Blood In The Water . Preface
Preface
Get out.
The explosion was miles away, but the waves still shook the metal walls keeping them alive. Dust and dead flies lying on the beams above them fell with every shockwave, the rattling metal becoming louder and more prominent as the bombs fell closer to their target, triangulating them, trapping them in.
Get us out.
“This is so fucking bad.” he was so scared his voice shook, but after he said it, the ground went quiet and the bombs stopped dropping. Panic spread through the bunker, all seven occupants froze where they sat, stood or lied curled into themselves. A woman with long dark hair stalked over, flinging out her hand and clapping it over the offenders mouth so hard the sound echoed off the walls. She dug her nails into the skin of his cheeks, leaning in to him so close that their noses scrapped.
“You make one more noise and I’ll snap you’re fucking neck,” her voice was low, dangerous and slightly wistful. She was too young to be fighting a war, too young to be leading it. Her nails were staring to draw blood.
Why wont you help us.
“Calm down, darlin’.” a soft voice, behind her, his face caked with blood and still screaming in pain, reached out and gripped the younger girls shoulders, pulling her away from the poor man. “Cursin’ don’t suit you.” He let her go when she was a safe enough distance away, but she kept stepping back, kept going until she hit the wall behind her with a dull thump of bare skin against metal. She leaned against the wall, next to a tall man with shaggy dark hair and a gash that ran the length of his arm, still bleeding steadily. He glanced down at her, watching turmoil and rage and pain filter through her eyes. They darkened when he wrapped his hand around her wrist, heavy and there.
“They aren’t looking for us anymore,” he said softly, but loud enough so that the rest of them could hear. “They did what they came to.”
The man with nail marks carved into his face crumpled into the ground at his words, burring his face into his hands and letting out a choking sound. The three other occupants who stood next to him stood stalk still, unmoving, but their eyes hardened with rage.
“We live to fight another day,” growled one of them, the biggest. His eyes flashed green as he turned his head. They were soldiers, weapons, animals-
‘Nomalies.
They were fighting three wars at once. They had to stand together or they all would fall. River turned her head to the side, tilting it up to look at Sam, her eyes still dark and filled with pain, with tears.
“We have to look for survivors,” she said, “Before the demons get here to invade their souls and drink their flesh.”
“What about Reavers?” said the man, sitting on the ground, finally looking up. He couldn’t have been more than fifteen, but he was still a man, in this war, there were no children.
“Well then, we’ll just have to pick ‘em off,” said Mal, lifting his weapon to his shoulder. He turned to the ‘Nomalie, the biggest one. In the dark it was hard to tell, but the pale white skin and pointed ears were unmistakable. “Get ready to run.”
“We’re always ready,” he grunted. Beside him, a pretty red head handed him a rifle. “How much amo we go, Missy?”
“We’ll have more in a few minutes.”
“We have to go now,” said River, twisting her wrist in Sam’s hand nervously. He nodded and pulled away, turning to the door and putting his weight into the rusting wheel. One complete turn and the door swung open, letting in bright lights and the smell of sulfur, burning flesh, and the tang of the apocalypse. It was clear the Conclave had swept through, but they hadn’t been very successful. Sam and River stepped out first, followed by the transgenics and finally Mal. They stayed clear of the bodies, the flesh of unfortunate Ordinaries still being eaten away.
River knelt down next to a woman with dark curly hair, her dress splattered with blood and her face cut to hell. River pressed her fingers against the woman’s neck, looking for a pulse while Sam stood behind her, watching. He waved Mal over when River looked up at him.
“Inara.”
.
So this is what the end of the world feels like, mused Max, covering her mouth with one hand as it rained spores down on her and Alec, standing next to her with a stony expression marring his pretty face. He flicked the Conclaves idea of apocalypse off his coat and glanced at Max.
“It’s your turn.”
Max nodded and stepped up next to the fence separating them from the Conclave. It was just an office building, surrounded by chain link fence, barbed wire, and creepy people in robes holding snakes.
“I hate this part,” grumbled Max, taking a knee and dropping the duffle bag she was carrying onto the ground. She unzipped it, pulling out a pack of C4, a few wires and a stick of cherry flavored bubblegum. She popped the gum in her mouth and picked up a glock, holding it out for Alec to take.
“I thought you said you grabbed them all?”
“Musta forgotten one.”
“Whatever, Alec. You got my back?” He smirked at the back of her head.
“Always.”
They had blow apart two of these places so far. Places the Conclave had set up in areas where transgenics had cumulated. The first one had been right outside Seattle, the second had been in Eugene, Oregon where a few Marine transhumans had set up a community, this one had lead them into South Dakota. Alec had commented on the increase of trannie haters since they had crossed the border, cracking uneasy jokes about how the Conclave could just leave it up to them to finish their people here. Max hadn’t answered him, she had barely spoken to him through the trip, just let him prattle on until he was sick of hearing himself talk.
Alec glanced over her shoulder as she set the wiring for the bomb. “We all set?”
“Five by five,” said Max standing up again. She glanced under her eyebrows at the building and the cult loonies in front of it, making sure they weren’t noticed. Alec picked up the duffle bag and moved to toss it behind them, next to their bikes.
“Alec?”
“Yeah?” Alec tossed over his shoulder, not looking back at Max as he arranged a piece of bush against their stuff. He looked over at her when she didn’t reply and frowned at her, just staring at the cult building. “What is it, Max?”
“It’s another one of those things.” Alec started, blurring back to Max’s side, zooming in past the fence at the cult, seemingly running around in a panic, away from a black cloud, crackling with lightning.
“Shit.”
“Let’s go,” snapped Max, looking down at the device in her hands and setting it. Alec looked at her, squinting as the wind picked up, kicking up the dirt.
“What the hell are you doing?!” shouted Alec
“Blowing this mother, it’s why we’re here!” Max shouted back, reeling her arm back and throwing the explosive over the fence and into the mêlée of black and Conclave members. Alec stepped into Max’s space, his shoulder brushing against hers as he stared at the impending explosion. They could feel the heat from the blast wash against their faces, narrowing their eyes against the bits of flesh and debris that flew at them. Alec felt something warm inside him swell with something like pride and he could feel Max smiling.
“Fenos’tol, bitches.”
.
“You look uncomfortably familiar.”
“Oh trust me, I’d remember a face like yours.”
Jayne used his teeth to tear off the end of the bandage wrapped around his arm, glancing up at his companions in the front of the boat…or car, as it were. He tossed the remaining gauze at them, watching as it bounced off the head of the scaly, green thing he was learning was called a Transhuman. Mole rolled red eyes onto Jayne, pulling his cigar out of his mouth and flicking ashes in his direction.
“Hey, hey, not in the car!” shouted Dean, glaring at Mole. “I will throw your scaly ass out of here-”
“I would love to see you try, ape.”
“Who are you calling an ape?!”
Jayne leaned forward in his seat, resting his forearm on his knees as he squinted out the windshield at something in the distance. “Reavers.”
“What the hell is a reaver?” snapped Mole, turning around in his seat to look at Jayne.
“Government experiment. Made normal humans mad out of their minds. They go around killin’ folk, cuttin’ on themselves, eatin’ people. Ain‘t right.”
“They’ve got someone,” said Dean, slamming his foot on the gas, driving straight at the pack of reavers. They looked up at the sound of the Impalla, roaring, blood covered heads thrown back, pulling away from their victim. One or two of them weren’t wearing clothes, five in total, ripped at each other as they ran towards the car, hitting the bumper and the windshield as Dean drove through them, screeching to a stop just in front of the person on the ground. Dean pulled out his gun from the waistband of his jeans, Jayne picked up Vera and Mole settled his shotgun on his shoulder, kicking the passengers side door open and stepping out.
“Don’t you have a pretty face,” he said around his cigar, cocking his shot gun and firing directly into the face of a reaver coming at him. Jayne picked off another as he stepped out of the car, and Dean took out two with one shot, blowing out the back of their sculls. He turned to look at Mole and Jayne, already standing over the person on the ground.
“She’s alive,” said Mole gruffly. The woman sat up, glaring at him.
“Of course I’m alive. I can handle my own.” Dean moved around his car, and froze.
“Bela?”
One Hundred Eighty-Six Hours and Thirty Seven Minutes ago
December 31st, 2011
11:58, pm
Two minutes until the end of the world.
Dark hair and dark eyes and blood smeared down pale arms stared hard at a metal door in front of her. The fighting and screaming and murder behind her was lost to her ears as she stared in front of her. The gun in her hand glistened in blood and sweat, her fingers tightening around the handle as she pondered on how exactly she was supposed to open the door in front of her.
Dark eyes blinked and refocused on something much closer and much more personal, her lips parting and a whoosh of breath escaping them. She whirled on the spot, her eyes following something unseen. She stopped suddenly, her hospital gown twisting around her legs, the paper shoes she wore, crinkling and ripping along the bottom. She reached her hand out for that unseen something, her fingers dancing in mid air.
“I can see you.”
Sam blinked his eyes open, his breathing labored. This was the clearest he’d ever seen her, the girl in the hospital. He coughed, turning over on his side to catch his breath before sitting up slowly to inspect the damage. His nose bleeds were getting worse, the blood matting his hair to the side of his face and staining the pillow he’d been sleeping on. He groaned, lifting his wrist to his forehead and rubbing his brow, trying to knead the headache out.
He was getting closer to her, that much at least he knew.
.
“We have to do something, Max, we can’t just sit around waiting for them to round us all up, or worse: exterminate us!”
“You don’t think I know that!?” Max shouted back, standing up so quickly her chair flew backwards, slamming her hands against the table between her and Alec. Mole was sitting between them, looking a mixture between amused and annoyed. “Who’s idea was it to stand and fight? Mine. And look what that’s got me!”
“Us, Max,” growled Alec. “It’s not just you anymore, it’s us.”
“Which is why I’m suggesting that you and I get our asses in gear and blow up this mother,” said Max, glaring across the table at Alec who paused, his mouth hanging open in a retort. He closed it slowly and straightened his back.
“You n’ me?”
“That’s what I said.”
“What about TC?” asked Alec, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes. Max shrugged.
“Mole’s in charge.”
“Aw, crap!”
“Shut up, Mole.” snapped both X’s, still staring at each other. Alec smirked.
“And what if Mole skips out?”
“Dix and Logan can handle it. Chill, Alec, we’re covered.” Alec stared at her for a moment, okay, he took a couple moments, because really, this was a big deal. He couldn’t just drop everything to go on a road trip with Max blowing up Conclave facilities. He had responsibilities now.
Paper work, or road trip? Breaking up rioting transgenics, or racing Max down endless stretches of road?
Logan, or no Logan?
Alec grinned at Max, folding his arms across his chest and leaning back on his heels.
“When do we leave?” Max opened her mouth to answer when Mole stood slowly from his chair, moving to the barred window behind Max, staring out into the night sky.
Or what was supposed to be sky.
.
There was something unsettling about watching the minutes count down to midnight, especially when it was counting down to the end of the world.
Dean was listening to Hot Blooded, singing along to the lyrics quietly to himself as he drove down a pitch black road, only one of his lights working. It hit the ‘Welcome to Washington’ sign for a split second, letting Dean know that he wasn’t actually driving down a road leading to nowhere.
The clock on the dashboard turned 12 o’clock and the music cut out. Dean frowned, glancing away from the road and at his dash, tapping the radio a couple times before looking back up at the road.
About a hundred feet away from him something glittery was standing in the road, more like forming in the road, in the shape of a woman, with long hair and little clothing. Dean’s eyebrow rose and he slowed to a stop, moving the car off to the side of the road and turning it off. He climbed out, the cold January wind gusting into his jacket. Narrowing his eyes, Dean tried to make out what was in the road, if it was a ghost or what. Completely corporeal, the woman started to dance.
“Oh crap.”
With every step the earth shook, with every flick of her wrist, the wind moved faster, every turn her body made the trees and rocks and the air would shake and whine. Dean stared open mouthed at the dancing woman. Kali turned on her heel, throwing her head back to stare up at the sky, her eyes lighting up with the stars. Dean looked to, carefully, and watched the space between the earth and the sky split open and nothingness come pouring in and sucked back out. This process continued until Dean started to feel lightheaded. He closed his eyes when the wind started to scream.
Every thing was black and white and silent. The kind of silent that makes you nervous and know, just know that something terrible is going to happen.
The year 2012 is when the year was said to end. At midnight on January 1st, 2012 Kali walked on Earth and danced. It is said that when Kali dances the world is to end. Up from the black pits of hell, demons slipped through the cracks. The Conclave foresaw it to happen, and their advanced breeding allowed them to walk freely among the possessed. Doctor Sandeman gave his transgenic the same genetic coding, to walk among those possessed and to save humanity. His project was supposed to be for the greater good, but it spiraled out of control and 500 years later it was used to make people better, only they weren’t people. The outer planets called them Reavers, the core planets called them myths. There was a rift opened up when the clock turned to midnight, when times melded together and everything suddenly made sense. The Reavers bled out across Earth That Was, mistaken for a bred of transgenic called X-3 while the Conclave took advantage of the rift to take over the government and the demons sought fit to slip into skin.
The year 2012 is the year the world is supposed to end.
But it is only the beginning.
Part I