Final Dawn: Season 1 (The Thrilling Post-Apocalyptic Series) (20 page)

Rachel Walsh

11:18 PM, April 3, 2038

With a steady combination of pushing the handcar and moving it along with the lever, Rachel finally arrived in the outskirts of Raleigh. It was late in the night, though the sky was glowing orange from the few fires that were still raging inside the city. Rachel felt exhausted but didn’t want to risk sleeping when she was this close to a city that she knew nothing about. As the handcar slowly rolled across the tracks, Rachel kept it moving with one slow, steady hand while the other held a flashlight. Rachel pierced the darkness ahead with the light, keeping a wary eye out for any disruptions on the tracks. Then, as they rounded a bend in the track, on the approach to the main rail station on the southern side of the city, Rachel spotted what she had feared since they started out on the tracks.

Up ahead, beyond the rail station, instead of seeing a smooth set of rails continue through the city, Rachel saw only twisted steel and deep craters. Some type of secondary explosion or large piece of debris had to have hit the area, damaging the tracks and rendering them unusable. Rachel sighed in frustration. She had expected this eventuality, but it was still an incredible annoyance to have put so much work into getting the handcar operational only to be forced to abandon it this far from her destination.

Rachel slowed the handcar to a stop, a fair distance from the main rail station and even farther from where the damage to the tracks began. She jumped down and Sam remained still, watching her through tired eyes. He had ridden most of the way from Charlotte to Raleigh, but even the simple act of staying balanced on the makeshift platform on the handcar was enough to wear out even the toughest person or animal.

“Stay, boy. I’m going on ahead to see how bad it is.” Rachel gave Sam a pat on the head and grabbed a bottle of water, forcing it into her back pocket in an uncomfortable lump. She grabbed a spare magazine for the AR-15 as well, then headed off, her flashlight cutting through the dim night as she stalked forward.

Even though they were still on the outer edge of the city, it looked just as bad as Charlotte had when she had passed through. Raleigh had been at the epicenter of at least one bomb, and most of the city was still smoldering from the fires that had torn it apart from the center outwards. Across from the rail station, across several lanes of tracks, she saw dozens of train cars that had been thrown aside like children’s toys, smashed and jumbled together in an unbelievable heap.

Up ahead, the scene grew worse. As Rachel drew closer to the platform she could see that it was in ruins, with the building almost completely collapsed in on itself. Though some of the debris spilled over onto the tracks, the main damage to the tracks themselves had come from some other source. As Rachel continued making her way forward she grew hopeful when she saw a piece of intact rail just past the station until she realized that it was just an isolated section. More damage appeared beyond, stretching far into the city as far as her light could reach. From what Rachel could tell, there would be no way to get the handcar through the city.

With a sigh, Rachel turned around, getting ready to head back and collect Sam and her backpack. Then, in a flash, she heard it. Rachel instinctively dropped to the ground on her stomach, rolling up against the base of the rail station as she heard the faint yet unmistakable buzz of the silver swarms. She caught the noise only for a fraction of a second, and then it was gone so fast that – after a moment’s silence – she wasn’t sure she had heard it at all.

Crap, crap, crap!
Rachel fumed internally as she lay in the rough gravel, tucked up against the broken concrete and scattered debris near the rail station. Several minutes passed, and when Rachel still hadn’t heard the sound again, she stood up, scanning the area with her light for the telltale glimmer that she had expected to see.

Throwing caution to the wind, Rachel decided to leave Sam and her belongings for the time being and continued forward into the city. If the silver masses were here, she needed to find out where they were and how many of them were here before she decided on the next move. Keeping a low profile, Rachel continued forward, her rifle slung up over her shoulder instead of out in front.
Not like it’ll do any good, anyway
.

Nancy Sims

8:29 AM, April 1, 2038

For someone as insane as Richard was, he moved quickly, almost too quickly for James to follow. Richard ducked his head low and ran straight at James, deflecting the blade of the knife with his arm. James was prepared, though, and swung around Richard, adding a push to the man’s momentum to send him barreling even faster headfirst into a wooden support beam.

Having momentarily dealt with Richard, James swung back around to face Joshua, stopping cold as he faced the barrel of a gun pointed squarely at his face. Joshua held the gun straight and level, his hand shaking ever so slightly as he pushed himself up with his free hand. He eyed Joshua with disdain and contempt.

“I really hoped it wouldn’t come to something so crude, but you’ve left me no choice.” Nancy screamed as Joshua lowered the gun by a few inches and pulled the trigger, sending a round directly into James’ abdomen. James cried out in agony, but did not drop the knife or falter in his footing. Instead, he ran straight at Joshua, eyes ablaze in anger and revenge, the knife clenched firmly in his hand as he drove it straight into Joshua’s chest.

Both men said nothing. Their faces were mere centimeters away from each other as they stared into one another’s eyes. One pair cold and dead, the other full of life and pain. James twisted the knife sharply in Joshua’s chest, sending the man into spasms as the blade plunged deeper into his chest cavity, finally touching his heart and tearing the tender flesh. Blood poured like a fountain out of the wound around the knife blade and James stepped back, watching as Joshua stumbled backwards, clutching at his chest with his dying breath.

James ran to Nancy’s side, helping her up off the ground. He was bleeding from his stomach, and his white shirt was stained with deep crimson blood. Both he and Nancy glanced at Richard, still knocked out cold on the ground next to his brother.

“I should finish him off,” coughed James, droplets of blood spraying from his mouth as he spoke.

“Leave him! Let’s just get out of here!”

In no condition to argue, James nodded, clutching his stomach wound and fighting to stay upright. Nancy put a shoulder under his right arm, helping him hobble towards and up the stairs.

At the top of the staircase, they swung open a thick oak door, revealing the interior of the building that had served as their makeshift prison for the last two days. Just outside the top of the stairway they stood in a small dining room, with a living room to the right and a kitchen to the left. Curtains were open on all the windows, revealing rows of houses and trees out the back window.

Nancy glanced around, then steered James through the kitchen and towards a side door of the house. They stumbled along as they went, knocking over chairs and pushing piles of garbage out of the way. When they reached the door, something caught Nancy’s eye, and she stopped, looking into the bathroom that was adjacent to the hall.

The bathroom door was half open, and inside Nancy could see the bare legs of a woman, presumably the one who had been tied up in the basement with them. Blood was pooled around the woman’s legs and feet, and large sprays of blood covered the walls. Nancy shuddered and recoiled at the sight, but pushed open the door anyway, letting James lean against the wall for support. “Hold on a second, I need to see if she’s still alive!”

Inside the bathroom the scene was grisly. The woman’s hands were still bound, tied around the toilet in the bathroom, holding her tightly face-down on the floor. She was naked and her mouth was bound with a thick rag that wrapped around the back of her head. The worst part, though, was the state of the woman’s body, which showed signs of horrific torture.

The woman’s back, sides, arms and legs all had long, deep cuts in them, and there was an array of knives and saws scattered around her body, most of which were covered in dried blood. Nancy gagged at the sight, covering her mouth at nose. She leaned down and pushed at the woman’s leg a few times, getting no response, then stood up, backing slowly out the door.
Who the hell would do something like this?
Nancy could barely accept what she was seeing. There appeared to be no purpose or point in the torture except to inflict pain on the woman. She didn’t look like she had been violated, just tied down and flayed alive. Whatever kind of terrible things she thought about the two brothers who had taken them, she realized now that she had only imagined the tip of the iceberg. The true horror of what they were going to do to her was lying in front of her, too impossible and terrifying to believe.

After what she had seen, Nancy was certain the woman was dead, and didn’t relish the idea of staying around in the house any longer. She stepped back outside the bathroom and closed the door, putting her arm around James again and continuing on through the exit.

“What did you see?” James wheezed at Nancy. She shook her head, not wanting to think about it any more. “Hell.” James nodded grimly at this and picked up his pace, moving faster to get outside. 

Pushing through the door, Nancy and James exited the house into a side yard. Directly across from the house was a small picket fence, then another house. As they glanced around, trying to find the best way to go, they saw that they were nestled in a small neighborhood. The houses were all intact, with windows, doors and shingles unbroken. Green grass and trees surrounded them, underscoring how little damage the neighborhood had received from the bombs.

James raised his arm and pointed at the end of the driveway. “There, that’s their truck.” James was nearly doubled over in pain, but continued stumbling along the driveway with the help of Nancy.

The pair had almost reached the brothers’ truck when a scream came from inside the house. Nancy and James looked at each other, realizing that Richard must have woken up and found his dead brother beside him.

“Get in, quick!” Nancy shouted at James as the anguished screams of Richard continued to echo from the depths of the house. They had just reached the truck when they heard a door slam. They turned around to see Richard storming out the front door of the house and standing on the porch. He was wild-eyed and pointing at them, still screaming incoherently.

Nancy helped James around the side of the truck to the passenger seat and opened the door. Footsteps behind her warned her of Richard’s approach, but she turned around too late. He was on her in a second, slamming her head against the back side of the truck and then shoving her to the ground. Nancy’s head felt like it was exploding and she blacked out as she hit the rough pavement of the driveway.

Satisfied with his handiwork, Richard turned to face James, knocking the pistol from his hand with a savage swipe. James was backed up against the seat of the truck and Richard stared at him, anger and hatred burning in his eyes.

“Your turn!” Richard screamed at James, leaping forward at him.

Marcus Warden

8:37 AM, April 1, 2038

For once, Marcus had no dreams during the night as he slept, and woke the next morning feeling more refreshed than he could recall. His muscles in his legs and back ached from the bicycle, but with no nightmares to disturb his sleep, he felt rested and alert.

The rising sun cut through the cloud cover, painting a new picture on the world that surrounded Marcus. He jumped out of the back of the van, yawning and stretching as he looked around. Most of the fallen trees that surrounded the interstate and disappeared into the distance were dead, their limbs stripped bare of leaves, showing evidence of the destruction that had rained down not many miles away. Though Marcus assumed that the epicenter had been somewhere over the city of Charlottesville, seeing this much damage so far out made him concerned for the much larger city of Richmond and what he might find there.

Marcus walked around the van, holding his backpack in one hand, and slung it over the bike. He pulled out the binoculars and held them up, eyeing the interstate that stretched far to the west, past the destroyed overpass he was camped on. The interstate made a few close passes to the city along its path and he could just make out the next exit on the horizon. From what little he could see through the glare of the sun and the smoke on the horizon, it looked like the destruction was going to get significantly worse before it got any better.

Overturned trees and cracks in the interstate were the least of his worries. Over the next few miles, he could see large swaths of the road had been ripped from the ground from the force of the explosions, tossed aside like candy wrappers. Cars, trucks and pieces of what he assumed to be buildings all littered the ground ahead, blocking his path. Marcus sighed at this and pushed the binoculars back into his backpack, contemplating his next move. While the overpass was mostly destroyed, he could still squeeze by on the side with the bike, negating the need to backtrack and go around. Afterwards, though, he wasn’t sure what he was going to do to get past all of the destruction.
One thing at a time.

Marcus shouldered his backpack again and wheeled the bike over to the edge of the overpass. A small section of the support column in the center of the median on the highway below had survived, leading to a thin piece of the overpass structure surviving as well. It was only a foot in width, though, and looked like it might collapse at any time. Marcus turned the bike around in front of him, gripping the handlebars. Slowly he pushed the back wheel onto the strip that extended over the highway. With a deep breath, he walked out after the bike, steering it with the handlebars to keep it firmly in the middle of the strip as he followed behind. After a moment of careful pacing, he grew more confident and sped up, walking at nearly full speed to get to the opposite side of the overpass.

In a flash, everything went wrong. A small piece of rebar that protruded through the cracked strip of overpass caught on the back tire, sending it to the left, towards the ground below. Trying to correct the course of the bike, Marcus ended up overcorrecting, steering the front wheel into the edge of the right side of the overpass. This forced the back wheel farther over the edge, catching on the underside of the structure, threatening to pull the rest of the bike down with it.

“Shit!” Marcus yelped loudly, digging his heels in and leaning back, not daring to let go of his only mode of transportation. His legs and arms very nearly screamed in protest, with the pain of the last few days coming back in full force. The bicycle, while easy to ride over a smooth surface, was not the lightest thing in the world, and Marcus was caught off-guard by the suddenness of the entire event. Grunting and straining, he fought against the weight of the bicycle and the friction of the overpass, struggling to pull the fallen wheel back up and over the edge. With a heave, he gave one giant tug and the wheel popped loose, nearly sending the bike flipping over to the opposite side of the strip.

Marcus panted and gasped from the exertion, but dared not let go of the handlebars of the bike lest it start to fall again. He slowly stood up, pulling the bike up with him, and continued on, walking at a snail’s pace as he did when he had first started out. When he finally reached the other side he fell to the ground, pushing the bike to the side to crash next to him.

Marcus gave the bike a nasty look as he sat on the interstate catching his breath. “Never again.”