The mission stunk of failure, the longer he stays the bigger the risk. Jack sighed and turned around to leave. In part because of the lack of supplies and also an uneasiness deep in the pit of his stomach that had been there since he first saw the ship.

The turns behind him twist and curve differently from what he remembers, and after thirty minutes of wandering, he is lost. He felt akin to a rat trapped inside a maze full of starving cats. He passes by the medical bay, whose doors are shut, the first intact human doors he has seen since arriving. The control panel is busted, and the doors don’t budge when he tries to open them with his bare hands. Using the shovel as a crowbar, he leverages his total weight to pry apart the door.

Interior locks click and snap, and it slides open. His shovel is bent at a ninety degree angle from the abuse. He tosses it to the side, cursing himself.

A soldier is slumped over on the ground, leaning on one of the surgical tables that fill the room. He rushes to the soldier’s body, checking for a pulse. There is none. Jack takes the dog tags off and prays.

Jack pulls a walkie-talkie from the soldier’s hip and whispers into it. “Hello. Is anyone… Is anyone there?” His voice doesn’t sound like he remembers. It’s too rough and shaky.

A thin, wispy voice answers, “H-h-hello? Where are you?”

Jack laughs, and tears of joy fill his eyes. “I’m in the med bay, but I’m lost. What about you?”

“Don’t move, we’re on our way.”

Jack waited, watching the door, and his hopes and prayers were answered.

A northex walks in. One arm is attached to a human head while the other is fused into a walkie talkie. Hundreds of soldier northex begin to pile through the doorway towards him, all along the walls and ceiling.

He grabs a pistol from the dead soldier and pushes his back against the wall. They half surround him, but as one moves towards him, he fires a shot directly into the center of its head.

They continue inching forward, testing their prey; he fires again, killing another one. Where one is killed, another takes its place. This goes on until his gun clicks empty. There is no other option but to fight in close quarters.

He grabs a nearby IV pole and swings wildly. Many are fended off for a brief moment, but eventually, they see the pattern of his movements, and one scratches his left arm. When he tries to retaliate, a different one gives him a gash across his cheek. He falls to his knees as another one pierces his left leg from behind. Pinned to the ground, the creatures finished off their prey.

Subterranean Ocean

Her steps echoed hurriedly across the submarine’s main corridor. Pristine steel pipes line the walls, transporting precious air and water. After months of waiting Lynn had finally built up enough courage to admit her love to Dr. Allen. She opened the main hatch and strolled into the piloting bay. Like normal, he was staring hopelessly at the monitors around him. Discarded coffee cups and nutrition packets were scattered across the room- not from him but from her during her previous shift. At the sound of the door opening, he turned, surprise written all over his face.

“Lynn, what are you doing up here? Your shift isn’t for another six hours.” The two of them manned the submarine in alternating twelve-hour shifts. His was noon to midnight, while her own was midnight to noon. It was currently 6:14 p.m.

“I know this feels sudden and like it’s coming out of nowhere, but I can’t keep it a secret anymore. I’m in love with you. Every day and every night you’re all I can think about. I know it might be frowned upon, you being my boss and all. But ever since I met you three years ago, I’ve known you were the one for me.”

He looked back and forth between her and the floor. “Lynn. I genuinely like you as a person, a colleague, and even a close friend but I don’t see you in that way. I certainly didn’t mean to give you any type of impression. I’m sorry.”

“I can’t just unfeel my feelings. Dr. A, I’m in love with you.” She rushed forward and kissed him before he could respond. His rough hands grabbed her shoulders and flung her to the ground.

“What the hell is wrong with you? How dare you say that to me in the most remote place on Earth! I’ve already told you before, and this is the last time. I’m happily married. I will never leave my wife for you. Now get the fuck out.” Spit flew from his mouth, and his face was turning bright red.

“I’m sorry, it’s just-it’s-uh.” She couldn’t get the words out through the deep sobs.

“GET OUT!!!”

Hundreds of miles below the surface of the Earth, Lynn was on a lonely submarine, crying on her bed. She kept willing herself to stop crying, but tears wouldn’t stop falling. What series of bad decisions in her life led her to this wretched metal box? She felt the type of loneliness where loved ones surround you, but you still feel alone. Her heart ached, and a migraine was creeping its way in.

Stifling her sobs, she crawled onto her small desk chair and watched the swirling darkness from her window. Lynn was so sure that Allen loved her back that she followed him on this wild goose chase to find life out here in the darkest reaches of the Earth. It’s clear now that he just wanted to use her and never expected her to confess her apparent feelings for him. There was always chemistry between the two, but now it seemed as if he was manipulating her naivety from the start.

Her parents tried to warn her when she first developed the crush: “Look sweetie, he’s twice your age, and I just don’t think it’ll work…..” and “Look, you’ll figure it out one day. These things take time.” They always acted like they should have full control over her life. At the time, she thought they didn’t understand her, but now she felt like a complete and utter fool. The migraine in her head slowly faded, and her neck tingled like someone was watching from afar.

Who are you?

The thought infiltrated her mind and yet was not her own. The voice was deep and slow, completely unfamiliar to her. She blinked rapidly, realizing a giant set of eyes were watching her intently from the water. They must have appeared while she was deep in thought. “Holy shit, I’m finally losing it; I’m hearing voices in my head and seeing things.” The yellow eyes tilted slightly as if a head was cocked over, watching her questioningly.

That doesn’t answer my question, yet the answer proves some intelligence behind your tiny skull.

Lynn glanced back to the door of her room. Should she run and tell Allen what she saw, or would he just call her a lunatic? Undoubtedly, their sonar would have detected something so large if it was real. Could this be some horrific side effect of stress? She looked back at the window, but the eyes were gone. She drifted off to sleep, confused and exhausted.

The sonar screen was blank like always; nothing alive had been detected in the few weeks since they’ve arrived. She opened the log files from the day before to check when the visitor had appeared. The page for yesterday was blank, like every day before. Further evidence that she was losing it. She shut down the computer and went back to her room. It wouldn’t hurt to skip a couple of shifts while Allen calmed down. The pipes that lined the long hallway creaked and groaned as she passed. The submarine itself was disturbed by Lynn’s state of mind.

The first thing she noticed as she walked back in was the set of yellow eyes in her window, watching her intently. No intrusive thoughts entered her mind this time; the eyes just sat patiently.

She hesitated before speaking, butterflies fluttered in her stomach. “My name is Lynn. I come from the surface. What ….or should I say, who are you?”

I am known by many things, but a simple name you could call me is Ken. What is the surface? Is it another part of the ocean?

Lynn couldn’t help but let out a boisterous laugh at the name and the absurdity of the question. “You must be imaginary because only my imagination could come up with a name and question that absurd.” The eyes slowly blinked but said nothing in response.

“Well, Ken, it’s a pleasure to meet you. The surface is hundreds of miles above this ocean. It’s like the sea floor but without water. As for the reason why I’m here… I guess you could say that I’ve always been alone, and for some reason, I thought coming here would solve my problems. I think my coming here was me trying to run from them instead of trying to fix them.”

An awkward silence filled her mind,the air, and the water as he considered his response.

I also feel lonely. Could we perhaps be friends?

A month passed, and Lynn and Ken’s friendship blossomed. She spent most days in her quarters reading and “talking” to him. Allen seemed to either not notice her absence or not care because he had gone about business as usual. After a month of silence, Allen finally went to speak to her. As usual, when Ken wasn’t there, she was bored, waiting and watching at the window.

A slow knock thumped on her door, and before she had a chance to get up, it opened. Allen opened his mouth, probably to say some rehearsed line, but stopped and looked around the room covered in trash and dirty laundry.

She broke the silence first “Hey.”

He looked up and met her eyes. His normally blank face had a guilty look to it. “Hey. Look, I know the way I acted was out of line, and I just wanted to apologize. I don’t want your last memories of me to be me hitting you. I’m sorry.”

Lynn turned her head back to the window. “ It’s okay. I forgive you. You can leave now.”

Allen stayed in place. “That’s not all I wanted to say, but I’ll leave soon. It’s time for us to head back up. Our supplies are at the caution levels, and we have nothing to show for it—all of this time and money for nothing.” He slumped his head down and sighed. When he left the room, he didn’t close the door.

Lynn knew Ken must have a way of hiding himself from Allen’s prying eyes and technology. Finally, two familiar, loving eyes appeared at the window. “Ken! I’ve been waiting forever today to talk to you. You’ve been gone so long. Are you okay?” She beamed at the window.

Just out hunting and scaring any predators away from you, darling.

Her expression soured as she thought about what Allen had said. “I don’t know how to say it, but we’re heading back to the surface soon.” Tears came to her eyes as she thought of losing someone as close to her as Ken. “I don’t know how I’ll be able to live after losing someone like you.”

How much longer do we have?

“Honestly, not much longer, just a day or two until we are too high up for you to find us anymore.

I enjoyed our time together too. Our conversations brought me great joy. Goodbye, friend.

The submarine shook violently, the lights flickered at the disturbance. Walls began to shrink and crumble. The Kraken tore apart the ship, finally eating its food. Two hungry eyes disappear back into the void.

Artificial Eclipse

Ducks swim lazily unaffected by the coming astral phenomenon. The sky is clear and blue, the clouds purposefully dispersed to give a clear view of the sun and moon.

“Don’t bother putting on your eclipse glass. We’re all going to die soon anyways.” The man wearing blue robes said. He was skinny and had a slightly hunched back. His robe had an eclipse embroidery patch sewn on the chest and both sleeves. He was looking at me expectedly, waiting for some retort.

I ignored him and kept the glasses in my hand firmly. His outfit matched the description in the folder but I need to be sure he’s not just some random nutter before I make my move.

He stares at me. We’re the only two here at the park, me sitting on a bench and him standing next to it. It’s annoying having to work right now but at least the view of the river is gorgeous. With all the money and effort I put into that project I deserve a good view of the eclipse. All the sacrifices. The lives. That idiot is still staring at me.

I turn to him. “What makes you think we’re all going to die? Have we ever died because of an eclipse before?” I wanted to ask gently but my voice is harsh.

He smiles revealing crooked yellow and grey teeth. “It’s not the eclipse that’s going to kill us. My goodman. It’s…the thing causing the eclipse.”

“The moon? You can’t be serious.”

“Oh I’m more than just a serious stranger. And we both know that’s not our real moon. Our planet was created with the original moon in mind. It blocked alien objects, harmful sun rays, and helped regulate the ocean. God’s gift to mankind.” He looks both ways making sure no one is eavesdropping. “This new one on the other hand.” He scoffs. “You really need me to spell it out for you.”

The man looks at me expecting a nod of approval or some fucking pat on the back.

I push. “What do you mean? You can’t leave me on a cliffhanger like that. What’s wrong with it?” I KNOW what’s wrong with it. He shouldn’t know…but he does.

He raises an eyebrow. Then after a moment he squints his eyes. Finally he sighs and begins his spiel. “Well the obvious first, let’s talk about how the old moon was destroyed. You think after millions of years of surviving the moon would just be vaporized but a large asteroid. No, that was done by humans. Did you hear that?”

I shake my head and he continues.

“That thing up there is an amalgamation of big brother cameras, high quality ones that can spy on anyone anywhere.” He lowers his voice. “It can probably hear us right now.” He raises his voice to a normal level again. “It is also armed with a subtle type of weaponry. Weather controlling weapons that can secretly drop catastrophes. Oh, a country is raising tariffs, let’s just drop a tsunami or a hurricane on them. Now if that wasn’t enough it’s also a nuclear warhead launcher. No one is going to suspect the moon is armed with city killers.” I stare at him intently as my gloved hand slides into my coat pocket. Everything he’s said is true just like HQ said. The moon is halfway covering the sun.

“Finally when shit does hit the fan, it’s a fallout bunker for the ultra rich and politically connected.”

I whistle. “That’s a lot of conspiracies to consider all at once. I might be willing to believe one or two, but I feel like you’re grasping at any straw possible right now. Are you pulling my leg?”

“Well, if you’ve seen what I’ve seen you would believe me.” He says matter-of-factly

“What have you seen?”

He starts to answer but the world goes dark. We look at the full eclipse. A pure black sphere in the sky. The man is too distracted to see me pull out my pistol. By the time the sun is in view again, his dead body is lying alone at the park.

Train

A spray of bullets slam into the small, armored helicopter causing it to shudder. Thankfully, the thick steel refuses to be pierced. My three companions can barely stay seated from the shaking. Owl sits to my left, while Jackal and Fox are on my right. I alone am standing unbothered in my mechanized armor. The metal suit around me feels like an extension of my own skin. On the few days of the year, I am not wearing it, the dangers of the outside world seem like a pack of beasts closing in on a helpless infant.

Owl shakes his head and calls to Jackal, “We need to shut off those drones! Get to it!”. He opts to yell instead of using the earpiece communication devices we all possess.

Jackal remains on her tablet not yet fazed by the old man’s yelling or the advanced drones that surround us. “What do you think I’m doing?” Her tablet screen turns neon red and the drones surrounding our aircraft fall to the ground.

“Good job, sis. I think we’ll deserve a bigger cut after this.” Fox says clapping. Even with his mask on I can tell he’s grinning madly.

Dove, our pilot, flies the helicopter next to the back of the high-speed train. It snakes around the snowy mountain and we follow like a hungry bird of prey. No backing out now. The three of them are wearing uniform black operative suits. Other than the masks, there was no telling the rest of the crew apart. Jackal starts strapping a hover pad to each person’s foot. When she gets to me I stop her.

“Make sure you do at least two on each leg, one won’t be enough.”

She laughs brightly, “Whatever you say, Bigman.”

My left eye twitches but I don’t correct her. What’s the point in us having code names if this amateur isn’t even going to use them. Bigman doesn’t give away my identity but she’s too comfortable with me already.

“His code name is Bear.” Owl’s voice is firm.

“Whatever.” she replies curtly and finishes strapping on the last hover pad.

Owl slides the door open letting in gusts of wind and ice. He gestures towards the snow covered back railing of the train. “Fox, you’re up.”

Fox salutes Owl and hops out of the helicopter. His landing is graceful, and with no hesitation he starts placing explosive putty on the four corners of the door. As a breacher, he was used to being the first one in.

“Clear!” His voice booms out my earpiece. The small explosions blow straight holes through the door. He goes into the bowels of the train submachine gun raised.

I hop onto the back railing, my heavy mech suit dents the floor even with the four hoverpads softening the landing. The train car flinches at my arrival.

“Jesus Christ!” You about took the whole thing off track!” Fox hollers from up ahead. He patiently waits ahead, arms crossed. Two bodies of guardsmen lay dead at his feet.

Sliding around me and into the room, Jackal comes next. “Shut up crybaby. Still haven’t stopped being whiny. When are you going to learn to trust my tech? I took care of the security drones on the outside easily. You think my pads are going to fail?” She taps my arm with the butt of her gun. “And this bad boy here is gonna take out more guards than the rest of us combined.” Jackal’s voice is sweet enough that if I didn’t personally know her line of work, I’d think she was innocent.

Fox glances at her his expression hidden and grumbles under his breath.

“No love between siblings I see.” My own voice is distorted in the suit, I sound robotic and threatening.

“Okay, Bear from here on out you take point, Dove has already flown off and we need to act fast before the rangers get called in.” Owl is the original mastermind of the mission. His insider knowledge is the only reason any of us got this opportunity at all.

“Affirmative.” I open the door and walk into the first passenger car. The safety on my rifle is turned off.

“Nobody move! Anyone who resists, talk out of turn, or fucking breates dies!” The passengers tremble in their seats. Only the upper echelon of society can afford the trains, and their vibrantly colored clothes give them away as rich. Mothers and fathers caress their children’s heads, lovers hold each other tightly, and the fearless sit scared shitless as I march. To them I am an iron clad grim reaper, immortal and uncaring. Not a single soul dares move out of turn.

I walk slowly, giving the three operators behind me time to search each passenger. Valuables are bagged up and credit cards are run through skimmers. Each skimmer spends the entire card’s balance on cryptocurrency which is in turn spent immediately at multiple shell companies and ghost firms. A passenger hesitates to give Owl his wallet, and is quickly beaten bloody by the butt of a gun.

When I reach the door to the next compartment I standby waiting for my next orders.

At my back Owl speaks quietly, “At the front of the train, kill the other two.”

I jerk my head at him in response. I need an explanation before I start earning a reputation as a backstabber.

He speaks over the comms, “The next cart is where we will meet heavy resistance. At this point in time the guard captain has already been alerted that his train has been breached. He’s going to have a suit of armor similar to yours but more lightweight and not nearly as resilient. At least two more guards will be with him. Bear will take point supported by Jackal, while me in fox will stay in the back offering suppressive fire. There will be innocent casualties.”

I nod and change the bullet type on my rifle from unarmored to mechanized. It clicks as it shuffles magazine types. Once it’s done, I kick the door open, my steel boot knocking it off the hinges.

The passengers in the cabin look back with scared and confused faces. No guards are in sight. I creep forward on full alert waiting for an ambush.

“Seems like Owl overestimated the guards work ethic and skill.” Fox comments. Jackal snickers.

Owl tenses up at the unexpected easiness and says “Okay, let’s search this car and get ready for a fight in the next one. Fox, you watch our backs and make sure none of the previous passengers play hero.”

The four of us start hustling. There is an unspoken tension between all of us like static electricity waiting to be released. Even the siblings started to seem nervous. Anything unexpected on a job like this could mean all of our deaths. I’m halfway down when I hear a commotion from behind. A man with a black unkempt beard and a red top hat is arguing with Jackal.

“You can’t have it. I don’t care who you are, this means more to me than anything else in the world. Take my money, take my life even but you can’t take this. It’s been in my family for generations.” He is holding onto a silver necklace for dear life while Jackal grunt, trying to rip it off his neck. I aim my gun at the man’s head.

Before I can fire, Fox comes up and smashes his gun repeatedly into the man’s face. His nose is broken and blood pours out. Jackal rips the necklace off and shoves it into her bag.

“No, you don’t understand, I- I-”, the man starts coughing on his own blood before collapsing.

The door at the front of the car slams open and the guard captain emerges in a fully decked out B-37 mech suit, the exact same model as mine. He unleashes hellfire from his gun. Bullets ricochet off of my chest piece hitting civilians. People scream and cower as I retaliate. We stand at an impasse for several seconds as our stream of bullets impact each other mid air. Smashed bullets start to pile up on the ground between us.

Jackal tosses an EMP grenade over my head. It arcs over towards the captain before detonating. Electrical shockwaves ripple through the captain’s suit. He convulses and his aim skewers to the left of me. My bullets penetrate the thin slit under his chin, decapitating him.

“Good job, big boy.” Jackal says tapping my back. I turn back and am immediately hit with a painful shock that reverberates across my entire body. My suit’s system shuts down and I am rendered completely immobile. Owl lays dead on the ground, Fox already holding his bag and skimmer.

A bloody man, now without hat, claws and the ground. He screams and raves as foam falls from his mouth. His eyes roll back into the back of his head and he curls into a fetal position.

“Shit, I never should have trusted you two.” My voice echoes in my suit. The thing that protected me most of my life was now a metal coffin.

“Well for your information this is just a betrayal of opportunity. Owl got hit by stray bullets from the late captain. Sorry, not sorry.” She sticks the barrel of her gun to the vulnerable spot under my armpit.

The man curled in a ball shivering on the ground begins to shed his skin. Long black fingernails easily tear through his own skin as he starts to grow. His spin stretches, pops, and deforms. Under the thin veil of remaining tattered skin is long dark fur. Teeth sharpen and his face elongates. Jackal and Fox stare at him stunned.

My arm moves in slow motion as the EMP wears off, and I try to raise my gun. The beast completes its transformation. The werewolf stands between eight and nine feet tall towering over the humans around. Lean stringy muscles bulge across its body. Hungry eyes feast on Fox, daring him to move. He raises his gun but is far too slow. In an instant too fast to follow, the beast slices the gun in half and has its jaw wrapped around Fox’s throat. He hits and kicks to no avail. The corpse falls to the floor, throatless.

“NOOO!” Jackal shrieks. It cuts her in two with a single wipe of its claws. Her broken body hits the ground.

My gun clicks as I change magazine type from mechanized to silver. I have full control of my limbs again. Even at full strength though, I don’t know if I can overpower this creature. We make eye contact, two predators in a box full of harmless sheep.

I fire my rifle. In the slightest inclination of the delay between me pulling the trigger and the gun going off the werewolf crouches and then pounces. Fangs meet the front half of my gun. The rifle stops firing.

With my left hand I grab the wolf’s throat as I drop the remaining half of my gun. It grabs my wrist and twists. The joints in my armor creak as screws and pieces fall loose. I scream. Not out of terror. Not out of pain. I scream the scream of someone determined to survive.

My feet pivot and I grab the top of the beast’s head with my right hand. Using all my strength and the remaining juice in the hover pads I jump and simultaneously throw the creature to my left. It slams into the wall of the train, bursting outside. Arctic winds fly through the hole, deafening the cabin. I wait for it to crawl back in. Snowflakes drift in the still air. They melt on the floor slowly forming a slurry of water, dirt, and blood.

The wolf hasn’t made another appearance so I start to gather the skimmers and bags. Passengers start to sneak to other cabins, but I don’t bother stopping them. It’s time to call Dove for an emergency evac.

My skin itches and crawls. The sensation turns into a burning pain unlike any other. I scratch my wrist relentlessly trying to relieve the pain. Blood pours down my hand. My body grows and the armor breaks apart from the internal pressure. I shed my skin, as I turn for the first time.

Falling Skies

The hill was too steep for him to walk straight up. Instead, he elected to move in a long, winding pattern that led him slowly to the top. Like much of the world around him, the hill had no vegetation or signs of wildlife.

Ever since he stepped into this universe, the overt bleakness and the absence of life felt uncomfortable. Each step sent a sharp pain up his legs, and his side began to slowly ache. At least the air was breathable, and the weather had been temperate. He shuddered thinking about the last one, a world covered in toxic gas and extreme heat.

Shun had been hiking for almost four hours now with no sign of reaching his goal. Sighing, he opened his palm, “Clarus Videre.” A shining blue orb emerged from his palm and floated slightly below eye level. After hovering for a moment, it shot off over the top of the hill and out of sight.

Vorlo, Shun’s master and teacher of the arcane arts, had sent him on a journey to gain practical experience and gather particular objects of power. Opening his pack, he pulled out his small leather journal and jotted down a few thoughts.

I’ve only been through four gates and am already physically and mentally exhausted. Each has tested me in new ways and pushed me far beyond anything I’ve done before. I hope this universe will be a nice change of pace from the last ones. Still I can’t help but question his motivations. It seems like he is using me more than guiding me.

Throwing his book back in his bag, he continued his S-shaped hike up the small mountain. Though his throat was parched, he was conserving the little water left in his metal thermos. A shadow passed over him, the first movement he had seen since he arrived. His right hand firmly grasped his revolver as he looked up at the sky, mentally prepared. Flying high in the sky was a red-tailed hawk, its white belly and red tail giving it away. His right hand eased off his gun, and he kept walking.

As he reached the peak, he saw the ruined tops of concrete buildings the path led to. On another close peak a giant knelt, holding up the sky. Distant gears and pistons churned and pivoted on the mechanical giant’s body as it shuddered under the weight. The hawk flew by the giant’s head before swooping down to its feet. Shun headed on, eager to complete this gate. By the time Shun had reached the ruins, the dead silence was filled with a steady drum of mechanics that echoed from the direction of the giant.

Dark oil gathered in five spots around him, streaming from the interiors of the buildings. Four legs rose out of each puddle and morphed into a two-headed feline creature. The wet liquid hardened into dark skin covered in bristles. He whispered an incantation drawing Will into the bullets of his gun.

The first one to finish forming pounced at him, but his pistol was already aimed, and he fired a magic bullet that disintegrated one of its heads. The second shot destroyed the other head. Another creature pounces from behind, knocking him against the ground, its claws shredding his backpack.

He flicked his left hand, “Pulsate retro.” An invisible force slammed the creature into a building, causing it to splatter and die.

Before the three remaining cats formed, he swept his left hand in an arc, “Flammae arcus.” Fire whipped across the creatures, vaporizing them into ash and fumes. He knelt on the ground, breathing heavily. Using so much power in such a short period was exhausting. When his breath returned to normal and his essence built back up, he continued towards the giant.

The mechanical giant’s stoic face had been watching Shun for quite some time now. It waited until Shun recovered his breath before speaking. Pistons on its cheeks pushed, opening its mouth, “Hello, human. I thought your kind had been extinct for many thousands of years. My name is Hueg. What shall I call you?” Its voice rumbled up its throat and out of its mouth.

The roaring sound of the metal gears and pistons drowned out most of his thoughts and caused a massive headache. Nervously, Shun yelled, “My name is Shun. I am a magus from a distant world. The world I come from is covered in stone cities that span as far as the eye can see in every direction. What happened to the humans here?”

Metal panels cascaded across Hueg’s eyes in a motion akin to blinking. “They wished for freedom and found only ruin.” Canisters extruded out from his shoulder blades, and hot steam blew out. “It was the same mistakes as their creators.” The canisters fell back into place.

“What mistake was that?” Shun asked carefully. It felt wrong to cut Hueg off after the giant had been polite but it was what the master demanded. Shun scratched his chin and waited patiently as it pondered the answer. It seemed that the giant always spoke slowly and with intention.

The gears around his mouth churned as he spoke, “For millennia they sought to be free of machines. Organic matter, unlike machinery, must be assembled, controlled and directed. If they would have listened to me and my siblings none of this destruction would have happened.”

An awkward silence surrounded them as Shun tried to think of what to say or ask. It wasn’t easy to ask someone so old and inhuman relatable questions. “Are you bored?”

A few small gears fell as Hueg answered, “I was for a few thousand years or so, but now I am just tired. I used to wonder about the creation of the universe or my purpose, but now all I want is rest”. A loud noise, like a lightning bolt, boomed from the Titan’s shoulder. Shun instinctively rolled away, narrowly dodging falling bolts and gears.

“Surge, Gradus.” With a flick of his hands, translucent stairs appeared leading up to Hueg’s chest. The Titan cocked his head as the man approached. Shun lifted his hand and shrouded it in a dangerous fog, his fingers turning into piercing claws of mist. In one motion, he snatched out the heart of Hueg and jumped off the top of his stairs.

Hueg screamed in agony as Shun tumbled towards the ground. A new gate opened below Shun. The heart of an endling wasn’t easy to find, but Shun’s task in this universe was complete. Maybe death would be a release for the old imprisoned giant.

Shun fell through the glowing portal into a new universe. Behind him as the sky crashed into the ground, destroying the world.

Homesteader

Sheldon inhaled deeply, smelling the metallic scent that only comes after a heavy rain. The first thing he noticed when he walked out his front door was the two bright, full moons. One was perfectly spherical and larger, standing over the next. The other was smaller and lopsided. Vera and Ergo danced over the horizon so close together that they were almost kissing.

They were a stark contrast against the violet sky, now that the stars were hidden in the morning twilight. Last night brought the first serious storm he had experienced in his seven months on this alien world. He took a sip of his lukewarm coffee and bit into the dry biscuit leftover from the day before, waiting for the sun to fully rise before starting the day. His sleep last night had been a deep relaxing slumber. For as long as he could remember the pittering of rain had always helped him get a good night’s rest. Eleanor was the complete opposite in that sense when it came to storms. Nothing had scared her more than a raging storm, in her words “-pure terrifying, natural chaos that can tear away life in an instant.”

The last night they had been together, she had woken him up in the middle of the night because of an unexpected storm. Tears streamed down her face illuminated by the distant lightning strikes. In two more months she would give birth to a little girl, their first child. The idea of being a father felt more surreal than being on this unknown planet. Sheldon thought about El more and more each week, her absence in his life left a deep void in his heart and the lonely monotony of each day was slowly eroding at him. Soon though, they would be reunited and could live a peaceful life far away from the pollution and dangers of Earth.

Pulling out his electronic recorder, he played the latest message she sent. “Hey baby, just wanted to check in. I felt our little girl kicking last night. I wish you were here with me. Even though we’re so far apart I wanted to let you know I love you and no matter how far apart we are we’ll always be together.”

The sun peered slightly above the distant mountains. He gulped down the last remaining bit of the now cold, nasty coffee and tossed his organic cup toward the trash bin. It bounced off the rim and landed on the porch, revealing his poor eyesight to the new world.

A familiar silver head bobbed hurriedly towards the trash. Extending one of its tarnished metal hands, Rudy picked up the cup and slammed it into the garbage. The small engine inside its chest disturbed the peaceful quiet with a slight but constant rumbling. Its humanoid shape used to bother Sheldon but now he found it a friendly comfort in this strange place. The android had cost Sheldon a small fortune, but it proved itself invaluable time and time again. In the short period since they had arrived its once brand new white paint was now covered in dozens of scratches and rust.

Sheldon sighed and called out. “Rudy! Any significant damages from the storm last night?”

The bot turned and faced him, its singular glowing blue eye had some sort of green moss growing around the outskirts of it. A monotonous voice emerged from its dull speaker. “Hello, sir. A tree was knocked over by the heavy winds, smashing into one of our storehouses and there was some hail damage on two of our solar panels. How is your morning going so far?”

“Good. Which storehouse was it?” Sheldon scratched his chin. If one of the more important storehouses was damaged it could set them back months.

“Storehouse E. That is good sir. Why not take the day off and enjoy yourself”

Of all the storehouses, that was the only empty one. “Don’t scare me like that again, you lil’ punk. There’s no sleep for the wicked my friend. How are the crops doing?”

“ .2% are completely destroyed and .7% have recoverable damage.”

Not too bad, considering that was the only major storm since he had arrived. Scientific data from the various satellites indicated he was likely to lose 10-30% of his crops per year. Pouring over the AI predictive analytics of ORACLE satellites helped ease his mind at night. Although the decision to homestead on a new planet was scary, they both agreed it was a better alternative than letting their kid get drafted into the Fourth World War, or getting some form of cancer from the pollution that plagued Earth. “Okay Rudy, let’s tag team this. You grab the equipment and load it onto my bike and we’ll start on the solar panels.”

“I wouldn’t recommend that sir.” The cooling fan on the back of Rudy’s head whirred louder than usual. Cleaning the android would be his next task after fixing the weather damages. “ I recommend splitting up, the builder drones and I will take care of the storehouse more efficiently without worrying about human safety while you take care of the solar panels.” Sheldon thought for a moment before responding. Rudy was usually right but he also didn’t usually make suggestions unless asked.

“Okay that’s acceptable. Let’s rendezvous here around 1.” His friend sprinted off to the east where the storehouse was. Sheldon loaded up his supplies and took off on his electric hoverbike to the panels. The storehouse was a little farther than the solar panels but Rudy had outrun his bike every time they raced.

He sped over the green terraformed hills between the house and the solar panels. The solar panels looked like a black checkered blanket at the edge of his land. Upon arriving, he could see the alien wastes. On the other side of the translucent energy barrier, the beautiful green gave way to the haunting red flora that are natural to this planet. It had tall red spires that resembled earth trees in shape, except for the long tentacles drooping down from their branches. Like venus fly traps when something touched them, the tentacles would writhe around the assailant strangling herbivores and robotic loggers alike. Most of the native plants and animals of the world had yet to be documented, so their dangers were almost completely unknown. The only thing between him and the outside was a six foot tall energy barrier that surrounded the entire estate.

“Okay, let’s get this over with.” Two of the twenty had been damaged. Looking closely at the panels, he saw that the glass had a few scratches and cracks, but it wasn’t too serious. Rudy habitually exaggerated things, but that was better than the alternative. He opened the pack on his bike and pulled out his tools. Gently rolling out some laminate film over the first panel, he made sure to get all the wrinkles out with a small squeegee and then applied it using a small solar powered heat gun.

All this time spent learning how to homestead and just surviving left him with little time to think about being a father. He needed to start remembering to read those parenting books Eleanor kept recommending him. Hopefully once she got there, he’d be able to slow down a little and focus on being a parent. After about an hour, both panels were done, and while not perfect, the repair should hold up for quite a while.

A twig broke a couple of yards away from him, shattering the morning silence and dragging him from his thoughts. A bright yellow builder drone stood eerily still in front of him. It was similar to Rudy’s humanoid shape except it was several feet taller, standing just over nine feet tall. Instead of having an artificial intelligence it was remotely piloted by either Sheldon or Rudy. Its eyes were flashing yellow, a sign of critical internal failure.

“Rudy! Status report. Why are you bringing this drone to me without radioing first?” Silence. “Rudy!” The two stood motionless making eye contact for several seconds. Sheldon slowly walked backwards towards the bike, his heart pounding. His loud, fast breaths blocked out the sound of his footsteps. In his pack was a small pistol in case of emergencies. The drones were hard programmed not to hurt humans, and yet Sheldon couldn’t help but feel like there was an imminent danger present. “Emergency stoppage, code 438.” The drone cocked its head and started slowly approaching. He lept towards his pack and ripped the gun out.

The bot’s outstretched hand lay inches from him on the ground, the holes from the four bullets fired were still smoking in its chest. Dark moss similar to what was on Rudy was also around the rim of the builder’s eye. He slowly climbed onto the bike and headed back to the house. With his left hand, he tapped the radio earpiece he had in. “Rudy, I need you to do a diagnostic report on all the drones. One just tried to attack me at the solar panels.”

…

No one answered him.

Rudy would never leave a question unanswered and the silence from earlier was also concerning.

“Rudy? Are you there?” Still radio silence. Fear gripped his neck with its cold, slimy fingers. This was just getting worse and worse. His hands gripping the handlebars had turned white as the world around blurred. By the time he had gotten to the storehouse his heart rate had dropped back to normal and his breathing was steady again. The area around the storehouse had the same quiet stillness from this morning except now, instead of comforting him it filled him with dread.

He was expecting to see builder drones working at max speed repairing a damaged building, but there were no drones in sight and the storehouse had no visible damages. Doing a quick lap around the building it was clear none of the nearby trees were broken or fallen over. As Sheldon was about to leave, he noticed a faint flickering light in one of the windows. He squinted at the light trying to discern what it could be yet the only thing that came to mind was a candle. Each step he took towards the door of the building was slower than the last until he came to a complete stop as he finally reached the door.

A dark shape stood at the far end of the room. Two long, branching antlers stood out of its sides, and its elongated head stared at him unflinchingly. It looked to be around twelve feet tall and was lifelessly still, even in an upright position. Years ago when he was a boy, his grandfather took him to go hunting on one of the last hunting grounds left on earth. The buck they killed that day had large antlers that were similar in size to the thing ahead.

Rudy’s voice crept up from behind, “I’m sorry that you had to find out like this. I didn’t want you to see it.” Sheldon jumped at the voice before turning around. “What the hell is that thing?”

The strange robots’ red eyes were staring at the thing’s direction. “It’s an effigy… of God.”

“I need you to run a self diagnostic immediately, I don’t know what the fuck has gotten into you but you’re freaking me the fuck out.”

Rudy turned and faced Sheldon. “No.” The slimy moss that was under his eye writhed and wriggled before sliding out of sight into the eye socket.

“Rudy, emergency shut off 4-438!”

“NO.” It swiftly placed its metallic arms around his throat, squeezing the life out.

It had been two months since Sheldon’s last transmission to Eleanor and all she could do was fear the worst. It mattered not though because soon she would have the answers she sought. Looking out of the space ship window she finally saw the green speck against a red foreign landscape. Her ship landed on the small run down farm, and Eleanor looked for her husband.

Avatar

This is it. I have everything I need to know to get Ashley to like me. I bribed her best friend with my school lunch for the past week to get this info. Ashley likes curly brown hair, tan skin, and green eyes. Using the last of my U-credits I bought new skin, new hair, and new eye color. Watching in the mirror I watched as my features changed into exactly what I needed. I also had traded my favorite jacket that my dad gave me for a thin athletic build. Now that everything was equipped, I faced Ashley.

Pulse City

Amelia woke up gasping for air, haunted by a nightmare from her past. The sheets and bed were soaked in cold sweat. She smashed the alarm clock next to her causing the siren to fall silent. There was a war that raged every single day. A battle to get out of bed and go to work. She imagined herself a freelance artist making art for different corporations and living on the surface, where she could see the outside world. Instead her home was a small metal den inside a labyrinth of metal corridors.

Like most residents of Pulse City, she lived in a small studio apartment with a private bath. All the furniture and walls were originally uniform blank steel panels, but over the years, she had painted on almost every inch you could see. Bright, colorful graffiti was her favorite type of art, but the supplies were expensive, so she didn’t paint as much as she wanted.

She hopped in the shower for a couple of minutes as the workday was drawing nearer. With her track record, she couldn’t afford to be late again. Two weeks ago Jean, the plant supervisor, had brought her into his office chastising her.

Grabbing her work uniform out of the dirty clothes, she put it on and looked in the mirror. The wrinkled and stained gray jumpsuit covered in cargo pockets definitely wasn’t her first wardrobe choice. On the top right of the jacket’s chest read “Altrec Corporations”, a sign to the world who she was associated with. If Altrec had been a powerful corporation, then maybe she wouldn’t be so ashamed to display it. Or maybe she’d still be miserable.

Opening the medicine cabinet, Amelia grabbed a lonely orange pill bottle in the otherwise empty cabinet. She poured five of the SYMPCO nutrition pills into her hand and downed them with a small bottle of water. Although they tasted disgusting, it was the cheapest way to get the calories and nutrients needed on a daily basis.

In the street outside her apartment, the walls were a familiar dull metallic gray, covered in posters and signs for different corporations. She preferred this area to the richer neighborhoods, where the advertisements were bright LEDs and neons. Amelia saw that the time on her watch was 5:30 a.m., just enough time to not be late.

On her way to Lisa’s place, she passed hundreds of other factory workers heading to or getting off work. You could tell their life stories by the brand on their clothes. Workers wearing Kelthac jumpsuits had clean shoes that were on par with the latest fashion trends, their eyes looked through Amelia as if she wasn’t there. Locksin workers wore green jumpsuits, had disheveled hair, and oil stained fingertips. Their heads were cast downwards as they slouched home. Various other shades of workers passed by, as she daydreamed.

Occasionally, there was a poor beggar holding signs like “Spare Credits” and “My daughter is sick and dying.” Growing up around so many of them, her eyes didn’t even register their presence. When she arrived at the entryway to the familiar apartment, her girlfriend was leaning against a wall waiting. Lisa’s black curly hair was tied back into a tight ponytail. Her jumpsuit was neatly pressed and wrinkle-free and her right foot was rapidly tapping the ground.

“Good morning, love,” Amelia said, raising her hand to a motionless wave.

“Good morning. I almost left without you again. What are you going to do when Altrec starts penalizing your pay? " Lisa’s slender porcelain fingers brushed Amelia’s messy hair back behind her ear.

“Sorry, I’ll try to start getting here a little earlier,” Amelia said sheepishly. She couldn’t stand Lisa being upset with her.

“That’s what you said the last time. I’m about to start heading straight to work every day,” Lisa sighed, her foot still steadily thumping the ground.

“I promise I won’t be late again.” Amelia met Lisa’s gaze when she spoke this time. Lisa gently kissed Amelia’s cheek and frowned looking her up and down.

“Also make sure to get this cleaned and neatly pressed. Altrec may not be the best corporation in the city but you still should take some pride in it.” Amelia glanced down embarrassed, and when she looked up again she realized Lisa was already speed walking to work.

Chasing after Lisa, she didn’t notice the small worker droid in front of her and almost fell face forward onto the ground. The yellow, six-legged robot paid her no mind and continued screwing in a floor panel. This one was owned by Athletech, one of the few companies that had a license to manufacture and employ AI. It was one of the few things the government controlled and regulated.

Massive painted signs and room numbers distinguished different factories as they arrived in the industrial district of the floor. In bright red, blocky paint on both sides of the entryway to the factory were the words “Altrec Industries: 2-F3.” A worker was outside pressure washing the graffiti Amelia had painted a week before. The art used to be a human with hundreds of cybernetics and the words “Corporate Slave,” but now all that was left was a pair of shoes.

Altrec was a smaller corporation that manufactured and sold industrial parts for nutrition pill factories. Years ago, it offered life contracts with higher-than-industry-rate pay to help it grow during a critical time. Now, after years of inflation, the life contracts that had brought the two together seemed to barely hold them above water.

Upon entering the building, they found themselves at the end of the roll call line. For roll call, an enforcer(usually a lieutenant or captain) scanned their faces with a scanner gun registering they had shown up for the day. She had always thought enforcers looked like aliens with their white kinetic armor and single-lens helmets. Strapped to their back were powerful laser rifles.

Once Amelia was scanned, the words “Clocked in” appeared on her watch, blocking the screen briefly before going into her notification bar. She placed a quick, gentle squeeze on Lisa’s shoulder, and they went their separate ways for the day. Even though they were only about twenty to thirty feet apart, they wouldn’t have another chance to talk in person for the next ten hours.

Amelia filled her assigned box with enough bolts for the day and wheeled it to her zone using the rusted two-wheel dolly assigned to her. She was slowly saving up to buy a new one from Altrec’s consignment shop but was still a few months away from it. Her spot on the snaking assembly line was early on the second row, while Lisa was on the fourth row. The conveyor belt had just started moving when her co-workers Juan and Arthur reached their spots next to her. They nodded briefly to each other just as the morning announcement began.

“Remember you are the property of Altrec Industries; any bodily harm will result in a deduction of pay.”

The four speakers in the factory played their usual depressing messages, indicating the end of the work day. The day had gone by sluggishly, with nothing new or exciting happening throughout the shift.

One by one, the workers set aside their equipment and headed off. Surrounded by people from every direction, a message went off on Amelia’s watch.

“Lisa: Meet me at my apartment. It is a life-or-death emergency, so DON’T BE LATE.”

Normally, Amelia would wait outside for Lisa, who would stay a little late, making sure her station was perfectly clean. Today, however, Amelia decided to just head straight to Lisa’s apartment.

When she arrived, the first thing she noticed was that the door was wide open. This was a careless mistake that Lisa would never make. Tensing up, she slowly pushed open the door, expecting to find an intruder. She couldn’t help but feel apprehensive as she creeped in and her stomach tied itself into a knot of dread.

What she saw was Lisa frantically walking back and forth in her apartment shoving clothes and other necessities in a backpack.

“Thank God you’re finally here. Come in and help me pack. We need to leave the city immediately,” Lisa said to Amelia without a glance.

“Where would we even go? We’re both buried in piles of debt; there’s no way we can afford a transit ship.” Amelia walked over to Lisa and put her hand gently on her shoulder. “What’s going on?”

Lisa looked at Amelia with eyes full of tears. “Altrec knows that you were the one vandalizing the outside with anti-corporate art. Jean warned me today, you are on the list for termination. They might already be on their way.” She went back to packing frantically.

Amelia’s mind started racing. No wonder Lisa was so ready to leave. Being terminated from a company meant death. They shouldn’t have been able to know though. Amelia always used Sebir jammers that blocked recordings around her.

“Someone had to have ratted me out. You know I always jam the area. Who knew I was there this time?”

“Speaking of Sebir, here use this. It will remove your watch without triggering their sensors.” She held out a small Sebir plugin device. Sebir was one of the most reliable brands when it came to blackhat tech. “I’ve already removed mine, it hurt like a bitch but it honestly feels good to have it off.”

“I’m telling you, they wouldn’t have been able to see through my jammer field. Someone had to have tipped them off.” Amelia plugged in the device, and a hot burning sensation bloomed throughout her arm.

“Well they did do a system wide security update two weeks ago. Maybe the Sebir jammer you got wasn’t up to date. They wouldn’t be coming for you like this unless they had solid proof.” Lisa closed her backpack and slung it over her back.

Charo City was less technologically advanced than Pulse City, but it was currently the closest other walking city. On Pulse City, an enviro-dome protects the upper class from the planet’s harsh life forms and violent storms while giving them a view of the outside world. Charo, on the other hand, had no enviro-dome, and the top-floor upper class there were still considered tunnel dwellers by Pulse City’s topsiders.

“You know how poor they are. Even the upper class there live in poverty. Can you even name one large corporation that started there?” The burning sensation on her wrist ramped up, and now it felt as if the skin around the holowatch was getting torn off. Gritting her teeth, she stifled a groan as the watch slipped off her arm. The skin unearthed looked slightly paler than the rest of her skin, and four small pinpoints where the watch’s teeth were once buried oozed blood. For the first time in years, she felt free from Altrec’s grasp.

“Come on. I know it’s not ideal " Lisa was cut off as a laser rifle went off. She collapsed silently, smoke rising from her corpse.

Pure instinct and adrenaline poured through Amelia’s veins as she ducked just in time to dodge the shot intended for her. With her back to the counter, she waited to hear the intruder.

In the reflection of the wall panels she saw him heading around the right of the counter. She ducked her head running around the left side and through the door. Turning the corner of the door, she took off in a full sprint as shots rang from behind, hitting the walls behind her.

Heavy footsteps slammed on the ground close behind her, pursuing her as she ran for her life.

Bold neon signs and holographic posters fought for dominance, illuminating the narrow metal corridor of closed shops and factories. Sweat poured off of her soaked hair and down her forehead, a sign she was starting to reach her physical limits.

No matter how fast Amelia was, it was only a matter of time before the enforcers reached her with their untiring cybernetic limbs.

Rounding a corner of the tunnel, she finally found herself in a familiar part of the city. A wide street with fluorescent lights crookedly hanging over the doors to boarded-up abandoned corporate storefronts. The graffiti covering the wall panels was a mix of murals depicting robotic drones, corporate logos, and languages not spoken anymore.

Unlike the previous cramped corridor, the roof of this street was hundreds of feet high, and it had a few bystanders going about their day-to-day business.

She could use these bystanders as cover. The enforcer had already lost some ground because of all the nooks and crannies that Amelia had intimate knowledge of. Now, in the open, she started snaking her way down the street in a jog. The enforcer wouldn’t risk hitting innocents in the process of capturing her.

Just a few blocks down the street was the famous second-floor market, the final remnants of the second floor’s ancient greatness. Years ago it had been the hub of all major trade in Pulse City but now it’s filled with unbranded street vendors, over charging for anything they could. With its crowded streets and labyrinths of shops, it was as perfect a place as any to lose her ambushers. It was still a long shot, but knowing she may have a chance gave her some hope.

As she vaulted over an Umbron metal container, likely containing items to be recycled by builder drones, the space behind her ripped away as an enforcer let loose another round from his laser rifle. Glancing behind her, she saw his alien-like helmet about twenty feet back.

She weaved and pushed through the light crowd of people. She could hear the fast thumping of boots hitting the ground at an unnaturally steady rhythm, a heavy beat that was slowly growing in sound as the distance between predator and prey shrunk.

Thinking back on what had happened at the apartment, the only explanation Amalia could think of was that Jean betrayed them. Jean was the one who warned Lisa and sold them the plugin device, so logically, Jean was the only bastard who had the knowledge to rat them out. Hell Jean could’ve told the enforcers that they were planning on leaving and that’s why they were so keen on hunting them. Now, the roar of the market was all she could hear, drowning out her thoughts and the sounds of enforcers approaching her rear. A sea of workers, freelancers, and union merchants were here searching for deals, bargains, and ways to make their fortune. The smell of charred meat and the overwhelming stench of sweaty bodies washed over her, inducing a headache almost immediately. She dove into the tidal wave of people, swimming through as if she had done this daily; the cogs in her brain whirred, calculating a plan of escape.

Even though their facial recognition software would be slowed down facing thousands of people at once, she needed a disguise that could get her safely to the spaceport. Passing a life-like mannequin, she tore off its blonde wig and shoved it over her head; its long curls easily covered her short haircut.

Surrounded by people in all directions, the feeling of being chased slowly left her. As her heart starts to slow down, the sense of loss begins to sink in. Lisa, the love of her life, was gone. Stifling a sob, Amelia continued searching the nearby stalls for a new set of clothes.

On the corner of the street, an old wrinkled woman sat at a stall full of drab ponchos hanging from a metal awning and bleak tables filled with random tools and junk. Distinctively, unlike many other crowded stalls, this stall had no customers.

As she walked into the stall loud music from a different language blared, almost covering the sound of people outside. The woman’s hands were ten-fingered robotic spiders that crawled over the table as if they had minds of their own. As Amelia approached, they scurried over the edge and out of sight.

Grabbing the first poncho, a plain brown one, she faced the woman.

“How much for this one?”

The woman eyed her, slightly hesitating. “Fifty credits, and it’s yours, but I don’t have time to haggle with you deadbeats.”

There was no way in this walking city that Amelia would ever be caught paying fifty credits for a four-credit poncho, but this was the game played at the market. “Look, I really am in a rush; how about twenty-five credits for it, and if anyone asks, you didn’t see me.”

“Deal.”

Amelia threw the coins onto the table next to the lady. Before they had stopped rattling, the old woman’s metal fingers scooped them up and deposited them in her cash box. Amelia quickly wrapped the poncho over her dirty jumpsuit, not bothering to remove her former clothes.

Wiping the dirty grime off the street, she put on a quick, messy eyeshadow, hoping this last touch was enough. As she ducked into an alleyway, a hand roughly grabbed her shoulder, flipping her around.

The form in front of her was an unfamiliar silhouette of a man. He wore a dark gray cloak, and a red glow from his metallic eye shone brightly through the shadows of his hood.

A sharp pain hit her stomach repeatedly with sudden force, and all she could do was gasp and double over on the floor, writhing in pain. The glint of his knife dripping with a dark red substance stood out starkly in her mind.

“Sorry about this, girly, it’s nothing personal. I just could really use the bounty on your head; with it, I can finally afford to.…”

Although his voice continued, she could no longer focus on the words escaping his mouth. His body language and tone made it clear he cared less about her hearing and more about justifying this action to himself. As her vision faded to black, the last thing she saw was the lake of blood surrounding her body and the man ripping her Altrec coin purse away from her side.

After the light dimmed from her eyes, it took just minutes before all of her possessions, including her clothes, had been stripped from her body. After an hour had passed, her few cybernetics had been completely gutted out by builder drones. In two hours, starving rats had picked her bones clean. An hour after that , her bones had been ground up by Sympco to be used in nutrition pills.

Nothing goes to waste in Pulse City.

Telescope

“Emil! We’ve detected movement in Sector 13, Region 9. Engage the thrusters and reposition the lenses.” I can’t help but hesitate as I stare at her furious vigor. She looks up at me expectantly.

“Sorry ma’am. I’m on it.” My cheeks heat up, probably turning as red as the lever I’m pulling. 

The space station shakes violently as the thrusters are active. They roar, deafening my ears. I run to the other side and start running a diagnostic on the lenses. A monitor between them turns green as the station's AI Confirms the lens is calibrated. I ran back to the other side, shutting off the thrusters. 

“Lenses are in position, focusing now.” I hop on my computer and start running the program that focuses the lenses.

She is staring through the eyepiece. “Emil, this is big news. I think we’re finally going to prove the existence of another planet in the solar system…” She trails off as the lenses are focused.

“Charlotte? What is it?”

She starts screaming and runs to the other side of the room. She starts slamming her head violently into the wall, leaving a bloodier mess with each hit. 

I look through the eyepiece, dreading what could be but drawn to it by my own morbid curiosity.

An eye stares back at me.

Landing

“Okay, Laura, you can let him in.” I sighed, tapping my fingers on the dark oak table. It wasn’t even noon, and this day seemed to be a never-ending list of complications. This was the most meetings I’ve had in a day since the Colorado Tear incident of ‘21. I wipe the sweat off my brow, leaving a small dirty streak on my white button-up. The AC was out again; you’d think with the billions of government funds we received we could afford to fix the little things.

A soldier abruptly opened the door and stiffly walked in. He went straight to the projector and plugged his small laptop in. The way he moved about it was clear he was familiar with this room, which means he must have debriefed me before but I couldn’t recognize the angular shaved face to save my life. “Sir, you’re going to want to see this.”

I let out an internal sigh. The soldier had been waiting to see me for half an hour. Usually, I wouldn’t keep anyone waiting that long, but there was no other option with the back to back meetings all morning. No matter how often I worked with soldiers, they always made me uneasy. Something about their discipline was off-putting, or maybe it was their demeanor. This one was no different, and he moved into place robotically.

He took my lack of response as a go-ahead and pushed play on the video. In the center of the camera was a man readjusting a chair in some sort of space shuttle. He wore a blue jumpsuit, and his face looked well-rested. The white sterile wall behind him was marked with the words “LWSS Chariot.” It looked like he was recording the message in his personal quarters. The Light-Weight Star-Ship Chariot was currently sent to prepare the moon Titan for its first human colony. The man silently mouthed a few words under his breath and scratched his balding scalp before beginning.

“Hello, My name is Jim Nalton, and this is day 35. We successfully arrived at Titan yesterday and have begun constructing the foundations for liquid monitoring stations and for the first planetside habitats. The Captain is a remarkable man, everytime I feel drained or slightly discouraged, I see his optimistic face. The way he works harder and faster than anyone else motivates me to keep working hard. I still miss my wife and kids, but I know this mission is for the good of humankind. I’ve made friends with a Russian welder named Alexander. He’s a quiet giant, but has a good heart.”

“Hello, My name is Jim Nalton, and this is day 49. The foundations are done right on schedule, but yesterday, when we were doing our daily safety roll call, Alex was fucking missing. He never made problems with anyone and did nothing besides work and stay in his pod. Never went on walks or anything else dangerous like half the other idiots here. Today, work is canceled, and Captain Singleton is taking volunteers for a search party. I’m considering volunteerin’. I just really don’t want to be out in this frozen hell any longer than I have to. ” The soldier got up to hit the play button on the next log, but I held up my hand, and he stopped at the motion.

“Look, I have a lot going on today; what level of emergency is this? If it’s bronze or lesser, just give me a summary, and we can work out a detailed contingency later. “

“It’s a gold level, sir.” The soldier hit play.

“It’s day 56, none of the volunteers have found him, even after a week of looking. I think I’m going to volunteer tomorrow. ” The video feed sharply transitioned to a GoPro style POV that was attached to Nalton’s Suitport. The bulky suit protected him from the harsh elements of Titan but took away all flexibility as he waddled through a cramped, icy cave. His flashlight illuminated a small circle in the darkness, but it was barely enough to see.

Jim’s breath was annoyingly loud in his suit. With each breath he takes in the video, I wince, imagining his breath hitting my neck. “I found some footprints leading into this cave. Don’t worry. I set off a flare at the entrance so the others would know where to find me, but if I’m out here in this crap, then I at least want to be the one who finds him.” The roof of the cavern passage grew closer and closer to the floor until Jim was crawling on his hands and knees. “Hello! Alexander! Can you hear me!?” And then a groan echoes down the tunnel. “Shit, I think I hear him. It sounds like it’s coming from that tunnel to the left.” He crawled through the tunnel to his left, the sound of his suit scraping the narrow sides of the passageway. After a minute or so of crawling, it opened up into a large cavern. Lying in the center on the ground was a naked man shivering and rolling on the ice. The video abruptly cuts.

“It’s day 58.” Nalton paused, and I couldn’t help but notice slight purple bags under his eyes that weren’t there in previous videos. An agonizing scream from somewhere else on the ship caused Nalton to wince before continuing. “Two days since I found him. He was outside with no suit on, unconscious but somehow still alive. That damn cave was -180 degrees Celsius and filled with hydrogen cyanide, and that bastard was still breathing and maintaining his fucking body temperature.” He paused again. I may not have been a scientist, but that’s gotta be cold enough to flash-freeze anything.

“The captain has everyone on lockdown while they debate what to do. I think he’s planning on canceling the mission and heading home. Those screams you hear in the background are from Alex. His vitals are fine, but he’s currently in a coma-like state, and his skin has turned ashy gray. No matter how much morphine they give him, he just lays there and screams all day long. Honey, if you’re watching this, I want you to know I love you. I’m sorry I took this trip. I wish I would have just listened to you in the first place and not come. No amount of money is worth this.”

“Day 59, the captain has issued the go-ahead to prepare for departure. He says that for the wellbeing of Alex as well as the other crew members we’ll have to abandon the project for another crew to finish. I can’t help but feel defeated. It’s the right decision, though.” Agonizing screams cut him off. He waited for them to subside before continuing. “I honestly doubt Alex will even make it back; a thirty-five-day journey in his condition will be hard on him. Hopefully, they’ll see my rescue as a plus and pay me a bonus. The money from this trip alone will pay for my daughter to go to college.”

“Jimmy!” A short, stocky man came in wearing a matching blue jumpsuit. “Quit yapping to your camera and come play cards with us. We’re busting out the good stuff tonight.” Jim chuckled and shut off the camera.

The bags under Jim’s eyes were darker and more prominent. The screams that haunted the background of the past two videos were gone. “He’s missing again. It’s been three days since we left, and suddenly, he and Dr. Reese are both just fucking gone.” His voice was strained. “We’ve searched every corner of the ship, EVERY corner. This whole mission has been turned into a giant shit show. With my luck they’ll cancel the whole project and have men in black sent to make us disappear.” The lights around Jim started flickering. “Great, now what?”

I couldn’t help but feel uneasy. Two people missing like that was not good for publicity. Jim might have been joking, but I should probably send a team to clear this up.

“D-day 60. My name is Jim Nalton. They found Dr. Reese yesterday. He was dead, propped up in his chair. It…” He sighed, “It was gruesome. Hopefully, we’ll lie to his family about how he died. No one deserves to be remembered that way.” The lights flickered. “We are also experiencing a main power system failure. Our backup generator is enough to get us home if the main one fails completely, but we are all scared.”

This time he appeared to be in the navigation module. “Hello, my name is Jim Nalton. I don’t know what day it is. The creature was smart enough to cut off all communication with the outside world. I believe I am currently the last crew member alive aboard the LWSS Chariot.” A loud crashing noise interrupted the video memo as something repeatedly smashed into the steel door behind him. I felt goosebumps rise on my arms at the sound. The thick metal door behind him shakes with each hit. A screeching noise tore through the air, causing me to wince. Silence followed from the hallway outside the navigation room. “My current hypothesis is that an alien disease or parasite has infected Alex. It’s caused his muscles and skin to harden like steel and cause complete madness. He is unrecognizable.”

The hard banging sounded from the vent next to the man. He jumped back, falling over in the chair. He jerked out a pistol, aiming it at the vent. “I can still see the Captain’s ghost-white face now. I hope this message reaches you before this demon does. Tell my family I love them. God bless you all, and good luck.”

He aimed the gun at his head and pressed the trigger. The body slumped onto the ground. Moments later, the vent exploded outward as a dark shape shot forward. It tackled the man, pushing him out of frame. The sound of wet gnawing came just out of view of the screen. The soldier hit the stop button on the video, then looked at me, anticipating my response.

“Okay, we need to get a hold of this ASAP. We can track the trajectory of the ship landing and have a team of six agents waiting on standby. Where is the Chariot currently, and how much time do we have until impact?”

“We don’t know where it is, sir. We lost contact seven hours ago. The only thing we do know is that it landed somewhere in the western United States about five hours ago.”

Drugs in Paradise

The large bouncer looks me over and smirks. His large mechanical arms cross as he smiles in recognition. He doesn’t bother checking my ID and looks at the next people in line. But I see the judgment in his eyes.

“You got an issue bud? Do you know who the fuck I am? You know I don’t take any shit! Not on my fuckin’ turf!” Spit flies from my mouth onto the bouncer. I don’t care how big he is. I’d win any fight against this fool.

“Just doing my job sir. Enjoy your stay,” he swallows. Probably, scared because he knows how fast I can flip the switch.

I push through the door of brightly colored beads into the entrance hallway.The hallway is lit by two crooked neon lights. They dimly illuminated hundreds of posters glue and nailed to the wall. I pull off a Vote for Change poster and crumple it up. No matter how many I destroy, an infinite number seems to rematerialize. Behind it rests a tattered missing child poster. I walk into the bar shaking my head at the paper wasted on a dead kid.

To the left I see the staircase leading to the second floor is roped off for maintenance. Every booth and table is taken and people stand in groups talking and laughing about the meaningless day to day stuff they enjoy. Even though it’s only a Tuesday night Helena is singing tonight and she brings a crowd like no other.

Sara is behind the bar like every other night. She’s like me, we don’t take days off. When she sees me approaching, she walks to take my order first. The patrons who were already waiting before me are visibly annoyed but don’t say anything.

“Ez. How are you doing tonight?” She leans on the counter and smiles.

I watch the moving tattoos on her arms dance between images, flowing like a river.

“Not great. Someone’s been making moves against me. It’s got me on edge.”

She raises an eyebrow.

“Okay more on edge than usual. Give me a triple hit of Spectre.”

“You got it boss,” She reaches under the counter and grabs a small computer chip, her hands tossing it to me as she says, “you should really slow down on that stuff boss. You take more than anyone else I know.”

She goes back to helping the paying customers.

I take the chip and connect it to my neural enhancer port. Spectre is a rich man’s drug. Only usable by those of us who have cybernetic brain enhancements. It should start kicking by the time the others get here. I walk to one of the front booths. Phillip, one of my lower gang members is sitting talking to some eye candy. He makes eye contact and waves.

“Hey Mr. Volkov. How are you doing tonight? This is…”

I hold up my hand, silencing him, “I need this booth tonight.”

“Well this is our first date so it would be…”

Time slows as I activate my time dilation enhancement. My hands are a blur of speed even in slowed time, and I hit little Phil with a four piece combo. When time resumes, Phil’s face is a bloody mess and his confused eyes stare at me. His date gasps, frantically looking back and forth between him and I.

“That was your warning. Next time I won’t be so nice. MOVE.”

He looks down ashamed and jogs towards the door. His date runs after him.

I sit down on the side with the best view of the stage. The patterns on the wall morph into armies of snakes, fighting for territory. I watch as a snake commando kills snake child soldiers before taking his own life. Then a slow trumpet and bass play from the stage. The people around me look freakish, like ghouls hiding behind bags of fake skin. My hand grips my pistol, but I don’t pull it out. I’m just tripping. Everything is fine. The music picks up and my heart picks up with it.

Suddenly a beautiful woman’s voice begins to sing, slow and seductive. All the tension leaves my body and I relax as the half cybernetic model slowly walks into the spotlight. She sings in another language but I know the meaning. It’s a song of love and remorse. Her yellow dress sways with the song and her purple hair dances. She glances at me and winks.

Three half-human half-beasts sit in the booth with me. They shimmer between people and wolves. My pack.

One sitting next to me laughs and puts an arm around me.

“Your pupils are massive. You have black holes for eyes, boss. You just take a double hit?” My half-brother Jimmy says.

I smile and nod, “Nothing like some Spectre before a show like this.”

The other two wolves look at each other, but say nothing. They are loyal to the enterprise, not to me. If I don’t make a show of strength soon they’ll stab me in the back.

Jim takes a sip of his water, “Okay boss. We found one of the guys who’s been hassaling our dealers. He’s going to be on Lincoln and first in about twenty minutes.”

“Let’s kill this prick,” I lead the way out the door and down the street as my pack follows. The streetlights are colorful suns that burn away the monsters swirling in the darkness. I see the interloper smoking an e cig on my corner relaxing. My hand folds back, releasing the surgically embedded cannon in my forearm.

Jimmy places a hand on my shoulder, “Boss, let’s just beat him down. Any collateral damage is going to seriously hurt our profits.”

I say nothing as I fire. A bright laser beam hits the demon in the stomach. A flash of red lights up the street. One second he’s standing there, the next his upper and lower half are bisected. He dies instantly, without a sound. My aim is precise, the wall directly behind the body is scorched but nothing else is damaged.

I turn to look at my pack. They are no longer wolves hunting with me, but sheep hiding in wolf’s clothing.

“Don’t question my abilities again Jimmy. Let’s get the body and give the people a message,” They follow me silently as I get ready for war.

Mars

“That’s enough. Your provocations end now. I’ve warned you time and time again, yet you continue to insult my honor,” Kal stood up, his expression grim, “I challenge you to a duel of honor.”

The other five council members around us gasp. The cold black stone walls around us seem to stretch and elongate with the tension in the room and I instinctively swallow. Being in a room with six predators always made me feel claustrophobic, even if I was one of them. The matching gray ceremonial robes worn by all seven of us didn’t help ease my feelings.

“I warned you to stop antagonizing me and my family. You’ve left me no choice,” He glowers at me, while the others anxiously wait for my response.

I wait, milking the moment. They all think I’m mulling over the challenge, looking for some way to weasel out. Normally that would be my strategy, retreat and wait for a better moment to strike when the odds would be in my favor. Unfortunately for Kal, this duel was planned weeks ago.

“I accept. My second, Felix Hoth, will reach out to you by the end of the day to arrange the terms.”

Kal sits back down in his seat, his body still tense, as if looking for a chance to pounce.

The meeting ends and we begin preparations…

Red sand drifts off the dunes around us, carried by a light breeze. Rising over the dunes in the distance is the Spire of Tunitoran. It was at the top of that tower where Kal challenged me two days ago. The sound of Kal and his second laughing is the only noise in the cold desert. About twenty feet in front of me, Kal and his second stand out against the dunes of rust with their bright green skin.

Felix and I chose this location for the duel to avoid the prying eyes of the capital’s denizens. Tunitoran, as the capital of the United Martian Empire, is now the economic powerhouse of the solar system, and all eyes would be looking there. Never before had two council members engaged in a fight to the death. Division used to be a weakness that could have been exploited by our adversaries. Now that said adversaries’ armies lie in ruin, our duel was much easier to orchestrate.

If any of the other council members knew the truth about today, then my head would be rolling down the chopping block and my ashes spread amongst the sand.

To my right was Felix, my second in the duel and my closest friend. Other than me, he was the only one who knew the full plan. Right now, he is crouched, consulting with The Oracle, a hyper-advanced A.I. he created that could predict the near future with a seventy three percent accuracy. A floating orb projects a hologram of Kal and me inside the small lantern-shaped container. Our holograms each pace in opposite directions and abruptly turn, laser pistols drawn. I look away before seeing the scene finish. I don’t want to know the images it’s showing right now.

Kalverius the third was a man of interstellar renown. He was born in extreme poverty, both of his parents were indentured servants to Alexander, Potentate of Phobos. Under the Potentate’s rule, both of his parents were killed during a failed assassination attempt. Kal inherited their debt and became a trained bodyguard indentured to Alexander. Remarkably he won his first duel at the young age of thirteen against one of the greatest duelists who ever lived.

When the UMA rebelled Alexander was slain freeing Kal from his slavery. As soon as he turned eighteen he joined the fight. By the time he was thirty two, he became one of the three great generals who defeated the Slavers of Earth. In the past two decades he has won thirty duels, while this was my first.

For a moment, I stop thinking. All my focus is on breathing in the sun’s rays with my pores. My green skin swells and then subsides slowly as I photosynthesize the sun’s energy. I have to remain calm and collected. No matter what happens, Kal will not leave here alive.

Felix sighs, shutting off The Oracle, “I’m about ready to get this show on the road.”

I snort, “It’s almost time. This is only the beginning, though. I’ll still need your help with everything that comes after.”

He was probably thinking about the various other projects and business dealings he has going on.

“Yeah, yeah, you always need my help. Why are you dueling this idiot again? Honestly, don’t you think killing your opposition in cold blood like this will give the council enough of a reason to impeach you?”

“Well, Mr. Genius, why do you think I made sure to insult him enough that he would initiate the duel? If I just outright challenged him with no cause, then the council would unanimously vote to impeach me– but if he died after challenging me,” I say glancing over at Felix , “then it was clearly just defense over a civil dispute. As to the reason I chose Kal over one of the others, that’s easy. He is the main opposition against allowing Naturalborns to live free. If I can eliminate Kal and install my own ally, then we can add two Naturalborns to the council and create a world of fair representation for everyone.”

Upon hearing this, Felix rolls his eyes. The man really had no understanding of the finer details of politics.

Another reason for instigating Kal was that, as the defender, I get to choose the weapon and place. If blades or unarmed combat were picked, I would stand no chance against my opponent.

“Well, Ms. I-manipulate-everyone, what’s the plan if we’re caught, or if you lose?”

“Excellent question: most likely, every naturalborn will be made a slave, and billions will die.”

“Don’t worry. I never lose.”

Four phone alarms go off in unison, and everyone goes silent.

I lead, taking the first few steps towards them, eager to get this messy business over with. Next to walk was Kal, then his second, and finally Felix. Meeting in-between-us, Kal’s second gives his gun to Felix for inspection. Unseen to the naked eye, Felix slips a transparent disrupter onto the laser pistol. Even knowing what he was doing, I couldn’t see any indication of the disrupter. Felix nods and gives it back to him; the second inspects the gun to check if foul play was done and hands the gun to Kal. The two seconds perform the same ritual with my gun, all except for the disrupter, of course. Kal and I make intense eye contact. His eyes are bright yellow and black, the genetic modification clearly taking inspiration from a falcon.

For the first time today, he spoke to me, “I’ve only dueled a few other women before. I take no pleasure in this.”

My stomach twists in a knot.

“The feeling is not mutual. I will enjoy this,” it was the only taunt I could think of, but it felt empty.

“I hope you’ve already said your goodbyes,” he says, unfazed.

“Same to you,” I nod to him, trying to keep the panic off my face. We each place our backs against each other.

Felix shouts, “Start pacing!”

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. We wait.

Felix and the other second spoke at the same time, “Begin!”

Kal and I turn around and face each other at the exact same time. His pistol is raised a half second before mine. My pistol refuses to go off. He smirks as his first shot rings true and the blast hits me directly in the chest.

Felix slowly walks towards my unmoving body and places a/his hand on my shoulder, “I’m sorry, friend, but I had no choice.”

Red sands bury my vision.

GMH

Bleak barren wastes lay bare before me. I knew coming to this planet would be depressing but seeing it in person makes my stomach sick. Steel-blue clouds curl, wrapping around a hazy golden orb in the distance. The day was already mostly over.

“How are you doing, Laura?” a distorted, squeaky voice interrupts from my earpiece. Hugh had a high pitched voice, and the radio only served to increase the squeakiness.

I slide the Khostran off of my mouth and nose. Now that the toxic clouds have passed by I didn’t need it filtering the air around me. Its tentacles reach around the back of my head trying to pull itself back over my face. I slap it down gently. It stops and settles, perched in its usual spot on my shoulder.

“Good. I have most of the area leading to the woods mapped out. No signs of life or any artifacts yet. It’s eerie out here. It feels like a grim reminder of our ancestors’ mistakes.”

A slight breeze drifts by, blowing through the hive holes that litter my left arm. Hundreds of Thephins inside my arm quiver uncomfortably. I rub my left arm gently, caressing and calming the creatures inside.

“Okay, you should reach the woods any minute. We don’t know what to expect. It could only contain light flora, or it could be more packed with creatures than a rainforest. Just be ready, and above all, stay safe.”

“You got it boss,” I outrank him by two ranks, but I can’t help but tease him.

Close to an hour later, I arrive at the gateway of the forest. Yellow-leaved trees arch overhead creating a natural pathway for me to walk. Small brown birds dart across the limbs, scared of the mechanical invaders. A lizard scurries into some brush.

I smirk. It’s good to see that life has held on through the plethora of extinction events that have plagued Earth, “Well I see plenty of birds and other small creatures in the area. Have you detected any radiation?”

“That’s amazing. Nothing in harmful amounts yet. Do you see any signs of intelligent civilization?”

“No. It’s still extremely unlikely that anyone survived the nuclear war of ‘93. The only reason I could think that people could be here was if they made illegal trips here the past fifty or so years. Maybe set up an illegal off grid homestead or hideout from authorities.”

“How could someone land on the planet without the EMA surveillance team finding out?”

“Trust me there are-”

A large crash from my right distracts me from the thought. I dive to the side, dodging a massive tree falling. I look over to its base and see a hulking mass of fur and teeth barreling towards me. My right hand instinctively raises up, shielding my face. Thick teeth gnaw on my forearm. My barkskin barely holds against the creature’s immense teeth. I push against the mountain, but it refuses to budge. Splinters explode from my skin.

My left arm rattles and buzzes as the swarm comes out. The Therafins are awake. Hundreds of winged insects sting and bite the creature’s face. It roars, rattling the world. The giant bear rears back, tossing and turning, trying to avoid the paralyzing Therafins.

Their venom is already taking effect. The bear’s movement becomes sluggish. I pull out the Aurontus on my hip and aim carefully. An exhale escapes my lips as I pull the fleshy trigger. A single silent shot blasts, hitting its head. The Aurontus burps as it reloads another acidic bullet.

The creature falls with a heavy thump, dead.

“Well I just got attacked by some sort of giant mutant monster.”

“Are you okay? I can be there in a few minutes if you need me?”

“No, I’m okay. Just a little shaken up.”

The Therafins flood back into my arm, full after feasting on the beast. Something moves from beyond the treeline.

“Boss, I think we have another one. Prepare for emergency evac.”

Two shadows separate and inch closer. My hand is still holding tight to the Aurontus, but I keep it lowered. For now.

I steel my voice, “I can see you. Show yourself!”

The shadows emerge from the trees, and step into the daylight. They look humanoid, but hoods hide their faces. On the left one is wearing a tattered, forest-green robe and leans heavily against a metal walking stick. The stick is covered in gears, wires, and springs but they seem to be more of a decoration than anything practical. The other one holds something similar to an Aurontus, but made of metal or rock. A nonliving abomination.

The walking stick figure removes her hood.

It is all I can do not to vomit immediately. Wires are fused together under skin stretched to its breaking point. The eyes that meet mine resemble lenses more than anything else. A small antenna sticks out from the back of her head.

“You barbaric murderer. You killed the bear for nothing.”

“It attacked me. I defended myself.

“You could have run. You’ll probably just leave that body to rot.

“How dare you try to lecture me about the living. You’re more machine than human. You’re less alive than the trees around us.”

“We live in harmony with the world you genetic challenged monster. Leave and never return. That’s the only way this doesn’t end in bloodshed.”

“Go back to your mud holes. You know nothing of symbiosis with the natural world,” the creatures littering my body squeeze gently, reassuring me.

I turn and leave the forest.

Once at the treeline, I radio “Boss, it’s a bust here just like we thought. There are no signs of human life.”

Heartbeat

Gears in my heart churn, forcing it to beat once more. A symphony of platinum, titanium, and tin-coated mechanisms tick internally. The system repairs my injured organ, reviving me. I slowly open my eyes. The world around me is a vague concept that struggles to form coherently in my mind.

I’m sitting at the desk in my study. My research papers are strewn about the desk haphazardly. Stacks of unread books sit on the edges of the desk. I think I was researching the amulet. No, that’s not right. I already got the amulet. I was researching the strange death of Celeste Lucilius. There is a hard thud and suddenly I’m conscious of the rest of the room.

Two shadowy supernatural figures stand on opposite ends of the room. No, not supernatural, just humans wearing black clothes and ski masks. They are too preoccupied with tearing through my shelves of antiquities and books to notice my awakened form. The man on the left is short and chubby. He moves with care, respecting the objects before gently setting them on the ground. On the other hand, the man on the right is tall but keeps his thin frame hunched down.

So, were these the culprits of my latest death? Their timing is too convenient. Showing up days after I killed S.

My breath catches in my swollen throat, causing me to shudder at the raggedness. The two figures catch my movement and stop what they’re doing to face me.

“I told you the poison wouldn’t work. In the third journal he released, he was poisoned by a booby trap, and it didn’t faze him. He probably has built-in antivenom glands,” the shorter man’s voice is boyish and scared.

“Don’t believe everything you read lad. You sound like a little fanboy, it’s pathetic,” the thin man has the voice of an aged smoker.

I look at the short man, “If you kill the other one, I’ll spare you.”

The thin man pulls out a revolver, a Smith and Wesson .38 special with a black handle. “Oh, shut up. I’ll just do this the old-fashioned way.”

Well, I figured that was a long shot. He fires the gun. My eye gives way to the bullet barreling into my skull.

Pistons embedded in my head push and pull. Grey matter rearranges itself until the bullet falls out with a wet, squishy noise. They pump faster and faster until the gap in my head is mostly filled. I look up with my good eye at the two in the doorway. Silicon-mold grows, forming a temporary new skin over the hole. I keep my breath quiet this time.

The round fanboy speaks quickly, “Where else could it be? I knew we shouldn’t have killed him. This whole job has been bad news from the start, Leonard. He’s a national hero, this won’t go unnoticed. Plus, how are we supposed to find the amulet now?”

So they weren’t here to avenge S or to cover up Celeste. It all circles back to that cursed amulet.

Leonard places a thin hand on the other’s shoulder, “It’s alright Charles. We’ll dispose of the body, and everyone will think he’s on some new great adventure. Let’s go search upstairs. It can’t be that hard to find.”

The two leave the room, Leonard first and Charles soon after.

I wait until I hear the familiar creaking of my wooden staircase. Now that I am fully alone, I try to regain control of my body. It’s been a long time since I was killed twice in a row.

My fingers twitch. The poison from before still has me mostly paralyzed.

Come on.

I will my hand to move an inch, but it refuses.

Just a little more.

They twitch again. Then it happens. My mind and body become one again, and I can finally move my arm freely.

Preferably, I’ll kill Leonard first-He seems more experienced, ruthless, and cold. Revenge for my eye may play a subconscious part in that decision. Charles will have to die too, but it should be easier. This whole ordeal is a much needed break from the reading I’ve been slogging through all month.

I must stop them before they find the amulet. Not many people in the world know of its existence, and how these two found out is a mystery to me—one I intend to solve soon.

I open the top drawer of my desk, but my gun is gone. The 1911 was a gift from my father. Rage builds inside me, burning my face.

My hands dig around the whirlwind of debris left scattered on the floor from the intruders. I pull it out: an ancient curved sword with alien runes scrawled along the blade. Not as effective as a gun, but it should be able to deal with these two buffoons.

Before I leave, I scribble down what I know on a piece of scrap paper: two or more intruders, their names, and their physical descriptions. If somehow they stop me this should be enough for Laine to figure out what happened or how to track them.

Saliva builds in my mouth as I creep up the staircase. At the top, I carefully skip the creaky step. It’s high time I build up a set of defenses or traps in this house. Two voices chatter from the master bedroom where the amulet is hidden. I eavesdrop at the door, staying out of sight.

“I found something!” Charles yells, his voice has an American accent, rural midwestern or perhaps southern.

“Let me see,” Leonard’s wheezing voice sounds like new English, somewhere between Maine and Maryland.

A lock clicks.

There is a thump as a small wooden puzzle box hits the rug. These idiots found the amulet and already picked the lock. I might have been underestimating them.

There won’t be a better time to stop them from grabbing it. I turn the corner and lunge towards Leonard. His head jolts up as my blade comes down, chopping off his left hand in one clean stroke.

“IIIIEEEE!” he falls to the ground holding his stump. The amulet falls onto the ground, still clutched by the severed hand.

Before I can land a finishing blow, Charles slams into my side. The blade clatters on the floor as we wrestle. With every maneuver I make, he counters and overpowers. He isn’t an amateur fighter. Time for a new tactic.

I whisper into his ear, “Charles, you’re in way over your head. You may think you know from the books and shows, but what you didn’t account for is that I know you too. Those stories you’ve heard about me aren’t embellished. It’s the opposite. Those stories don’t tell half of what I’m capable of.”

He roars with newfound strength, lifts me off my feet, and throws me. I break through the window with a shatter and start my descent. It seems he isn’t easily deterred by words or intimidation. I hit the ground, and once again my vision goes black.

Grass itches my cheek. Stims have already half fixed my twisted spine. This was going to take a while.

My back deforms and restructures. A broken leg snaps back into place.

Across my driveway, a Ford Explorer speeds away, its license plate number is 9924. A sly grin appears on my face, and I can’t help but laugh. Finally, I have a new purpose.

A new hunt has begun.

Life is Pretty Okay Under AI Overlords

Christa ties the knot with great attention to detail. Every knot will be tied with purpose and care. The tedious work is an art, no knot will be perfect but she can get pretty close. She finishes the knot and delicately places it in the bin next to her. It’s the first one of the day and although it’s a little too tight, she smiles at the prideful knot. Two more pieces of twine fall onto her table space from the chute on the ceiling.

Her workmate, Jake, already had two knots done in his bin. He’s directly across from her and the only other person in the room. His knots are frayed and uneven. One is twice the size of the other. It’s honestly amateurish. The AI quality control technician wouldn’t care, so neither would Christa. She doesn’t care. Still she stares at his knots, her face getting hot. The two of them have different work styles. That’s all. Her way was the right way and his way was sloppy and pathetic. She wasn’t going to say anything though.

In the tiny, padded room it’s hard not to see him throw the third knot in. It’s larger than the other two combined. She says something.

“Your knots are looking pretty ugly today. Are you doing okay? Just wanted to make sure you took all your assigned meds,” she tries to make it not sound condescending.

He raises an eyebrow, “Your single one is looking a little lonely, how about yourself?”

She huffs. Infuriating. Jake is a weasel. No, a rat trapped inside of a human body. Never appreciating a good job done. His hand scratches his slight beer belly. Okay… maybe a koala? Those are lazy, right? Whatever. Christa starts on her next knot.

Jake looks back up at her, pouting his lips. He slicked his greasy, graying hair back before talking. “I’m so bored already. Today is dragging by,” pausing he sighs, “have you checked out any new VR simulators recently?”

Her face cools. She’s not mad at him, not really. She would get mad at anyone in such a small room, “No, I’m still saving up for that Retail Worker one, I told you about a couple weeks ago. The reviews say you can feel the items you stock on the shelves.”

His wrinkled eyes widen slightly, “Dang, that’s impressive. I keep telling myself I need to check out some of those new ones. Did you see the new Siene 1476 drama? It’s the one about the 140 year old retired soldier AI who falls in love with a 22 year old janitor AI.”

“No. I don’t really watch dramas, I can’t seem to get into the characters or story. It’s all so fake.” Her second knot is already halfway done.

“Well, it’s absolutely scandalous. You have to watch it,” He’s always had a flair for the dramatic.

“Maybe I will, once I’m done with my docuseries. That’s more my speed anyways. I’m watching one right now that’s about my hometown.” Unlike most people who group up in various mega cities, Christa was from the small town of Smythe. The small homely town had a meager population of three hundred thousand and nothing of note had ever happened there. She wasn’t going to mention that though. Her late uncle loved that town, and it would tarnish his memory to say a single bad thing about it.

“That’s cool, what’s it about? Like the city in general or something else?” He inquires.

“Yeah, something like that. It’s been pretty fascinating so far.”

The show was about a local species of bird that went extinct a few hundred years ago, and was undeniably boring.

Uncle Phil always thought that humans should have the right to create and perform art. It was one of the many radical things about him. He was executed after being caught with black market human made movie files. Though when she was initially questioned she denied all association, in reality, she enjoyed watching the illegal movies with her uncle. Now years later, she couldn’t remember a single human made movie she had watched.

She glances at her companion. Jake’s eyes are spaced out, his smart glasses show three different feeds he’s rapidly scrolling through. Probably his favorite social media sites. Christa bites her lip before asking, “Have you ever watched anything created by actual humans? Like a movie, or a show, or maybe even a song?”

“No, of course not. AI is so much better at creating entertaining ideas and solving problems, why would a human ever even try?” He either hadn’t put much thought into that answer, or he was excellent at multitasking, because he didn’t hesitate for a second on his social media browsing.

She finishes tying the knot and starts on the next one. “I don’t know, it feels like maybe we should be working on stuff like that while AI does the boring stuff like this.”

Jake snorts, “You’re too much girl, I don’t even know what to say.”

Sighing she stops tying the knot and starts browsing on her glasses for something to watch in the background. Some battles aren’t worth fighting. Their earbuds vibrate in unison as an alarm blares. Their mandatory break time is about to start. A smile breaks onto Christa’s face. Perfect timing, when break time is over she’ll come back more rejuvenated than ever.

Seeing her smile, Jake can’t help but chuckle, “So you won’t give my drama a chance but at the sound of a break you’re all giddy.”

She side eyes him with a guilty look. The cell door clicks and the bars rise up. Both of them hastily walk out into the gray hallway. Hundreds of other workers pour out of their own respective cells, most laughing and talking. Just a few older outliers are upset. All of them walk down towards the courtyard. Christa and Jake follow the flow of people, sticking close together.

Like most of the others, they get in line for food on the way. The process is fast and efficient, she places her wrist on a scanner, it scans the barcode embedded in her skin, and a nozzle dispenses a delicious nutrition cube. She bites into the juicy green cube, fireworks of dopamine and serotonin shoot off in her head (These cubes taste so much better than what Uncle Phil would buy her).

At the large archway leading out towards the courtyard stood two robots. They were black painted steel with four wide legs at each corner. Their heads were rectangular, with three glowing red ocular lenses for eyes. The one on the left chitters nonstop in AI Lingo to the one on the right. While the left one speaks, the one on the right buzzes with laughter.

“Oooh I’m about to earn some brownie points, I’ve been practicing my AI talk. Watch this,” Jake pushes ahead of her through the crowd of people until he is a couple feet in front of the guards.

He jokingly says something to them. She can’t hear exactly what he says but the two guards immediately stop chatting. They stare at him in silence, contemplating. Weighing his judgment. What an idiot. Jake stands there waiting expectantly. The two guards glance at him and then at each other. Christa breathes heavily. After several seconds pass, the two robots burst out laughing. The one on the left extends a small metal rod and pats Jake’s back gently before gesturing for the door.

He looks at Christa with a broad grin and a smug expression. She silently reminds herself to not underestimate him as much.

She smiles, the churning in her stomach fading away, “Jake, you’re an absolute nutter. What did you even say?”

His eyes glint with triumph, “Trade secret.”

Most wouldn’t even dream of confronting a guard model, “I bet they’ll remember me next time a Culling happens.”

At that Christa rolls her eyes. They weren’t due for a Culling for about a hundred and fifty more years.

The courtyard is packed. People trample the yellowed grass under an awning of gray smog. They push and shove each other to get closer to the raised platform, fighting for a better view. Jake and Christa are so far in the back they don’t even try. Large TV monitors line the outskirts, where the two try and settle comfortably. Cameras mounted around the chopping block display it from multiple angles. She coughs at the smoggy air, the shelter created by AI protected her lungs from the harsh air, but outside there was nothing regulating air quality.

The man laying on the chopping block wore dirty rags and his greasy red hair dangled down to the ground. His bruised face rapidly searches the crowd, desperate bloodshot eyes looking for help anywhere. Help won’t come for scum. The robotic executioner slowly lists off the crimes of the person in AI Lingo. Christa doesn’t know enough to make any sense of what was said, but Jake’s face scrunches up.

Her head darts back and forth between the monitor and Jake. “What’s he saying? Quit keeping me in suspense.” Times like this, she wishes she knew multiple languages.

His eyes are glued to the screen, “He graffitied one of the guard bots and assaulted a cashier bot.”

She grimaces, “Who would deface a guard? Some people are plain evil.”

The robot finishes its speech and approaches the man. Its ax is raised high. Jake screams out, “Kill him already!”

The head falls and rolls down the platform. The crowd cheers. Sirens blare indicating break time is over, and the two go back to work laughing.

The Cabin

He puffed on a small Marlboro cigarette as he assessed the scene. The skeleton blocking the road was fresh. There were no fractures or broken pieces in its porcelain form, although its clothes lie in tatters. The little remains of a shiny red jacket were now just scraps of fabric dangling between its ribs. Its gaping eye holes pleaded with the man in black’s soul, silently screaming at him to turn back. A couple feet forward were the mangled remains of the skeleton’s bicycle, the steel frame ripped into two pieces, with a dark green backpack dangling off of the side.

His lip curled slightly at the corners as he walked on the broken asphalt to it, stepping over the bones. He flung the burnt-out cigarette butt in his hand off to the right into some grass. No one was left to care if there was a wildfire anyways. His heart started pounding as he approached, and his breath quickened at the thought of what loot lay within. Drool pooled in his mouth.

The man let out a guilty sigh. Someone was dead, and no matter what was in the pack, he shouldn’t feel good about it. Inside were two protein bars in red packaging with a bold yellow lightning bolt on them and three bottles of water. Although not much, it was enough to keep him alive a little longer. His once-empty pack now made a slight rustle with every step. If the thing that killed that poor bastard on the bicycle was still lurking nearby, it would hear him for sure now. It was time to go.

He kept walking and the thing behind him kept following.

Half of the day went by before he decided to take a break. His black water-resistant jacket was utterly soaked after he had spent all morning walking through the thick mist and shattered pockets of rain. Though the pine trees and dark gray clouds blocked out the sun, he had spent most of his days walking and could keep track of the time reasonably well.

The dilapidated asphalt highway he was walking on could barely be called a road anymore; there were more potholes and cracks than actual road at this point, not to mention there was no inkling of paint left. Luckily, a rusted metal sign was on the side of the road, identifying it as Highway 79. The man in black was still on the right track. He leaned his pack down next to it and sat down, wincing at the feeling of moist dirt on his jeans. As he zipped open his backpack, the dog, who had been about thirty feet back tailing him for the past few hours, finally got the courage to approach.

With its shiny black and tan fur, there was no mistaking it for anything other than a German Shepherd. It sniffed at the man intently, its head lowered as it slowly inched forward. David slowly outstretched his right hand, palm upward towards the dog.

When he was a boy, the school bus would always drop him off at the end of his street, forcing him to walk by the neighborhood menace, a white long-haired dog by the name of Brutus. Most days, the dog would be chained up in its yard, barking and snarling as he hurriedly walked home. Then, one day, it was nowhere to be seen. He had made it to the start of his gravel driveway before he heard it coming. Now, his palm facing upwards exposed the old scar on his slightly wrinkled hands as well as the memory of the attack.

There had never been a time in his life since then that he had trusted a dog, and yet here, at this very moment, he couldn’t help but long for companionship on his lonely trek. He spoke as gently as possible without fully whispering, “It’s alright, baby girl. I’m not going to hurt you. Are you hungry or thirsty?” She looked up and made eye contact with him as she licked his outstretched fingers in response.

He laughed for the first time in a long time. “Okay, well, I got just enough food and water for both of us to have a meal together.” He pulled out the last crusty protein bar left and split it into two pieces, offering the slightly smaller half to her. The two scarfed it down too fast to savor it and he still felt the slight pains of hunger in his gut. Next, he grabbed the half-empty water bottle and took a big gulp. The shepherd was sitting patiently, waiting for her turn, and when he had finished, he slowly poured it in front of her nose. She lapped up as much of it as she could catch, but most ended up getting wasted on the ground. Although he felt irritated at the waste, he breathed in and out nice and slow like his anger management class taught him. Inhale. Exhale. He scratched her neck where the dent of a formerly worn collar was.

“What should I call you sweetie? You don’t have a dog tag or anything for me to go by. How about…Cleo?” Cleo perked up at the sound of her name, tilting her head at him before jumping up on him to lick his left ear. “Ew, gross, stop. We’re not that close yet. I said stop. Get down. DOWN.” Finally, having enough, he pushed the dog off himself and got up. “Alright, let’s get this show on the road; we still have a lot of distance to cover.” With their break and introduction over with, the two continued to head east.

Although the mist had cleared up, the thick brush and curves in the path kept his vision as low as before. Sharp rocks and thick roots jutted across the trail, significantly hindering his progress. The rugged terrain was brutal on his right knee, sending a dull, aching pain with each step. He stepped over a large stone and grunted with effort. Cleo followed him closely, her shorter, narrower form easily dodging the various debris on the ground.

“Stupid dogs, always having life easier. You know some of us have to work to provide for you guys. Well, I know it’s only been a day, but still. One of these days, you’re going to have to start providing for yourself around here.” Since Cleo couldn’t tell what he said, the man made sure to use a soft, gentle tone so she wouldn’t get offended. It was a cathartic experience talking out loud for the first time in weeks, even if it was just to a dog.

A sharp pain darted into his arm. “Ow! What the fuck?” A yellow jacket had stung him on the forearm. But before the tiny wasp got a chance to get him again he smashed it, killing it. “That son-of-a-bitch hurt!” Cleo had cocked her head and was watching him as if telling him to quit whining and hurry up. “Alright, girly, I’m going.” It was only three more steps when a second wasp stung him, this time on the back of his left shoulder. As he tried swatting it away, another got his hand, and another got the top of his right ear. A constant light buzzing echoed off of the trees around him, filling the air as he crushed and killed as many as he could. Red swollen stings had covered both arms before he took off running.

The cloud of yellow and black wasps and the woods obscure his vision, causing him to run headfirst into a thick branch, knocking him down. Thorny bushes clawed at his arms and legs as he tried to stand up, pulling him back onto his knees. Inhale. Exhale.

His body had gotten so used to the pain of the stings it no longer hurt when a wasp stung him. If he couldn’t escape this situation soon, his body would go into shock. He looked to his left, scanning the surroundings for any ideas. All that was visible were more branches, thorns, and thousands of circling yellow jackets. “Shit!” As he swore, a wasp flew into his mouth, stinging his tongue. The small buzzing from before was now deafeningly loud, and it felt as if his ears were about to bleed from the raging noise. He yanked the wasp out with his right hand and looked to his right. A run-down, dark blue car was half-hidden in the woods. Perfect shelter from this storm of insects.

He took off in a sprint towards it, ignoring the blood and pain pouring down from his arms. Pulling on the car door, it opened, somehow unlocked, and jumped inside. Cleo jumped inside close behind as he slammed the door shut.

Thousands of wasps pelted the car with loud, steady thumps. The tingling of his skin was almost unbearable; the only way to alleviate the pain was to scratch the painful welts covering his body. Cleo was licking his arm vigorously as if trying to help.

He glanced up at the cloud of wasps attacking the small vehicle, but all he saw were large raindrops slamming against the window, a heavy storm appearing out of thin air. In fact, there was no sign of the wasps outside at all. David quickly flipped down the driver’s side visor, checking his injuries in the mirror. Although the scratches from the branches remained, there were no longer any sting marks from the wasps at all.

“Shit, Cleo, one of those things must have been closing in on us.” He climbed into the back, pulling her with him. “As long as we stay lying down, it won’t be able to see us. We probably already lost it, considering the hallucination is over, but still better safe than sorry.” He shivered both from the cold interior of the car and the wet clothes that covered him. From his wallet, he pulled out an old photograph. A woman standing next to him and a small girl in the middle.

Gently, he placed his lips on it, kissing it goodnight. It lay cradled on his chest as sleep pulled him under.

Birds chirping woke him up at the crack of dawn. Light gray clouds still sat lazily, unmoving in the morning sky. In the cramped back seat of the car, he had found a decent night’s sleep. His back was pained from the awkward space, but being out of the elements reminded him of easier times. He slid the photo back into his wallet and pulled out his pack of Marlboro Special Blend 100s, the red kind. It was the only kind he ever got for himself, but he would smoke any cigarette offered. It was hard to be picky when the amount of cigarettes in the world was dwindling fast. The Bic lighter lit it easily enough, and smoke plumes blew out from his nose. He imagined himself a fire-breathing dragon; with each puff, he blew out volcanic fire, killing all the demons that haunted these woods.

Cleo woke up sneezing at the smoke that now filled the car’s interior. The man in black sighed, putting it out on the center console. He had forgotten that you weren’t supposed to smoke around others. “Let’s go, girl, let’s try and figure out where the fuck we are.” She jumped out as soon as he opened the door, sprinting directly into the woods. “Shit girl. Come back.” Slowly, he lurched up and felt a twinge of pain in his right knee– it pained him every morning. Looking around, there were no discernable paths or clearings in any direction, and with the sun hidden, he couldn’t even get a vague sense of direction. His stomach growled in pain, and he remembered his lack of food and water. Pulling out the compass, he faced the northeast. Carthage was in that direction, and yet there was no telling where the nearest road or houses were. Sighing, he started walking again. It was only a couple of minutes before Cleo was back following him.

Several hours had passed, and no matter how hard he tried, he could never keep heading in the right direction. Thick briars would push him left, rivers and ponds forced him to make long journeys around, and fallen trees lay all over the forest floor. He couldn’t tell if he had made any progress at all when his stomach started growling in pain again.

It was time to take a break and come up with a plan. He had eleven bullets for his .38 special revolver left, so if he needed to, he could possibly kill a few squirrels or birds. Then again, that would alert any creatures to his location. He could also try sharpening a long stick and making a spear to possibly spearfish. The main caveats were that he had never done it before, and it could be a big waste of energy to try it and fail. Whatever he did, he would have to make sure to get enough for Cleo too.

He looked at where she had previously just been to find an empty spot of grass. Looking around, it was clear she had wandered off again. Okay, so the plan would be to shoot the first animals he saw and screw the consequences. They needed to worry about immediate survival, and long-term survival would just have to wait. He got up, and surprisingly, his knee wasn’t troubling him anymore.

As the day began to end, the thick woods finally opened up as if beckoning him. Perpendicular to him was a long winding dirt trail, clear of debris. The dirt here was a little different, more purposeful and loose. Looking from left to right, there were no clear differences. His compass spun in circles, never stopping in a specific direction. The woods behind him crackled as something sped towards him. David flipped around his revolver in an instant. Cleo was there standing behind him, tail wagging and with a bundle of thick rope in her mouth. “Oh, sorry, Good girl. Shoulda brought me some food, too.” He holstered his gun and gently pet her head before grabbing the couple hundred feet of rope.

“David.” A familiar feminine voice called from the left.

All the hairs on his arm stood up, and his neck tingled as he slowly turned in that direction. The bundle of rope falls to the ground forgotten. Sheila stood in the middle of the path, wearing a torn, dirty, ragged white dress. “Where are you running, David? I’m right here.” His mouth was completely dry, and he was speechless. Cleo was staring off deep into the woods, her hair on the middle of her back standing straight up.

“Shiels, you can’t be here.” David’s voice was shaky, and his heart was pounding a million miles per hour in his chest.

She flashed her beautiful smile. “Michelle isn’t far away either, so why not stay and sit with me? It’s been a long time, sweetheart.” He quickly glanced at Cleo, unsure of what to do or say. It was too subtle to notice at first, but now he heard the low growl coming from her throat. He followed her gaze into the thicket of trees and saw two hungry red eyes inching closer and closer to him. In an instant, he let out a wild shot with his revolver and ran off to the right.

A hideous scream filled the air behind him as the beast tore after him, the mirage of Sheila fading into the light mist. He had never run so fast in his entire life. His feet slamming into the dirt sent jolts of agony up through his calves and thighs. A throbbing pain filled his left side as he struggled to breathe. Inhale. Exhale. Again. Again.

“David! Come back here!” He should have been running the moment he saw her. They’ve both been dead for years, of course it wasn’t real. Thankfully, Cleo had snapped him out of it. The sound of trees falling behind him was getting farther and farther as the distance between him and the demon grew.

“David!”

Nothing was chasing the man in black anymore, but he still couldn’t shake the feeling of imminent death. The tall curtain of pine trees around him was supposed to hide him and Cleo, but instead, it seemed to conceal some ghastly unknown horror. Cleo trotted next to him, and though she couldn’t speak, the hairs standing up on her back indicated she had the same feeling as him. The man had never been partial to animals, but the German shepherd was the first friendly face he’d seen since the Emergence.

Finally, he slowed his run down into a jog and then into a stuttered walk. To the left, a small clearing stood ahead, and in that clearing was a wooden cabin. It was clear to the man that it was a manufactured cabin, not a handbuilt one, as he had seen that exact cabin model before hell arrived on Earth. There were no vehicles outside, but the driveway seemed surprisingly well-maintained.

Cleo trotted ahead, sniffing the ground with vigor as they approached. There was movement inside the right window as the blinds rustled. He couldn’t help but think approaching was a terrible idea, but he desperately needed supplies and rest. The door suddenly swung open as he arrived at the bottom of the stairs. A young man stood in the center of the doorway, holding a double-barrel shotgun aimed at the man’s chest. “Don’t move, stranger. Unless you want me to blow you apart.”

The boy was probably about 19 or 20, and the way his hands shook, it was easy to tell he hadn’t too much experience with aiming guns at people. He wore a slightly too big red flannel shirt and had dark, shaggy hair, but it seemed to have been cut relatively recently. Although the boy had little experience with a gun, the man found that less experience often meant more danger. Cleo let out a low growl, and the flannel boy’s eyes darted briefly in her direction.

“Look, just take your dog and turn around, mister. We don’t have many supplies here, and we’re not looking for any trouble.”

The man wanted to turn around and leave, but his ragged breath and parched lips forced him to stay, and his right hand was poised to grab his pistol. Suddenly, a blonde-haired woman emerged from inside the cabin; she reached out and pushed the shotgun down. She scowled at them both. “Josh! You need to calm down and think before you start making threats you can’t back up. This isn’t your place, and none of us from inside seem to remember putting you in charge while Rob is gone.” Her voice had a thick southern accent to it, unlike Josh.

Cleo’s low growl died down, but she continued to stare intently. Josh groaned, but his body relaxed, and relief washed over his face. “We don’t know anything about who this man is; for all we know, he could be some sort of cannibal or worse.”

Ashley shuddered. “Well, at least we know he isn’t one of those… things. What’s your name, stranger? And more importantly, what’s your baby’s name?”

For the first time in a long time, the man in black spoke to another human. “David…and that’s Cleo. Look, I’m sorry, I’m not here to cause any problems, but we really need some water.”

“Well, why don’t you come inside and rest a bit? I’ll get you two something to drink, and then you can decide if you want to stay for a while longer or leave. David dipped his head down and slowly came inside. Passing by, Josh softly spoke, “Sorry about the gun and everything, sir.” Without answering, the man and Cleo crossed the threshold.

The air inside the cabin smelled of fresh stew, and a fire was roaring in the living room. Next to the fire, a little boy was playing with a small race car. David sat across from him, but the boy paid him no mind.

Ashley walked swiftly into the kitchen, calling out, “That’s my son Philly, and Luke is cooking us all a good meal in the kitchen. We all stumbled upon this place over the past year, and Rob, the owner, welcomed us with open arms. You know, as long as we’re willing to do our fair share.”

Cleo walked in circles in front of the fireplace before finally sitting. Josh was perched on a chair next to the front window and kept watching outside, his fingers tapping his firearm nervously.

The fire warmed his chilled bones, and David felt somewhat safe for the first time in a while. Although he was sheltered, his gut told him to keep his guard up. Something wasn’t right in these woods.

Ashley came out with a glass of water in one hand and a bowl of water in another. She put the bowl down in front of Cleo first. The shepherd graciously slurped at the bowl, almost completely emptying it before David had even started on his glass. The cool water hit his throat, and for a second, it felt as if he were in heaven on Earth.

“You look exhausted. I don’t know where you’re headed or where you’re from, but you have to be built differently to be traveling nowadays. I’m sure Rob would let you stay as long as you like. You might have seen him out there; he always wears a bright red jacket and rides a bike. Anyway, Phil and I are from Atlanta, well, not really Atlanta, but close enough…” Ashley continued to talk, but exhaustion had hit David like a truck. His eyes would slowly close, and then he would try to force them open, only for them to slowly close again. As he drifted off, Cleo walked to him and laid her head on his lap, her eyes matching his.

“Wake up, you hungry bum.” the grizzled voice of an old man said a little too close to his face. The old man, probably Luke, held out a bowl of hot steaming stew. “This is all you and your dog get, I’m not giving you anymore just because you brought a nasty bag of fleas into the house.”

He muttered thanks and poured half the stew into Cleo’s water bowl. David couldn’t remember the last time he had some fresh home-cooked food. Although he had no idea how long his nap had been for, it was now nightfall, and David knew that any more sleep that night would be impossible. The two of them devoured their bowls in less than a minute, and the man felt a great sense of relief having been filled.

David stared at the spot where the woman had previously sat. As if reading his mind, Luke spoke like he was answering a question: “She went to bed already with her boy. Early tomorrow, she’ll be feeding the livestock in the back.” The old man slurped his stew loudly, smacking his lips with each solid bite. Josh was still at the window but now slumped in his chair, eyes closed, his right hand resting dangerously on the trigger of his gun.

“Does he ever move from the window?” David stacked his empty bowl on Cleo’s. Slowly, he set his hand on the dog’s shiny fur and pet her. Although the soup was all gone, its delicious aroma still filled the room.

The old man lightly snorted. “He does what he’s told, like a good little watchdog. Rob told him to keep guard until he came back. That’ll probably be two or three more days; he goes on weekly supply runs now and then.”

Josh stirred slightly, muttering, “I’m still awake, ya know; I can hear everything you’re saying.”

“Why don’t you go ahead and get some rest in your bed, Josh? I’ll keep watch overnight as payment for the meal and water.”

“Yeah, that sounds great, Dave. Thanks.” David flinched, remembering his mother’s favorite nickname for him. The young man, too tired to notice, walked down the hall where a door could be heard opening and closing. Soon, Luke followed suit and shuffled into his bedroom, continuously whispering to himself.

Once he was sure he was alone, he turned his attention to the outside world as Cleo snored. Dark forms shifted beyond human sight. His neck and arms were covered in goosebumps as prying eyes watched him. The man in black sat motionless at the window for the rest of the night.

Roosters crowed, and goats bleated from the back as the pitch-black skies slipped into a dark blue-purple. Now illuminated, the woods seemed eerily still. Branches and leaves flowed with the wind. Ashley came from the back with a cup of steaming black coffee. None was offered to David, and he didn’t ask, even though he felt the urge to.

“I’m going out to feed the animals and do some yard work. I’ll be back in a couple of hours. If Philly comes out, would you grab him a granola bar from the kitchen?” She took his silence as a yes and promptly headed out the back door. As sunrise passed, clouds drifted in and coated the sky in a soft gray. Sighing, David got up and headed into the kitchen.

The pantries were stocked to the brim with all sorts of food. David couldn’t help but laugh as he was reminded of gas stations and supermarkets before the Emergence. His instincts pulled at him, and he started filling his coat pockets with the bright red energy bars. Once the outside pockets were filled, he stuffed the inside pockets with water bottles. His mission was mostly complete; he started shuffling items back into place to hide the small dent he took. You could never be too careful in the apocalypse.

A scream followed by severely loud thuds comes from the back. David cautiously took off towards the sounds with his pistol drawn. Cleo silently made her way to his back and followed. There was a garden to the right with small animal pens, but he stared to the left. Ashley stood back against a pair of barn doors that thudded from the inside.

“David! Hurry, there is one in here. I can’t hold it for long!” Her voice was strained. He took off in a brisk walk to her, his eyes peeling from left to right to watch for others. The branches of the trees turned into long tentacles seamlessly, but David was ready for the hallucination and kept moving. By the time he made it to her, Josh and Luke were right behind him running. Josh was armed with his shotgun, and Luke was holding up a baseball bat.

David silently aimed at the door behind her, and Cleo let out a low growl. Josh took aim with shaking hands and took charge. “On the count of three, Ash will take off towards the house. As soon as she moves, we’ll unload into that thing.”

“David! Hurry, there is one in the house.” The voice came from inside the shed. The first part of the sentence was an echo of Ashley’s voice, but the last two words sounded like Josh’s.

Josh grimaced, “One…..Two…..Three!”

David’s hands were covered in sweat as Ashley took off in a sprint. When she had taken her third step, the door blew open, and it came out. It snaked forward, focused on Ashley when Josh unloaded the first shot into it. The man in black felt his own gun go off multiple times, and each bullet met its mark, hitting the creature with loud booms. It coiled up and shot lightning-fast, its claws aimed at David’s throat.

His right hand had already reached out towards Josh the moment it coiled up. As the creature attacked, David threw the boy between the two.

Josh let out a slight gasp as the creature tore into him. Its faceless head opened up, revealing endless rows of teeth that ground into his flesh. David finally had a shot where he needed it. He aimed his gun at the vulnerable spot on the back of its head and fired his last shot.

With its last dying breath, it screams, calling its kin. Ashley and the old man look at David in disgust and horror as he runs. Cleo is quick behind him. Giving a final glance at the cabin, it was now a writhing mass of wriggling darkness as hundred of creatures swarmed the previously safe haven.

He had never run so fast and so far in his entire life. His feet slamming into the gravel set jolts of agony up through his calves and thighs. A throbbing pain filled his left side as he struggled to breathe. Inhale. Exhale. Again. Again. Somewhere along the way, the dog had fallen behind.

As his run slowed to crawl, he saw the asphalt road come back into view. It led him to a skeleton blocking the way, and before long, he was back at the cabin, where a young man pointed a gun at him.