Trudging silently through the sludge and debris, Brian was keen on staying undetected.
Though he had a flashlight, and the tunnel was pitch black, Brian refrained from turning it on. He had two reasons for this. The first was that the batteries were a limited resource he must use sparingly. The second, he couldn’t risk someone, or something, noticing him. Of course, it had been years since the traitors had bothered coming down into the tunnels. Still, he had lost too much to carelessness.
Without much to do, Brian’s mind began to wander. He recalled visiting the Art Institute with his wife and daughter. Since they had taken the day off work, it wasn’t very crowded. They could see all the art without dealing with the weekend crowd. Though there were a few school children on field trips roaming the halls.
“Daddy, Daddy!” Ava squealed – stretching out her little fingers towards one of the paintings. “It’s a horsey!”
Brian gazed in the direction his daughter pointed. There was indeed a horse painted in exaggerated detail on the wall. The horse’s mane was wild with color, while it’s fur was gray and dull. Even though it was running over flat ground, it appeared as though it had just tripped. Like all the art in the post-contemporary wing, it left you with a sense of dread.
“Yes dear,” Brian replied, “very pretty!”
Brian returned to the present, counting his steps as he walked.
Forty one. Forty two. Forty three. Every time he got to a hundred, he started over at 1, keeping track of each cycle on his hand. Years earlier, his brother had left small patches of fluorescent paint to landmark every half mile. The sounds of his foot steps felt bigger now. He took a chance and reached for his light. With a quick flick, he took a look around.
Instead of the arched ceiling of the tunnel, there was now an infinite darkness above him. To his sides, the tunnel was now a large chamber. Like the tunnel, this chamber was carpeted with about a foot of mud and gravel. Without the maintenance of human hands, no one was around to clean and remove it. Wasting no time, Brian searched the chamber until he came across a dirty old rope. It was still hanging defiantly in the center of the chamber where they had left it. Looking up, he couldn’t make out where it lead. With a yank, it seemed to still be sturdy enough.
Rummaging through his backpack, Brian removed a climbing belt. After slipping his legs into it, he tied his backpack to the running end of the rope and he clipped himself in. Using his feet as anchor, Brian raised his arms to grip the rope above. Releasing his feet, he brought them to rest higher upon the rope. Inching in this way, he began to climb. Though he was weary, and older then he would like to admit, he made progress. When he felt tired, he took a break. He would use the climbing harness to arrest his fall. He had a small plastic water bottle clipped to his belt. He finished it off within the first hour, just below where the chamber seemed to slope inwards.
Exhausted, sweat beaded upon his face. He wiped it away. He had to keep going. Brian didn’t want the sacrifices he had endured to be for nothing. He started climbing again. With another heave, he felt his back bounce off the concrete wall. A section of it splintered off, and plummeted below. A few seconds later, he heard it shatter.
He decided to collect himself before continuing.
“This part of the museum seems too mature for her,” a woman spoke up from behind Brian. Both he and his daughter turned around.
Ava recognized her immediately. “Mom!” She screeched, running towards her. Lauren, the girl’s mother, had finally returned from the bathroom.
Brian smiled at his wife. “Oh it’s not so bad,” he dismissed, “I like the style. Besides, it’s good for Ava.” He glanced at his daughter, who was now running away towards something else in the museum.
“Still,” Lauren insisted, “it’s just so pessimistic.” She glanced towards one of the large paintings on the far wall. “Like that one over there.”
The painting was on a rather large canvas – covering almost a third of the wall. It depicted a man protecting his family from a pack of ravenous wolves. The woman behind him clutched a baby in one arm and held the hand of a small child with the other. They all seemed scared. The wolves had blood between their teeth. One wolf had a scrap of cloth between its claws – perhaps from a previous kill. In the background, the family had clearly pitched a tent right next to a ‘no camping’ sign. The man only had a small lighter to protect his family. A can of gasoline had tipped over and wetted the ground where they stood – both the wolves and family stood in the growing puddle. The scene was bright with color and drama.
Next to the painting, was a plaque noting its name: deterrence by Jean Delacroix.
“Seems a bit unrealistic,” Brian chuckled. “Who brings gasoline to go camping?”
The break was over. He needed to start climbing again.
With the wall much closer to him now, Brian could use his feet to brace against it. With practice, he pulled himself up much faster now. Brian knew that the rope was tied off inside a pipe connecting to the main shaft. Coming closer to the surface, he could see light leaking in from above. With one last heave, he pulled himself up and over the edge of the inlet pipe. Hunched over on all fours, he coughed and heaved with exhaustion. With a gasp, he rolled onto his back. He savored the respite.
Recovering for only a few minutes, he stood on his knees. The sewer pipe was smaller then the one below, he couldn’t stand straight up – there was only enough room to crouch. He looped one arm around one of the many interior running pipes and braced his feet against a seam in the concrete tubing. One arm length at a time, he began pulling the rope up. He let the loose rope lay behind him. When it seemed like forever had passed, his backpack appeared from over the edge. With a final heave, his kit joined him in safety.
He took a second to rummage through it. He had to make sure his grandmother’s notebook was still inside. When he found it, he relaxed a little. Sliding it back inside, he untied the backpack from the heavy rope and tossed the now free end back into the abyss.
He began to crawl.
Luckily, Brian didn’t have to crawl very far. He finally reached a section that connected to a large concrete box with a grate as a lid. Pushing it aside, Brian lifted his head into the dark depths of a basement. Looking around, Brian recognized it immediately. His brother had told him it was the sump pump or something – Brian didn’t remember what exactly.
Walking through the halls, there was just enough light peaking through the cracks in the ceiling to make out the details around him. He saw stacks of paper and office supplies. Everything was covered in a thick layer of concrete dust. Instead of being light and powdery, the dust was damp and dark like wet sand. As he ascended the stairs, he noticed graffiti on the walls. Though weathered, he could still make out the words
Fuck The Economy
Kill The Traitors
Love Humanity
The door to the first floor had fallen of the hinges. Brian stepped to the side as he entered. He took a second to listen. Then, he took another.
Silence. Nothing but silence.
Like the basement, the first floor was covered in the same concrete dust. With more sunlight, however, the dust was much lighter and covered in shrubs and grass. What might have been a couch was now covered in moss. The interior walls were still scorched where the fires had burned. Brian made his way towards the exterior wall. There was a large crack in the facade which allowed him to peer outside.
Most of the street was covered in rubble. This part of Chicago hadn’t been hit as hard as the rest, but the damage from falling debris and gunfire had left a mess out there. Brian took time to listen. Again, there was nothing.
He made his way outside, making sure to hug the wall and keeping himself below the ledge of the building above. He could see patches of blue sky above him. He was weary for this next part. For a third time, Brian listened for the sound of jet engines and propellers. It had been months since he had heard planes flying above. It was even longer since he had heard the whirl of a drone. He thought, to himself, that maybe the traitors had written off this part of the world as truly dead – devoid of human life.
Taking a look to his left and right, Brian sprinted to the other side of the street. He felt time slow down as each foot pushed against the pavement. When he finally made it, he clung to the edifice. Brian chuckled to himself. Even after everything, he still looked both ways before crossing the street. His parents made sure of it. He shivered and his face fell dark. The thought of family stung him.
Lauren tapped her phone against the kitchen table, as if to kick it into motion.
“Something’s gotta be happening,” Brian complained. He checked his own phone again. No luck, he still didn’t have service.
“Probably just too much traffic going over the network at once,” Lauren posited.
“You both worry too much,” Tyler replied. He was playing on the carpet with Ava – his niece. Being the younger brother, Tyler thought himself the funner of the two. “It’s probably nothing.”
“The whole moon exploded, Tyler,” Brian pointed out. “Callisto Bunker is gone.”
Tyler laughed to himself. “Yeah, probably the Zinkus device went off. Took out the moon like a firecracker in a soda can!”
“It wouldn’t look like that,” Brian responded, rolling his eyes. His brother was trying to be funny again.
“Brian,” Lauren took him by the arm. “I don’t like any of this. I can’t even call my parents to make sure they are ok. Maybe we should drive over to check up on them?”
“No,” Brian shook his head. “People might be panicking. We can’t even reach 911.”
“Oh my god,” Tyler interrupted. “I got a portable radio in my car. The old fashioned kind. Before you go running off into the dark, let’s try that first.”
Brian and his wife nodded. It was a good idea. Tyler got up from the floor and headed towards the mudroom to put on his shoes.
When they heard the door close, Brian turned to his wife. “Look, it’s very late. I’m worried about them too. But they’ll be safe at home. They’re probably complaining to the nurses about missing whatever show they wanted to watch.”
Lauren bowed her head. She knew she was panicking about the whole thing. “You’re right.”
Brian tilted his head. This was a moment to cherish – he hardly heard those words coming from her. “What was that dear?” he grinned.
Before she could respond, a buzzing came from their phones. Ava was still busy playing with her toys.
“Evacuation order?” Lauren read aloud. “Why would we need to evacuate?”
The door opened again. Tyler entered the room.
“Dude!” Brian snapped, “your shoes.”
“Oh sorry,” Tyler apologized, kicking each untied shoe off his feet.
Snap. Brian heard a noise that brought him back from the memory.
He looked one way down the street and then another. Stunned, Brian saw a brownish shape off in the distance. There was a creature of some sort. His heart raced, but he didn’t move a muscle. Graciously, the creature lifted its neck to reveal a long face. Still pumping with adrenaline, Brian gaped at the animal. It was just a horse. Moments later, Brian could see that the stallion was not alone. In the heart of downtown Chicago, a whole band of wild horses grazed on the grass growing between the cracks of asphalt. At once, they pranced away, oblivious to the human nearby.
Brian made his way around the wall until he found a shattered window he could climb into. This building was much darker than the first. Hesitating, he risked a glance with the flashlight. With a flick, the light revealed a horrible scene. The room was filled with charred remains. They might have been office workers, or refugees hiding. He did not know. Brian was used to the sight, so it didn’t startle him. Using the light, he found the way forward.
Making his way like this, Brian moved one building at a time. He was only a few blocks away now. The final building in his way, however, was unlike the rest. Instead of standing tall and proud, a monument to human achievement, this building had collapsed. Where there were windows and floors, now was open sky. The street below was filled with chunks of concrete.
Brian would have to find another way around.
Tyler activated the radio with a flick of a switch. Immediately, static came through the small speaker. Lauren and Brian anxiously leaned over Tyler’s shoulders.
“I don’t hear anything,” Lauren complained.
“Hold your horses,” Tyler urged. “There aren’t many stations left broadcasting.”
Tyler took a few seconds to search for a voice in the airwaves. For a brief second, they heard a voice break through the static.
“Go Back!” Lauren exclaimed.
Tyler reversed his wrist, going slower this time. The voice returned. It was clear and loud. “All listeners are hereby ordered to move immediately towards evacuation locations. Valid locations include hospitals, large sports stadiums, and airports. I repeat. All listeners are…”
“Same as on our phones,” Lauren interrupted the broadcast. “That’s weird.”
“There must be 15 million people in and around Chicago,” Brian posited. “Where will they all go?”
“Let’s keep looking,” Tyler announced. He kept sweeping the dial until they heard a new voice.
“…blew up Callisto. The econs broadcasted over the same frequency they used last time. That’s how…” the connection went static ”… sent demands…” again the connection went static “…only allowed 90 million…”
“It keeps cutting out,” Brian complained, “Can’t you fix it?”
“I don’t know,” Tyler responded, “I just bought the thing for camping.”
The voice on the radio again rose up against the noise. ”… not, I repeat, do not follow the evacuation…”
Brian had to figure away around all that debris. He could not stop now.
He had two choices. He could either risk going through the debris, or he could make his way through the remaining office buildings surrounding the wreckage. Fearing the open, he decided to take the longer path. A few of the streets were clogged with cars and roadblocks. He used these as cover. As he peeked over the last wall, he finally saw the hospital. Before moving forward, he took one last glance around. To his surprise, he was not alone. Next to the hospital, there was a park. And in that park, sat a man in a pristine white suit.
The man was looking straight at him.
Brian fell to the floor. Even at this distance, and Brian not peeking more than an inch over the ledge, he knew that the man had seen him. Some part of Brian’s animal brain knew that he was spotted. The game was up.
“Hello!” The man shouted. “I know you are there.”
His accent was vaguely English - though Brian wasn’t familiar enough with the British isles to pinpoint it exactly.
“Please,” the man announced, “I just want to talk.” He raised his hands in a submissive gesture.
All this effort. His wife was dead. His brother was dead. His daughter was dead. Perhaps he could run. But no, Brian thought, he was tired of running. Exhausted, Brian stood up into view.
“Oh!” the man beamed. “There you are! Why don’t you come down and join me.”
Brian stumbled over the garbage and rubble scattered over the street, until he finally made it onto the grass. He was in sunlight now. The sky above him was blue and the clouds white. The grass at this feet was green and healthy. He made his way to the picnic the mysterious man had laid out.
“You may call me professor,” the man stated.
Brian didn’t respond. He simply stared. The professor had white hair and a matching white suit. The table before him was draped with a checkered red and white table cloth and covered with food. There were trays of beans, pork, and Hawaiian rolls. It looked like an advertisement. Compared to the decay and dread of the city around them, and Brian’s state of dress, it felt like a cruel joke.
“Would you care to join me,” The professor asked – sitting at the far side of the table from Brian.
The assortment of flavors and scents produced a sharp growl from Brian’s stomach. It had been a long time since he had eaten anything fresh – something that had not come from a can. Brian sat opposite of the professor, but refrained from touching anything.
“Please,” the professor encouraged, “give it a try.” He gestured at the assortment of food between them.
“Who are you?” Brian responded.
The professor smiled - revealing perfectly straight bleached teeth. “There will be plenty of time to talk after you have eaten.”
Still concerned, Brian looked around him. Open blue sky hanged over him.
“No one will hurt you,” the professor assured. “If we wanted to, we would have already.” Another second passed, and Brian still didn’t move. Sighing, the older man plucked one of the chicken wings and took a bite. “See,” the professor promised between bites, “nothing is poisoned.”
Overcome by hunger, Brian began to gather food on the empty plate in front of him. He served himself cornbread, short ribs, and the baked beans.
“We noticed you kept coming around here every few weeks,” the professor explained, “we’ve been waiting for a while.”
Brian ignored the man in front of him. He spent several minutes sampling everything in front of him. Unfamiliar with such abundance, his gut ached as he stuffed himself.
“Now,” the professor said, “may I ask for your name?”
“Brian,” Brian responded, wiping the food from his face. In contrast to this mysterious man, Brian’s clothing was tattered and weathered. He was not unlike an animal in appearance.
“Good to meet you,” the professor leaned forward and knocked his knuckles on the table, “Brian.” As he grinned, the professor revealed a set of pearly white teeth. “I’d like to talk to you.”
Brian took another bite of his food. “About what?”
“The past and the future,” the professor posited. “We want closure now that it is done.”
Brian froze in place. A chill sped down his spine. After a beat, he sat down his fork. His weary eyes rested on the professor. He was focused now.
The professor sensed the tension, but it did not seem to affect his mood.
With a cold voice, Brian spoke bluntly. “All the people you rounded up are gone?”
“Yes, they were cleansed.”
“Cleansed?” Brian shouted - standing up as he slammed one fist on the table and another on his plate. The plate shattered.
“The universe is free of threat now.”
Brian pointed his finger at the man before him. “Fuck you,” Brian cursed.
The professor sighed. He reminded himself humans were prone to violence.
Brian leaned closer. “I don’t know what the hell this is,” he stated, “but if you’re telling me the truth… i will kill you.” Brian shook his head. “Arrogant fucking traitor.”
“You may try,” the professor stated, “but I am not a traitor, Brian”
Brian blinked. It wasn’t the response he expected. “You took the deal,” he responded, “you work for the aliens and YOU get to survive.”
“The ‘traitors’, as you call them, that made up the chosen ninety are all gone too.”
Brian sat down and let out a laugh. “You had them do your dirty work - and then killed them anyways?”
“We lied.” The professor raised his hands as if to say ‘so what’. “Humanity was just too dangerous, we had to get you down to a manageable size.”
Brian didn’t know whether to believe this mysterious man. But a part of him was happy to hear that those assholes died too. He hoped it was painful.
“Why not just blow up Earth like you did to Calisto?” Brian interrogated.
“Sentimentality, Brian,” the professor offered in response. “We place a high value on life.”
Brian scoffed. It was a funny thing to say after killing his entire species.
“No no,” the professor assured. “We just think differently then you humans. I know it’s hard to understand.”
Brian grew curious. “Who,” he gestured at the professor, “are you?”
The professor was pleased this man before him had taken the news relatively well. “I am what you might call an android or robot.”
“Of course,” Brian mused. “This is what… a sock puppet for your kind to control?”
“Yes,” the professor gleamed, looking down at his torso. “What you see before you is a drone or ‘sock puppet’ that I am controlling remotely.”
“Shame,” Brian mumbled, returning to the food in front of him. “Would have been cool to meet a real alien face to face.”
“Oh, we aren’t the face to face kind of species,” the professor confessed. “This is better for both of us. Trust me.”
Brian sighed. The conversation had gone long enough. “So, I’m the last one?” he inquired.
“Yes, the last woman passed away earlier this week in Daegu, Korea,” the professor declared. “It’s over.”
Brian smiled. “Didn’t want to keep any more of us around? Not even for a zoo?” Brian joked.
“Ha!” the professor laughed. “No, no, we don’t do that kind of thing.” The professor’s joyous face vanished, replaced instantly by a grave expression. In a much more serious tone, he stated “you were just too dangerous.”
“Because of Zinkus?”
The professor nodded. “Because of Zinkus,” he responded.
“Can I ask,” Brian inquired, leaned forward. “what do you want from me?”
“Well, since human civilization is effectively neutralized,” the professor stated. “we’d like to end hostilities.”
“Just like that?” Brian derided. “All is forgiven? I’m free to go? You won’t just drop a bomb tomorrow?”
“Like I said before,” the professor smiled. “We think differently than humans. We place a high value on life. Humans were dangerous, but you are not.”
Brian looked out at the ruins surrounding the park. This was what was left of humanity’s achievement. He thought about his wife Lauren and his brother. He remembered how his little girl would laugh when feeding ducks. “Ok,” Brian replied.
“Good!” the professor grinned. “We are glad to hear it.” The professor stood up from the table. “Earth will become a sort of nature reserve. You will not be harmed. No one will bother you. We give our word.”
The professor reached out a hand. But, Brian refused. With a bit of disappointment, the professor began walking away. He didn’t turn around.
When the professor was too far away to see. Brian got up quickly and ran into the nearby hospital. He had to move quickly to cover his tracks. There was no way he would trust anything they told him. He ran deep into the hall and turned on his flashlight. He found an opened room with almost nothing inside.
Searching around, Brian didn’t see anything that looked like a camera or listening device. He did find a small metal trash can. Emptying it, he placed it in the middle of the room. Brian dropped his backpack next to him. Since the enemy knew he was alive, he couldn’t risk them getting curious and searching through his things. Brian dug out the notebook.
“Brian,” Tyler pleaded - urging his brother off his feet. “We can’t stay here.”
The bomb blast had started several fires around them - lighting both of their faces red. People shouted in pain and agony all around them. Though Tyler tried, Brian would not get up from his knees. He was a broken man.
“No no no no,” Brian mumbled to himself. His eyes were wide with shock. Tears and snot mixed with the blood already on his face. “Please god no. I… no…”
Tyler couldn’t wait any longer. He started dragging his brother away into the cover of the forest. No sooner than he made it, he heard the loud ripping sound of low flying jets. As it flew over, the pilot ejected a large canister which sprayed liquid fuel into the air. After a few seconds, the bomb ignited and the now combined fuel air mixture combusted. Every person in the second building died instantly. The blast knocked Tyler and Brian to the ground.
Tyler got up first.
“Brian,” Tyler again pleaded. “We have to go!” He shook his brother by both shoulders.
Finally, Brian responded consciously. “Why? Why should… I go on?”
Tyler was speechless. What could you say to a father who had just lost everything? Tyler considered his words carefully before continuing.
“Because,” Tyler stated - pulling something out from his backpack. “Remember what Dad told us.”
Tyler pushed the red notebook into Brian’s view. Both men knew what that notebook represented. They knew what it meant. It was their family’s legacy.
In thick dark ink, their grandmother had titled her notebook ‘Property of Jane Avery’. It contained all her notes during her time as a student under Dr. Zinkus.
“It’s over for humanity,” Tyler clarified. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t make a difference.”
In short, the notebook was revenge.
Wiping away the memory, Brian began to tear pages free – crumpling them one by one. When he had a small pile, he took out a lighter and held it against one of the crumpled up balls of paper. When the flame became self-sustaining, it lit up the room like a torch. Quickly, Brian threw the ball into the metal can in front of him. One by one, he added fuel to the fire.
Although he had memorized every page, it was still a shame to burn something that belonged to his grandmother. Brian sighed. It would be alright. He removed the last page of the notebook and threw it into the flame. The fire grew brighter with the new kindling.
Brian laughed to himself. The whole thing was ironic. Grandma Jane had sacrificed so much to stop Zinkus. Yet, here was her grandson, Brian, undoing all that work. Today, he would salvage the magnets from the MRI machine. Tomorrow, he would go back and relocate his safe house.
Folding up the cardboard cover for the notebook, Brian carefully slid it into the burning paper. Though it was a setback, he had been making progress. It might take years, but he had just enough time to replicate his grandmother’s work.