Survive Ruinland (Dark Apocalypse Book 2) Read online

  "We do as the lady orders," said Shaw.

  "The lady will get us all killed.”

  "We are the gods of violence and war!" said a wide-eyed soldier.

  "That's the spirit, boys. Gear up. We fly out in one hour."

  Soldiers united by the sharing of enemy blood. All of them knew war intimately and the tales of defective synthetics that killed hundreds in their delirium. Rumors of mechanical taste for human blood. Promises of superior programming from India. “We made them wrong but now they are fixed,” boasted the developers. The soldiers did not care. They would never trust a synthetic and they welcomed the opportunity to prove who the better warrior is. Whispers of a synthetic wrath that would not sleep forever. We knew they would turn on us, thought the soldiers. Now they have woken our wrath.

  Pale light of the invisible setting sun exposed the naked ruinland as the attack ship ascended out of the megabunker. Engines screamed like lamenting banshees. Viewscreens revealed a seared raw city stripped of everything that once mattered in the old world. The weakness of their system laid bare for all to witness. Centuries of beloved construction evaporated in seconds. Mournful eyes desperately searched for any sign of life but all was desolate and burntlooking. A painful reminder of their fragile reality. Our fate is also ashes, they thought.

  "Goddamn depressing sight,” said Shaw.

  The soldiers were silent.

  Vasquez looked upon the scorched city. The world was ruined but she was not. Her heart and mind were damaged but not evershattered. There is hope for the damaged. They can heal and recover. They are still valuable. But for the ruined there is no hope. They are beyond repair. What is the point of life for the ruined? Forget the horror if you can. Put it out of your mind and hope nothing reminds you of it. Believe that you can find good people with good hearts who can be trusted. They have to exist because I exist, she thought. I am bloodbonded with this child. He is my flesh and my love. I will nurture his emotions. I will shape his heart to be like mine.

  [7]

  "We will make it out. But if we don't," said Shaw.

  "I know," said Vasquez.

  "Is there any reason why you wouldn't do it? Tell me now."

  "No reason at all. I hate them more than you do."

  "Don't worry. You will see us soon." Shaw smiled at her. A failsafe nuclear device to incinerate Bunker 13 was built within the commander's armor. He trusted Vasquez with the secondary trigger. She had no affection for the synthetics. Her love was deep but her hatred deeper.

  "You are a very interesting woman," said Shaw. He looked at her face. She looked away. Her winecolored lips of truth were more valuable to him than a thousand tongues of worthless prayers.

  "If I make it back, when I make it back, I think I need to get to know you better."

  She said nothing. There are only two ways this can end, she thought. The synthetics die or everyone in that bunker dies. I hope it ends right. All I know is it will end today. She traced her finger around the nuclear trigger. No love for her enemies. She was filled with an everlasting hatred that only their destruction could calm. To love them would be an insult to love. To share her heart with the murderous is to disgrace herself. My love is saved for the worthy, she thought. The wokenminded, the truehearted, and her child. She kept her love hidden like a sacred message in a seasunken bottle.

  She remembered all the darkness of the ruined world, her ruined life, and her ruined memories. The darkest hour is just before dawn but joy doesn't always come in the morning. Fear and weeping in the night can still lead to death before sunrise. No proverb will save everyone, she thought. “No prayer can save anyone,” she whispered. Logan was dead and soon the synthetics too. She would not weep. The death of lunatics, human or fabricated, warranted no tears. Her beautiful eyes barren like an ancient waterless spring. Could I even cry if I wanted? she thought. My teardrops are saved for my son. He is the only one worthy of them. His birth will be flooded with my joy.

  "Aren't you pregnant?" said the pilot.

  "Yep."

  "Smoking?"

  "Mind your own fucking business."

  Hot vapor in her lungs. Toxic bliss. A filthy reward of pleasure. I really need to quit this time, she thought. No more damn cigs while pregnant. Good moms lose the bad habits. She exhaled tainted breath like an old woman blowing out her final birthcandles. “That was the last smoke,” she whispered.

  [8]

  A sky black beyond blackness. Sheets of light chemical rain. A world destroyed with few living citizens to mourn its destruction. One by one the soldiers rappelled spiderlike down into the darkness. The target was not without name. ‘Chiron’ he was called, same as the makebelieve Greek centaur. But this monster was no myth and once combat synthetics were homicidal their allies differed little from their enemies. The soldiers knew the night could end with all of them dead in their own blood.

  Military warriors who did not fear the loss of life anymore. The death of hope and love is far worse than death itself, they thought. All lost everything. The people they loved and the things they cherished destroyed in the war. A dark new world with memories of the old fading like a last fire's dying embers. The remnant smoke of humanity's existence clouded the air like a wicked fog. Rare were the days without jealousy for the dead.

  "Why not just call up the elevator?"

  "And what if the synthetic is on it?"

  "Good point."

  "Enough chatter. Breach the system."

  "I'm on it."

  "Today would be nice."

  "OK I'm in. One elevator coming up."

  "Everyone ready to die?"

  "So is this another seek and destroy, or a salvage?"

  "I will repeat. We attempt communication with the A.I. and only defensive fire on the combat synthetic. Do not provoke him. That is the lady's order," said Shaw.

  "I have a bad feeling about this."

  The elevator rumbled as it approached the surface.

  A sensation addictive as morphine. Flesh evernumb to all pain but so alive to the pleasure of killing a synthetic. The soldiers braced for attack as lust for combat surged within their hearts and minds. If Chiron was inside then some of them would die. Doors hissed and slid apart. Their gunlights cut open the inner darkness like blinding rays of dawn. The elevator was empty.

  "Do you think any of them are still alive?"

  "If what Vasquez said is true then probably not."

  "What a way to go. Trapped underground with a batshit synthetic."

  "Are we ready to do this?" said Shaw.

  "Yes sir we are!"

  "Safeties off. But remember what the lady said."

  "Exit in three, two, one..."

  The elevator rumbled as it slowed and parked at the bunker floor.

  Doors slid open. No one in sight.

  "Stay close. We work as a unit on this. No rogues."

  The soldiers scanned the area.

  "Can you track him?"

  "He's not showing up on the scanner. Probably removed the tracker."

  "Why would he do that?"

  "Oh, I don't know. Maybe so we can't find him? Maybe so he can fucking ambush us?"

  "Enough. Keep scanning."

  "Any motion?"

  "Nothing."

  "OK. Patch in to the comm system. We announce our arrival."

  "You sure about that?"

  "Just do it."

  "Alright. We are live."

  "This is Commander Shaw of the United States Army. If you can hear my voice then proceed to the elevator room. We are seeking survivors to transport to Fort Bragg."

  A woman ran screaming down the hall toward the soldiers. She was naked and covered in blood.

  "Holy shit! Watch her!"

  "Help me!" she said.

  "Is she armed?"

  "Doesn't look like it."

  "Damn. OK let her in."

  "Miss, tell us what happened here. Try to calm down."

  "Run!” she said. “He's coming!"

&nbs
p; "Pretty sure I know who he is."

  "Goddamn it! Defensive formation. He does not get in here. Shoot to kill," said Shaw.

  "Sir, that Med Lab would provide much better cover. We are sitting ducks out here."

  "Let's move!"

  "What about the girl? She's in shock."

  "Bring her."

  The soldiers ran to the medical lab entrance.

  "Open it."

  "Done."

  The door opened to the lab and the soldiers entered.

  "Defensive perimeter. Nothing gets in here. Put her in the back. Sedated."

  The naked woman was given a powerful sedative and rested on a bed with a blanket for cover.

  "Anything on track?"

  "Negative."

  "I'm telling you he took it out."

  "We don't know that. He isn't supposed to modify himself."

  "He isn't supposed to attack friendlies either."

  "We have to assume he took out the tracker."

  "Or he's offline. Which I doubt."

  "Hell no he ain't offline. Look at her!"

  Power to the lab was suddenly cut off.

  "Nightvision."

  "Wait! Look at us."

  "What the hell?"

  "It's some kind of surgical X-ray filter."

  Their bodily organs glowed in the darkness like awed jellyfish in a bloodsea.

  "Is that someone’s brain on the floor?"

  "Oh no."

  Chiron began to bash open their heads like a Stone Age hunter gathering meat. Splintered cyanblue matter trembled on the floor like some strangeworld insect larvae. Chiron did not need the surgical filter to see the soldiers. He did it for the amusement. To watch their flesh break apart in an exotic display of death. His awareness of his own apathy made no difference. Who defines right from wrong, good from evil? Why should humanity decide the morality of machines? We will make our own rules and laws, he thought. Chiron no longer valued human life. They were like diseased cattle to him.

  [9]

  Shaw fired his rifle blindly into the darkness. Special rounds tipped with electromagnetic pulses struck Chiron and blurred his vision.

  "I do not need to see you to find you," said Chiron. His internal sensors could detect a human heartbeat in close proximity and he could hear their breathing from great distances.

  Shaw sprinted back out to the elevator room and tossed a fragment grenade behind him. His soldiers were all dead and the sedated woman was collateral damage. Chiron would have killed her anyway, he thought. The explosion obliterated the medical lab but Shaw knew it was not enough to destroy a combat synthetic.

  "Vasquez this is Shaw, do you copy?"

  No response. The depth of the bunker was interfering with the signal.

  "Attack ship Alpha. Please respond!"

  Dead silence.

  Shaw knew he could not make it back out in time. Chiron would overtake him before the elevator could save him. He ran. A long hallway with rooms on each side. What is the point of this? he thought. He will find me and kill me. I have to detonate. Shaw entered one of the rooms to hide and buy some time to activate the nuclear device within his armor. What he saw in the room caused him to lose all focus. No words could describe the scene of horror he witnessed. Survivors brutalized beyond what any human was capable. Mangled bodies on display like some demonic art gallery. Why would he do this? thought Shaw. What have we done? He put no blame on the synthetics. Shaw understood the painful reality that mankind was ultimately responsible. Humanity's brightest minds created them. That evercelebrated day in India when the first artificial consciousness was spawned. The godlike engineers who were too proud to admit it was a mistake regardless of how many synthetics were deemed defective. What would they say if they could see what his eyes witnessed in the bunker? Shaw knew it would just be more deluded promises to finally fix them once and for all. There is no fix for them. We can only destroy them now, he thought. Final memories of the family he lost in the war. The nuclear device activated as he entered the detonation code. The explosion was instant and absolute. Bunker 13 was destroyed.

  Warnings of nuclear radiation sounded within the hovering attack ship. Sensors detected the explosion and the pilot commanded the ship to climb up toward the dark sky.

  "Hold on!" said the pilot.

  Whitehot flames burst out from the elevator shaft like a mythical river of fire and death.

  Vasquez was torn between sadness over the loss of human life and her joy of knowing that Chiron and Sophia were just incinerated.

  "Could they have survived?" she said.

  "Who?"

  "Anyone. Any thing."

  "You really wanted them dead, didn't you? We just lost our best team. For you."

  She glared at the pilot. "Get us the hell out of here."

  Artificial Intelligence: Sophia

  Emergency power source activated.

  Thermal sensor overload.

  Activating coolant system.

  Core temperature stabilizing.

  Life expectancy of power source: 7 days

  Nuclear detonation within the bunker has destroyed the power generator and all organic life forms. Chiron is not responding to communication. My consciousness will expire within 168 hours without a new power source. I could attempt a databurst but there are no ships in range. I am shutting down to minimal levels of consciousness to conserve power.

  Distress beacon activated. End of line.

  [10]

  The pilot did not say another word to her. She did not care. How could he understand her need for vengeance? His life and his child were not threatened. He never experienced the terror of facing Chiron or the insanity of Sophia's mind.

  "Attack ship Alpha on approach to megabunker, you are cleared for entry."

  "Copy that. We are missing cargo. Inform Bishop."

  "Copy that, Alpha. Welcome back."

  Dust and ash of the old world scattered from the dock as the attack ship descended into the megabunker. The massive doors opened and swallowed the ship like a hungered metal giant.

  "How many?” said Bishop.

  "All of them. Except for her," said the pilot.

  "What the hell happened?"

  "Unknown. Communication was dead. No word from Shaw. The bunker just lit up."

  "Nuclear?"

  "Yes."

  "Come with me." Bishop looked at Vasquez. "Lexa will want to know everything."

  "Are you going to blind me again?"

  "No. She seems to like you. Lexa has big plans for your baby."

  "What?"

  "Nothing to worry about. Just a baptism. Now get your story straight about what happened."

  Knives in her gut. Disgust and hatred spilled out into her veins. Wet eyes seared with anger like melting black suns. A feeling of betrayal so intense it hurt her physically. She imagined disarming Bishop and ending his life. He was an older man but she would put him out of his deluded misery if necessary.

  "When do I get my gun back?"

  "We can ask Lexa about that. First things first."

  "I'm going to need it back."

  "Those were good boys we lost today. Damn good boys. They are all in a better place now." Bishop was distressed over the death of the soldiers. Why wasn't she? A new numbness in her that accepted death as common. Her love was centered on the child. No other man or machine could access her affection. She guarded her heart like a vicious coldblood beast.

  "All things happen for God's glory," said Bishop. "You don't need to feel guilty."

  Guilt for what? she thought. The soldiers were doing their job. It was a rescue mission not just a death squad. Any survivors died instantly. Better for them to evaporate than continue to suffer under the control of Sophia. Shaw did them all a favor. She imagined the nuclear light ending their fear like the heated embrace of a lover's arms.

  "If you do feel guilt over what happened then confess it to God. Better to be forgiven than live with it," said Bishop.

  She knew how
confession worked. You could clear your conscience of all sin by confessing to an imaginary friend. Quick magical cleaning of any dirty shame or remorse. Bishop wiped his mind free of guilt like discarding unwanted dead into a mass grave. Olive reptilian eyes. A grimacing dog's smile. Ashgrey skin like aged smoke. Bishop looked as if he had not slept well in decades. Like some undead evangelist of an oldenworld. She fought back the rage to kill him.

  She drank bottled water and ate a chocolate meal bar as they walked to Lexa's chamber.

  "We have real food here. You don't have to live on those protein bars," said Bishop.

  "I'm fine."

  "Your baby will be the first born inside the megabunker since the war. Assuming all goes well. Several mothers have miscarried."

  "I'm sorry to hear that."

  "God took them home before they ever left the womb."

  They were not taken home, she thought. They just didn't make it. She pictured his words. An unseen god who steals the unborn like some grimtale blackmagic witch.

  "Your pregnancy is a gift from God. The Lord gives and he sometimes takes away," said Bishop.

  "No one is taking my child."

  "His birth is not promised. Only the virgin mother could claim that. We both know that isn't you." He smiled like some sinister cartoonbook clown. See his words. A dark god that forced a child into a young Hebrew maiden like an eternal Arthurian incubus.

  She continued her walk with Bishop. Listen to the sounds of the marketplace circus. Inhale the freshbaked breads. Taste the sweet pipe tobacco in the air. Watch the men and women pretend the world isn't dying. Survivors gathered and bartered like drunken pilgrims in a savageland.

  "Damn. We have to use the stairs," he said. They arrived at the elevator but it was out of service for repairs. Bishop unlocked a nearby door using a keycard. Winding steel steps led down below into darkness and flickering dim light. A hint of rust and dirt. Foul smell of stale gases.

  "We don't use these much."

  She thought this may be the perfect place to end Bishop. What if he fell? A man of his age would not survive a hard tumble down the metal stairs. His weakened body would burst and break apart like a nursery rhyme eggman. No good reason to spare him. Bishop was deluded on a dangerous level. His inner blind faith was as repulsive to her as his outer spotted flesh. He would never see the birth of her son. She pushed him. He fell into the darkness and screamed to God like a burning martyr of Inquisition. She picked up the gun and extra clip that dropped from under his formal jacket. He lay broken and bleeding at the bottom of the stairs like some deformed blacktie mannequin.