Final Dawn: Season 1 (The Thrilling Post-Apocalyptic Series) (29 page)

7:13 AM, April 5, 2038

As Sam’s mood darkened, Rachel’s guard rose. Instead of bounding through the rubble, running back and forth and sniffing various items of interest, Sam was glued to Rachel’s leg, trotting along with his ears lowered. Rachel kept a tight grip on her rifle as they neared the site of the green tents, the first of her two destinations inside the city. From her vantage point on the building, Rachel saw that the group of tents were set up in a small park, around the point where the damage began to decrease.

Rachel slowed her pace as she and Sam entered the park. She scanned the park closely as they walked toward the tents, listening for Sam to give any indication that he heard anything out of the ordinary. He continued to slink along next to her, though, so Rachel pressed on.

Around thirty feet from the group of tents, Rachel stopped and crouched down, holding the rifle up to her shoulder. She called out in a soft voice, “Anyone around?” Silence was her only answer, but she stayed still for several minutes, watching and waiting. When she was satisfied that no one was there – or, at least no one who would acknowledge their presence – she continued on.

The thick canvas of the tents prevented Rachel from peeking under the edge, but the side of the one closest to her had a large flap that covered a mesh window. Rachel slid up next to the mesh and pushed the flap up, revealing the interior of the tent. The bright light emanating from the interior was blinding, and Rachel panicked momentarily, letting out a slight yelp and nearly firing off the rifle. A second later, though, she realized that the light was coming from a group of EL lights that were hanging from the roof of the tent.

Moving around to the front of the tent, in the center of the encampment, she nudged Sam, pushing him to enter the tent ahead of her. He did so willingly, sniffing the flaps of the tent as he walked in, then he poked his head back out at her. Rachel pushed through the tent flaps, patting Sam on the head as she passed by. The light level inside the tent was significantly brighter than outside, and it took Rachel’s eyes a moment to adjust to it.

The interior of the tent was filled with empty crates, a few tables, and stacks of electronic equipment encased in thick metal shells with small LCD screens on the front. All of the electronics appeared to be offline, and each of them had holes randomly scattered across them that went straight through from one side to the other. Rachel continued to scan the room as she approached the lights. She pulled several of them down and switched them off, then shoved them into her pants pockets. EL lights worked off the principle of electroluminescence where a small battery in the base of the light stick drives a current to a phosphor fluid in the main body of the stick, causing it to glow with an extreme intensity. The rugged design of the EL lights meant they could survive and operate in the harshest conditions, a fact that wasn’t lost on Rachel.

Not seeing anything else of interest, Rachel hurried to the next tent. Like the first, it was illuminated in the same manner. The main difference was that it was filled with more electronics than the other, along with several satellite dishes of varying sizes, from those that would almost fit in a pocket to one that was six feet in diameter. These dishes were all connected to stacks of electronic boxes with thick cables. The cables, boxes and dishes all had the same types of holes chewed through them, just like in the first tent.

As Rachel approached the third and final tent, the hair on Sam’s neck began to rise and he gave off a low growl. “What is it, boy?” Rachel held the rifle firmly against her shoulder as she approached the tent, then she nudged Sam to enter before her. Sam didn’t move this time, though, choosing to remain still, firmly planted at Rachel’s left side. She sighed and continued forward alongside him, crouching as she peeked through the flap of the tent, moving her rifle back and forth from one end of the structure to the other.

This tent was not illuminated like the first two, and Rachel initially had a hard time seeing inside it. She pulled out one of the EL lights she took from the first tent, switched it on and tossed it a few feet forward. As the phosphors in the light began to glow and the interior brightened, Rachel recoiled in horror. She struggled to keep from vomiting in revulsion as the nagging question of “where did everyone go” was answered.

In the center of the tent, in a large pile lay the remains of at least seven individuals, though it was hard to tell exactly how many there were. Folds of skin, bits of bone, splashes of blood and shreds of clothing all mingled together, forming a viscous mess that no more resembled human remains than a bowl of freshly prepared vegetable soup. The remains looked and smelled fresh, too, and were likely no more than a few hours old. Rachel stepped into the tent again with her gaze averted, then she stopped and crouched down low, examining the ground. In the dry dust under the tent, she could make out the clear signs of three sets of footprints that exited the tent and disappeared into the grass beyond. Rachel turned this discovery over in her mind, feeling a cold chill running along her back as goose bumps formed on her arms.

Rachel was turning to leave when a glint on a table caught her eye. She hurried over to it, finding a small metal lockbox sitting out with a single word scrawled along the top. Rachel’s eyes widened as she examined the box, and she quickly stuffed it into her pocket. She left the tent after pocketing the box, following Sam a short distance away to where the camouflage netting was installed.

The netting was hung about fifteen or twenty feet off the ground, supported by aluminum poles and draped down to completely conceal the objects underneath. Rachel lifted up the edge of the netting with her rifle and Sam walked through, sniffing the ground in a disinterested manner. Rachel followed behind him, finally seeing what the netting hid.

Six Humvees, two armored personnel carriers and three Jeeps were parked under the netting, along with dozens of crates of equipment. No bodies or remains of bodies were to be seen here, but the equipment and the vehicles all looked to be in good condition. While the Humvees were parked in an orderly fashion of two rows, the APCs and Jeeps must have arrived later and parked in a much more erratic manner given that they were scattered out, with broken crates and discarded ammunition canisters around them.

Rachel picked through the vehicles, checking to see what they had been carrying. Most of them were empty, except for a few crates that were still boxed up. Rachel pried open one of the crates with a small crowbar that had been discarded and started picking through the packing materials. Inside the crate were several small grey canisters with white lettering that read “DANGER: FLAMMABLE.” The bottoms of the canisters indicated that they were for use in an M12A2-7 portable backpack flamethrower.
Idiots,
Rachel thought.
All you did was piss them off.
 

Rachel went around to the front of the closest Humvee and opened the driver’s side door. Unlike the previous Humvee that she had ridden in, this one didn’t have a keyed ignition. Instead, there was a switch and a small lever. Rachel turned the switch and, a few seconds later, an orange glow appeared on the dashboard. She flipped the lever and the diesel engine started, thrumming with power. Rachel quickly switched the engine off, satisfied by what she had found. While taking the Humvee to the building up north was a tempting prospect, she didn’t want to attract any more attention than necessary. Once she checked out the building she decided that she would come back and get one of the vehicles to take north into Washington.

As Rachel got out of the Humvee and jumped to the ground, she saw more sets of bare footprints in the soil that she had missed. She followed their path, seeing multiple sets that crisscrossed around the area. Rachel moved quickly out from underneath the netting, looking down at the ground as she called for Sam to follow. “C’mon Sam, we need to get out of here now!” Rachel kept her rifle at the ready as she ran alongside Sam, looking to the left, right and behind her as she headed north. Her breath grew ragged and the pain became more intense, but everything fell to the wayside as she hurried to put as much distance between herself and the prints as possible.

Leonard McComb

7:47 AM, April 5, 2038

While Leonard wasn’t intimately familiar with firearms, he had read enough books and magazines on the topic to be reasonably well informed. Manhattan’s ban on guns had stood strong for decades, and Leonard’s main firsthand experiences were when he had visited his parents. They had a few rifles and a pistol or two. Nothing major, but Leonard enjoyed spending time at a shooting range with his father. They talked more than they shot, but Leonard got the gist of it.

He didn’t recognize most of the guns in the room, but based on their size (and the size of the ammunition stored beneath them) they looked to be powerful enough to take down a raging elephant. A collection of electronics was in a corner as well, and Leonard thumbed through it, discovering a few computer screens, cameras and various surveillance devices. Having an inside look at the armory of a police station was an eye-opening experience for Leonard. “Now I know where half their budget goes.”

Leonard pulled a few guns off the racks and set several boxes of ammo aside next to them, placing them just inside the armory door.
Might as well have one more quick look around before I get this stuff loaded up.
He hadn’t been at the police station for long, but he was starting to get nervous about hanging around one place for any length of time. The Jeep had limited storage space, but if he was careful he figured he could pack it full with a good amount of food, water and weapons.
Should be more than enough to get me out of here.

Before carrying supplies downstairs, Leonard decided to make one more check of the building in case he had missed anything. He hurried through the top floor, checking all the rooms, then moved down to the main level and then the basements. Aside from a few badges and bits of food here and there, he found nothing new. With his final check of the building complete, Leonard was satisfied that he had found everything useful that he might need, so he headed back up the stairs.

On the main floor, as he was walking through the lobby to go back to the top level, Leonard saw movement outside in the parking lot. Fighting to keep his panic down, Leonard took the shotgun in hand and began walking toward the front door. As he did, a woman came charging up the steps with a dog in tow, screaming as she pointed a rifle at him. The woman was breathing heavily and had a large backpack on, and her clothing was stained with dirt and sweat.

“GET DOWN! DROP IT!”

The woman screamed at Leonard, stopping in the courtyard outside the main doors. She kept her rifle pointed at Leonard with her finger hovering over the trigger. Her hair was cut short, and her face was gaunt and serious, showing a hint of the struggles that she faced over the last several days. 

What the hell... you have got to be kidding me.
Leonard was shocked to see another person, especially one who wasn’t rushing at him to kill him.
Well, I guess she actually might be doing that… but at least she’s not one of those things. 

Marcus Warden | Nancy Sims

7:22 AM, April 5, 2038

Nancy braced herself against the interior of the truck as Marcus bounced it along the road, careening over potholes and rubble scattered in the streets. The group of creatures behind them had reappeared and was gaining quickly, with a distinct advantage over the old vehicle in the ruined city. Not having witnessed the creatures up until today, Nancy was aghast at their appearance, and equally surprised at the level of calmness with which Marcus treated their appearance.

“You don’t even look worried about them, Marcus!” Nancy’s words were garbled by the rattling of the truck, and she had to nearly shout to be heard.

“Believe me, I’m terrified of them. They’re taller than me and three times as strong, to boot.” Marcus was, indeed, petrified of the creatures that were chasing them, but with a proper vehicle under his control, he was confident that they could outrun them. The creatures were gaining ground when the truck was slowed down by obstacles, but they began to lag behind and lose ground whenever the truck hit a clear patch of road.

“What’s your plan?”

Marcus didn’t take his eyes off the road. “I don’t know yet. Try to lose them, first, then try to get to the house, I guess.”

In the back of his mind, what worried Marcus more than the creatures themselves was their sudden appearance. There were six of them in pursuit of the truck, the same number Marcus had seen kill the man near the overpass. No matter how many times he tried to find a way around it, the fact remained that these creatures had to be the same ones that were at the overpass.
Which means they followed me.
Another thought appeared.
Or….

“How long were you driving on the Interstate?”

“What?”

“When did you get on the Interstate, what exit? Do you remember?”

“I can’t really remember… I think it was back around some mountains. I was on a smaller road, coming out of a forest or something, then I saw a sign leading to the highway and it said that Richmond was this way.”

Marcus turned the wheel sharply, throwing them to the right to make a sharp corner.
She must have brought them down. They heard the truck and followed her
.

“Why do you ask?”

Marcus remained silent, and then abruptly changed the subject. “There, ahead of us, see that sign?”

On the right side of the road stood a bent sign, blue with a white symbol of a shield.
POLICE
was lettered on the sign under the shield, with an arrow pointing straight ahead. Nancy looked incredulously at Marcus as they roared past the sign. “You’ve got to be kidding. How are the police going to help with those?” She threw a thumb backwards in the direction of the creatures, not bothering to turn around.

“Not the police themselves, but the police
station
. The building. If it has a jail, that should be well fortified, and it’ll probably have lots of guns, too, so we can arm ourselves.” Marcus looked in the mirror at the beasts chasing them down the road. “Those things take a hell of a beating to come down, and right now all we’ve got is a machete and a tire iron.”