Apocalypse Man

Author's Note: Fair warning, this story contains some strong language and dark themes. Nothing graphical or explicit of course, but be advised it is not intended for young children. Well, here we go...

   The sky is a constant shade of grey from one horizon to the other, but at least today it is a relatively light shade of grey. It is almost like a quilt covering the earth to keep it warm… but in this case it is actually doing the opposite. It must be around 20 degrees out here in the open. Fluffy particles are still falling everywhere, only to be lifted up and carried off by the wind so that they can fall again somewhere else. Some of them might be mistaken for dandelion seed puffs or snowflakes, but I know better. It is ash. All of it. Even so, it is serene and beautiful in a way. I keep my scarf wrapped around my face – it’s a strip of woven wool, dyed blue to match my eyes (according to my ex) though I don’t remember the color anymore because it is always covered in this grey soot. I don’t wear it because of the cold – it doesn’t bother me anymore – nor because I’m worried about breathing in the toxic gases which no longer pose any threat to me. I wear it because I don’t like the feeling of all that ash in my nose and mouth. It’s just uncomfortable to walk around with that stuff clogging all my holes. It is a very fine powder and it sticks to everything. It is quite similar to the dust produced from working with drywall and spackle, but the air is full of it so there is no escape, no respite.

    I walk silently through the city streets, the only sound I hear is my own breathing seemingly amplified by my constant state of vigilance. Even my footsteps are silent, muffled perfectly by the ash covering the ground. I have always had quiet footsteps though; some of my former coworkers would get a scare whenever I crossed their line of sight soundlessly, like a ghost. Perhaps now I really am a ghost? Who can say for sure? It is quiet now but I know from previous experience how quickly that can change, how those things like to ambush me whenever I drop my guard. So I have to stay alert at all times. The price for that focus is that the sound of my own breathing tends to give me a headache. Such is life, now.

    I remember what it was like before all of this. I remember thriving cities and verdant wilderness. I remember birdsong. I remember sunshine. I remember people, just huge crowds of them. All gone now. All laid waste by a mindless hunger that descended upon us from the stars. They are like sharks – all teeth and hunger and instinct. As such I cannot call them evil, but the results speak for themselves. After the people and wildlife disappeared – either eaten or else killed by lack of sunlight and food – those things started to turn on each other for sustenance. That was several months, maybe a year ago. It has been a few weeks since I last saw one of them, which tells me that their numbers are dwindling but there is no telling when or where the next one will appear. I swear they are like ninjas – they know exactly when and how to strike for maximum effectiveness with minimal risk to themselves. Perhaps they are a bit psychic. And they are terrifying, too. Too many legs, too many eyes, their movement too jerky. They look like something out of a child’s nightmare. Something resembling a spider or scorpion, with elements of lizard or shark as well. Just ugly, deadly, and hungry… that is all they are. They came in riding an asteroid – the same one that wrecked the climate upon impact. Whether that was intentional by design or just accidental on their part, nobody could say. But I have seen no signs of actual intelligence in them, no emotions – just hunger. Only ever hunger. And to anything that crosses their path, they are death on legs. So many goddamned legs.

    Aside from “apocalyptic nightmare,” what does it say about my state of mind that I’m thinking about them on this day – the most beautiful weather and the quietest I’ve seen things in a long time? I feel like I should be strolling and thinking happy thoughts, like remembering my first kiss which happened in a city much like this one, on a bench by a riverbank. Instead I’m focusing my thoughts on nightmare spider-sharks from space that I haven’t encountered in weeks. This can’t be normal. At least it shouldn’t be normal. Yet here we are. Or here I am, at least: the last living thing on Earth, so there is no more “we” and I should probably get used to that fact. Although to be honest I’m not sure if I actually qualify as “alive” anymore. I definitely don’t qualify as “human” anymore, at least not entirely. Maybe I really am a ghost now? Just a memory made physical? It’s possible. After all, I’ve been killed a dozen times but I’m still here, lingering and wandering aimlessly on a dead world. Perhaps this is hell after all.

    I don’t think my resilience has anything to do with my own biology or state of mind. This is not a super-hero comic book. If I had to blame it on something specific, I would have to assume it is due to the nanites that inhabit my body. The technology was still fairly new when I received my dose of them, but it was already widespread. Reports claimed that roughly 2/3 of the population in the US and Canada was given nanite therapy. The goal was to make life easier for people: help us heal faster, prevent diseases like cancer and AIDS, regulate metabolism to fight obesity, and provide feedback to healthcare providers who would be continuously tweaking their performance specifications. They weren’t supposed to be a “miracle cure” or anything of the sort, just a chance to live healthier lives for people with various risk factors.

    It wasn’t supposed to be like this. The nanites weren’t supposed to make people immortal. Obviously they didn’t make anyone else immortal, I mean look at this empty city – there are hundreds more just as empty that I saw in my travels these past few years. Everyone is dead. I am the last. I fought those things off several dozen times, and more than once they won the fight and I was clearly dead for all practical purposes. Not to mention the climate changes since the impact – every volcano erupted at the same time and they say that central Europe essentially became one giant crater that has since flooded and connected the Arctic Ocean and the Mediterranean Sea. The asteroid was the size of Kentucky and the impact was so powerful that the magnetic poles shifted their positions. I think I actually suffocated to death a few times in the beginning, from the ash. And since then I should have frozen to death several times over but I barely even notice the cold anymore. Hell, I’ve even tried to end my own life a few times, using several methods. Yet here I am, still walking and thinking and talking out loud to myself. 

    No, it wasn’t supposed to be like this and it isn’t fair. It isn’t fair! All this death and destruction, everyone I knew is gone, everything I knew is gone, but I’m still here. God, why won’t you just let me die? Why must I endure this hell? Why must I exist alone here? I can’t even starve because these nanites draw nutrients from the air and the soil and whatever else is nearby. (Oh, how I miss FOOD. There is nothing left to eat here, at least nothing that I would care to put in my mouth.) They are changing me. They let me breathe the toxic air and drink the radioactive water. They give me sharper senses than before. I don’t know what they are turning me into, and I don’t even know anymore if it’s me or them that’s actually alive here, but clearly their will to live is stronger than mine. Clearly it’s some kind of malfunction. And for the life of me I can’t figure out why they are so intent on keeping me alive. I mean, who am I in the grand scheme of things? Why do I get to survive when nobody else does? Why do I have to survive in this shitty world? It isn’t fair and I hate it. Look at this, I’ve been walking for a solid 6 mph for the last 8 hours and my legs aren’t even tired. It’s them, they did this to me. They made me into this… this freakish monster. I’m not human anymore. What am I!?

    Suddenly I’m holding my breath, listening intently for another sound. I heard something not too far off; may have been some rubble settling or it may have been something far worse. Clearly those spider-sharks cannot kill me, but it really hurts when they attack so I’d like to avoid that if at all possible. Just like most people try to avoid sticking their arm into a belt sander, it’s just common sense. Another sound… my eyes track down the source and I see movement. But it looks like it’s just an old awning collapsing under the weight of all that ash that settled on top of it. Still, I wait for a minute just frozen in terror, waiting as much for evidence of real trouble as for my heartbeat to calm the hell down. Finally it seems like things are normal here, my lizard-brain calls the all-clear, and I turn around to keep walking. I’m still not sure where I’m going, there really is nowhere to go and I’ve crossed the continent seven or eight times already. It just feels best if I keep moving. But it’s getting dark and soon I’ll have to find some kind of hole to hide in for the night. For now though, until my heart rate goes back to normal, I’ll just take it one step at a time.

    Left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot, left foot… OH MY GOD NO IT’S ONE OF THEM IT’S GOING TO EAT ME – RUN RUN RUN RUN AWAY, RUN AWAY NOW!! OH SHIT, IT’S ON ME, IT’S EATING MY ARM!! THAT’S IT, I’M DONE FOR!

    …..

    Oh, man, that hurts. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this, waking up after dying from being eaten by space monsters. This sucks. Well, better take inventory I suppose. I can’t see… probably my eyes are not done being rebuilt yet. I can’t feel my legs – only pain there. Probably still missing in action. I think I have an arm that’s functional… oh shit my face isn’t there. Just my entire face… gone. I really hate those things. They’re like a meat grinder on legs. I think I’ll just lie here for a few hours, then get back up and keep on walking. 

    But, seriously, why can’t I just – fucking – die already? I rue the day that I got these nanites. No, that’s a lie it was actually a pretty uneventful day otherwise and I like uneventful days. But I definitely rue every day I’ve had to survive this crazy new world. God, please just kill me and be done with it! No answer? Well then I’m going to pass out now and I just pray that I’m dead before I wake up again. I can’t take this shit anymore. I just can’t. I … just … can’t.