The Darkness. Matt Brennan

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      Foreword

      A virus has decimated the entire planet’s human population. No treatment or vaccine could be found, and so contraction meant death.

      Humanity was forced to seek refuge in hermetically-sealed, self-sustaining bunkers, commonly referred to as “biospheres.” After the world’s power grid failed, survivors managed to establish a global satellite communications network, which allowed them to weave together a digital facsimile of their once thriving, now extinct, way of life.

      The disease, however, remained active and continued to spread, despite the survivor’s best intentions and inexhaustible precautions. It was therefore commonplace for connections to become broken. The people of the network began to call the silence that inevitably came at the end of the line: The Darkness.

      No one ever returned when The Darkness came to call.

      Until now...

      Scientific Fact:

      The origin of the AIDS virus has been traced back to two separate Simian Immunodeficiency Viruses (or SIVs). A single chimpanzee killed and ate two different species of monkey who were both infected with their individual species version of SIVs. Neither version of the virus was harmful to the chimp on its own, but those viruses, called lentiviruses, were retroviruses. Hence, they have a notoriously slow and sloppy replication process, which take place in the nucleus of a host cell. They use the host cell’s own genetic material to replicate, which allows for frequent mutations over a short period of time. One such mutation combined chimp’s DNA with parts of the two other viruses DNA. This new virus fooled the immune system into thinking it was, in fact, a part of the chimp’s own physiology. From that humble beginning, the virus spread throughout the chimp population much the same way HIV has moved through our own culture, with the exchange of bodily fluids. The trafficking of bushmeat (wild animal meat in Africa) is believed to be the cause of the transmission of SIVs to the human population, where it used the same melding process to transform itself into HIV (Human Immunodeficiency Virus). Experts refer to this phenomenon as “viral sex.” It is believed this genetic melding is how retroviruses have made the jump from one species to another since the beginning of time.

      CHAPTER ONE

       A horrifying smell chokes the air from my lungs as I step over the putrefying bodies littering the street under my feet. Everywhere I look, the dead are piled on top of each other. I pinch my nose, but the stench is so strong it penetrates through the skin and bone of my skull and goes straight to my brain. It’s so dense I can even taste the miasma of rotting flesh, decomposing garbage, and mold.

       I keep stumbling around until I spot an office building on my right, with a lobby that looks completely clear of the dead. I step over a pregnant lady and my foot lands on what looks like her 12-year-old daughter. Both corpses are still holding hands. I’ve been saying I’m sorry under my breath to all the dead people I’ve been stepping on, but as I get a look at the little girl’s gaunt face, the tears begin to roll down my face.

       I reach the door and try the handle, but it’s locked. I start banging on it and try to scream, but the sound is trapped in my throat. The aroma of decomposing flesh has sent my vocal chords into spasm. Through the glass, I can see not only is the lobby free of the dead, but there are a bunch of canned goods and even ramen noodles on a table just inside. My mouth starts to water and I bang harder.

       Behind me I hear a faint voice croak, “Help me.”

       I turn and the pregnant lady is staring at me with her hand out. I start to move towards her when her daughter looks at me and raises her hand as well. One by one all the dead surrounding the office-building door begin to open their eyes and reach out for me as well.

       There are way too many to count. I start to panic.

       Then, as if all on cue, they begin to stand and stumble towards me. The office building entrance, which seemed like a refuge a minute ago, is now caging me in.

      I spin back to the door and whale on it like there is no tomorrow.

       My mother and father walk out from the back of the building and wave at me. I scream for them, but again nothing comes out of my mouth. They embrace each other and my mom rests her head on my dad’s chest, smiling at me.

       I turn back to the dead just as they reach me. They are all croaking out, “Help me.”

       The 12-year-old grabs my arm and sinks her teeth into my wrist.

      ***

      I snap awake, breathless, and plastered to my sheets. Leaping from the warmth of my bed and into the frozen wasteland of the strange room I find myself in.

      I grab for the Louisville slugger I always keep right next to my bed and come up empty. I spin around desperately searching the pitch-blackness for some sanctuary from the horror I haven’t figured out I’ve left far behind in my dream yet. The numberless hordes of the sick and the dying all clawing at me, desperate for the salvation I could never hope to give, and leaving behind their rotting flesh and promises of certain death. As the reality of my situation begins to works its way through my sleep-ravaged brain, the air starts to flow into my lungs and my knees become rubbery and weak from the sudden burst of oxygen. I have to bend at the waist and grab my knees to keep from hyperventilating.

      I bump into the chair by the bed and collapse into it. By instinct my hand reaches out for the glass of water that isn’t there, which I usually leave on the dresser for this very moment. Adrenaline, after all, robs moisture from one’s mouth. The nightmares haunt my dreams like my dead parents do my every waking moment.

       Where am I again?

      I look at my dad’s watch. The glow-in-the-dark hands show that it’s 10 a.m. and the hour shocks me awake. I curse myself for oversleeping again. I should have been on the road three hours ago. I jump out of the chair and fumble around for the light next to the bed. Suddenly the room is filled with a horrible alarm and a red light I have never noticed before begins flashing over the door. I find the lamp in the dim red light and switch it on.

      I grab my shoes, sit back in the chair and stare at the red light wondering what it means. I shake my head and start to put my shoes on when the door slams open and Lyssa shouts at me, “Move it! We have a perimeter breach! Didn’t you see the light?”

      I know it’s rude, but I can’t help but stare. Every time I saw her before she was wearing that stupid baggy coat of hers, a ridiculously giant scarf, and that silly hunting hat with the earflaps. And if she wasn’t barking orders at me, it was because she was making fun of me for something stupid I did. So, truth be told, I kind of hated her and so I barely looked twice. But now she is standing in the doorframe of my room and she’s only wearing thigh high (and skin tight) shorts, an oversized white t-shirt with the neck cut away, and nothing else.

      My breath literally catches in my throat.

      The only girl I’m used to seeing on a regular basis is Ellie, and she’s a waifish girl, who never had enough to eat and hardly ever smiled. And she was also trapped in a bunker, so, like me, she’s pale and has dark circles under her eyes. I always thought she was beautiful, but other than my mother, she’s actually the only other girl I had really seen for a prolonged period of time.

       Until now. СКАЧАТЬ