Cloak & Laser (Episodes 1-3)
A preview of the story I'll be posting that is exclusive to Substack.
Episode I: Sans Animo
The man opened his eyes. Only his right eye would open. It was blinded by bright whiteness. His vision was blurry, and he struggled to roll over from his face down position. The heat was excruciating, and it felt as though his entire back from head to toe was sunburned. It was painful to move, and it took a few attempts to get onto his side. He was in some kind of sand. He rubbed his eyes, but it hurt to rub away the encrusted sand keeping his left eye closed. The skin was raw, his lips were parched, and also crusted together. Everything about him felt miserable and ached.
It took him several attempts to squint his eyes just right to be able to see, and even then, everything wiggled and writhed in the rising waves of heat. Every part of the white sand he touched where his body hadn't been lying, burnt his dry and sensitive skin. He couldn't understand where he was, let alone how he had gotten there. In fact, he couldn't remember anything prior to that moment. To top it off, he was completely naked. What the actual fuck? He carefully rubbed his sunburned neck. It was cricked from laying on his stomach for so long. He managed to sit up and tried to brush away the incredibly fine sand, but found that it irritated his skin and he quickly gave up on it.
Despite how thirsty he was, his first priority was to find shelter. The pure white sand reflected the sun's rays, intensifying the heat. He could already feel the symptoms of heat exhaustion. He still struggled to see any landmarks of any kind, and he couldn't shake the thought that someone left him out here to die. He looked up to see that the sun was at midday and his short, jet black hair tickled his eyelashes. His sweat soon crept into his eye and it burned, forcing him to rub at it. That was when he heard a strange noise. It sounded distorted, but close enough to warrant investigation. It coerced him to finally attempt to stand up. The man felt a bit swimmy-headed and weak, but he was able to keep his feet underneath him. He wobbled a bit as he looked around and could now see that he was surrounded by several dunes that looked more like hills.
An ocean of mirage lay before him, reaching to the base of each hill in the distance. It had a chrome-like shimmering effect. He felt as though he couldn't squint hard enough. The sound occurred again, only this time it was closer. It sounded like guttural gurgling and it sent a chill up and down his spine. He frantically searched for the source, but every way he looked, there was just the ocean of mirage. His breathing became ragged and quickened. He felt very vulnerable and defenseless. The gurgling sound intensified, and in between those sounds, he could hear a dragging sound. He could tell it was coming from in front of him now, but he still couldn't make it out. It was a dark blob against the glistening sea of mirage.
Before long there was a pause in the dragging sound and then he heard a spitting sound. He held his breath as there was a moment of silence. Next, a large blob of yellowish-green goop landed a couple of feet away, and some of it splashed onto his foot. It immediately began to burn his foot like a weak acid. "Mmmmm!" He fell back onto his butt and hands and scrambled back away, not caring about the incredibly hot sand. He was quickly motivated to get up and run, but his pace was painfully slow. It was about as fast as a power walk. It wasn't long before he was forced to open his lips, which cracked and bled, adding to his misery. He couldn't imagine what he had done to deserve this. His sweat crept into the new wounds, and the salt burned them further. It was something new to focus on, other than the heat on his feet, the sunburn all over his backside, his cricked neck and upper back. He would never wish this upon his worst enemy, whomever that may be.
It wasn't long before he lost his balance due to diminished mental capacity, and he tripped over his own feet just as he reached the base of one of the hills. This one had a particularly flat top to it and it was only about eight feet high. The hot sand burned all of his skin, but he felt it on his penis the most. He got to his hands and knees as fast as he could and looked back to see if it had gotten any closer. Everything was still a blur, and his heavy breathing made it hard to focus. His head drooped and he scrunched his eyes in frustration. He looked up the hill and wondered if he had the strength to make it. Every muscle ached, and this meant touching more of the hot sand. It was all just too much. A wave of existential dread washed over him, and the thought of collapsing and just giving up weighed heavily upon his conscience.
Is this how it ends? The gurgling got louder and it sent a chill throughout his entire body. He let out a slight whimper and then a loud growl. The tearing sensation flared in his tear ducts, but there were no tears. The dry air burned his opened tear ducts. He scrunched his eyes, not only from the pain, but he thrust his arms up and dug into the sand. He could feel the fine, gritty sand embed into his nails. It felt like pins and needles stabbing the sensitive flesh underneath. He had to ignore the pain, putting every bit of effort into climbing the shallow hill. It was just steep enough that it caused him to slip and lose his footing.
He paused for a moment to catch his breath and wait for his muscles to stop aching. The spitting sound occurred again, and he didn't hesitate climbing again. This time he had more motivation, and he managed to begin ascending. Splat! The blob missed him by a few feet, but it landed on the hill next to him, and he scrambled harder to get out of range and on top of the hill. He hoped, whatever this thing was, that it wouldn't be able to follow him up the hill. Everything burned; the sun on his sunburned back, the heat and irritation of the sand, his muscles. Is this what life is? He couldn't imagine very many people surviving this world if that's the case.
The man reached the crest of the hill with one hand and as it dug into the sand, he felt a smooth, cool surface. It allowed his hand to grab it, and with that, he was able to pull himself over the crest. Just in time to hear another splat, which couldn't have missed his feet by much. He frantically got to his hands and knees and peered down the hill. What he saw defied description. The grotesque creature didn't seem to be attempting to climb the hill and he breathed a sigh of relief. It looked somewhat like a wolf, only the head was nearly torn off and looked dead. The gurgling came from the open esophagus, and he could see bubbles foaming to the top. The legs of the wolf didn't seem to work, and its large intestine was coming out of its end like a hideous tentacle. It flailed it toward him, but it was well short. He wrinkled his nose, then his eyes widened as he saw it spit another yellowish-green blob.
He had seen enough and turned to get further away. His muscles burned with every inch of effort and he soon collapsed, which knocked the wind out of him. He sobbed. Still no tears would come, but they were dry tears of relief and sorrow. He pounded his fist and heard a loud hollow thud which resonated. His vision had not improved, but just a few feet in front of him, there was a strange squarish feature creating a small rise in the sand. He exhaled, then took a deep breath as he tried to crawl toward it. The pain was overwhelming and the heat penetrated every pore on his weather-beaten skin. He managed to get a hand onto the small rise, then everything went black.
Episode II: Unlikely Saviors
Jaiko slowed his hoverpod to a stop as it reached the apex of the large sandy hill. He peered through his shaded lenses at the barren, white landscape. The 'Big Bowl', as it is locally known, sprawled before him. The sun was near the horizon as he faced west, making it harder to see. He slowly perused the flat land below, careful not to miss anything. Being a kobold of the guinea pig variety, his vision wasn't very good, and mixed with the sun's glare, it was near impossible to see any detail. Luckily, anything not white in color would show up in stark contrast to the snowy-white landscape. Jaiko's nose twitched as he sniffed the stale air, but without any wind, there was nothing to smell. Then he saw a blurry, dark spot far off in the distance. He uncontrollably let out a wheek -- a high-pitched, rising sound similar to a whistle.
He whipped his head back from where he had come, "Gresh! I found something! Quick, fetch me the spyglass!" Jaiko's high-pitched, tinny voice sounded much like a wheek when he yelled.
Gresh struggled up the hill. His large maren frame made him perfect as a beast of burden. [Maren - an aquatic and terrestrial humanoid race resembling several species of shark. Most types reach seven feet or taller. The great white variety can reach upwards of ten feet. Gresh is of the hammerhead variety and is almost eight feet tall.] He had two large seabags, one on his back and one on the front. Several other backpacks and duffle bags, large digging tools, and waterskins were strapped and buckled onto his back and most of the bags were full. A literal mountain of gear on a mountain of a man. Gresh gave a short sigh, but it was a happy sigh. When Jaiko gets excited, it almost always means something good. Gresh's large, webbed, bare feet dug heavy into the hot sand as he picked up his pace. Gresh had lived in District 4 for most of his life, and his feet had become immune to the heat and irritation of the white sand. He used his tenfoot as support and grunted with every step. [Tenfoot - A ten foot long spear. Gresh's is a slightly larger version with a thicker shaft and oversized spearhead.]
Jaiko flipped up one of his shaded lenses to try and see the object better, but the heat waves obscured it too much, but he was sure that there was something down there. He let out a frustrated sigh before turning to look back at Gresh once again. He was still 30 feet away and Jaiko couldn't wait any longer. He spun the hoverpod around in place and its quiet motor hummed along. The matte grey, semi-spherical pod leaned forward as it carried Jaiko down the hill. Going downhill, the hoverpod moves faster, and it didn't take long for Jaiko to meet up with Gresh, whom had stopped to rest when he saw Jaiko approaching. When he was close enough to not have to shout, he impatiently asked, "Where is the spyglass?"
Gresh couldn't speak, or rather, he chooses not to speak. There was an accident that occurred when he was young that caused him to bite off a good portion of his tongue. He never learned to speak much before it happened, on top of the fact that he can't pronounce most words correctly anyhow. He did his best to motion toward the right side of his belt, but he couldn't see that part of the belt, and didn't notice that the spyglass case was hidden behind a large pouch that was nearly overfilled with useful scrap parts.
"I don't see it. Is it on the other side?" Jaiko asked. He peered with his left eye at Gresh's right eye, and he could see the worry and confusion. It only fed his frustration, and he deftly maneuvered the hoverpod around him, only Gresh turned around at the same time. "Ugh. Hold still, you big galoot!"
Gresh's posture waned as he let out an inaudible sigh.
"I don't see it here either. Where is it, Gresh?" Jaiko didn't have a brow to furrow, but Gresh could sense the frustration and impatience in his tone.
Gresh shook his head, then switched the tenfoot to his other hand so he could feel along the right side of the belt. He always kept it on that side, but Jaiko never paid any mind to such things. He could feel the case under the pouch and he tried to pry it aside, but the tension on its strap holding it to the belt was too great and it fell to the ground spilling most of the small scrap inside. Some of the more rounded objects rolled down the hill a ways.
Jaiko had whipped around to his right side again, "Dammit, Gresh! I told you that pouch was too full. Ooh, there it is!" Jaiko frantically unsnapped the case top and yanked out the spyglass. He quickly turned to go back up the hill and yelled, "I expect you to recover all of those pieces!"
Gresh let his head droop and faceplant into the coyote brown seabag on his chest. It was going to take forever to gather all of the pieces into the pouch that he would now have to carry by hand. If only Jaiko could help, but he knew the sensitive pads on his hands and feet couldn't handle the burning sand. He carefully knelt down to gather the nearby pieces. He was more than capable of carrying all the weight on his back, but the bulk of it all could easily cause him to tip over.
Meanwhile, Jaiko had reached the crest of the hill once again. He fumbled with the spyglass to extend it, then put it up to his right eye; the eye that can see marginally better. He strained to see better, but everything seemed dark. He exhaled a sigh and flipped his shaded lens up and returned the spyglass to his eye. It took him a moment to aim it correctly, but when he concentrated on the object, it was unmistakably a humanoid figure. He felt the excitement grow, but he kept looking around the person to make sure there were no aboms around. His body rumbled with excitement and he spun the hoverpod around and sighed when he saw that Gresh had yet to begin recovering the pieces that had rolled away. "There's a person down there! Hurry up, Gresh, it will be dark soon!"
There were a lot of reasons for them to want to hurry. It was dangerous enough to be on the surface during the day, but at night, the aboms come out in full force. If it's not them, it's the giant nighthawks that will get you. On top of that, if the person was still alive, they likely didn't have much longer to live without care. At this rate, they would be cutting it close and Jaiko spun around to go help Gresh pick up the pieces with his extended grabbing claw.
* * * * *
The air had cooled nearly ten degrees by the time they reached the flat top hill. The sun was barely a sliver above the large hill to the west, and Jaiko flipped up both of his shaded lenses on his goggles. He sniffed at the humanoid lying on the ground. "Eww... Definitely a human. I don't know what it is about humans, but they stink."
Gresh giggled at that and watched as Jaiko pulled out a small mirror from his zippered vest and attached it to the end of his grabber claw. He reached to put the mirror in front of the man's nose and it fogged up and Gresh's eyes lit up.
"Well, he's still alive. Roll him over."
Gresh used his tenfoot as leverage along the man's upper arm and gently laid him over onto his back. The man's front was covered from head to toe with the white sand, but even if they knew him, they would not be able to recognize the person that lay before them.
"We're going to need to base him up. That sand is going to eat away at his skin."
Without notice, Gresh sat hard onto the ground in preparation of removing all the gear. The basing solution was not readily available. When he landed, they both heard the thundering boom from underneath them.
"What the heck was that?" That was when Jaiko noticed the small, squarish rise in the ground. "Wait, is this what I think it is? Gresh, hurry, get over here."
Gresh had many buckles to undo before he could get up, but he had become quite proficient in this process. Once free, he stood up and stretched, flexing his arms around to loosen up his shoulders. He let out a big sigh of relief before walking over and crouching down to assess the anomaly. He wiped away the sand from on top to reveal a hatch.
"I knew it! It's a bunker. We'd better get inside there, and soon," he said looking over to the sun that had just disappeared over the horizon. There was still enough late summer light for them to finish their task in safety, and Gresh was elated that they wouldn't have to sleep in their camouflage tent.
Episode III: A Blast from the Past
Zella opened her eyes. It took a moment for things to come into focus. Her thoughts came slowly like molasses, but her last memory came on strong. Other than a foggy haze of grogginess and blurred vision, she felt okay. After blinking her eyes a few times, the film that had built up cleared away and she got a clear image of the pod in which she laid. Above her head was a small circular window that was fogged up, and just below it were a few buttons. The first one was green and was labeled, 'Open Cryopod'. She was anxious to see her husband, Gregg, who should be in the cryopod next to hers, and so the green button was pressed.
There was a slight hum and the pod door began to slowly open sliding apart from the middle. The stale, musty air quickly filled her nostrils, causing her to become concerned. The air should've smelled fresh and clean. The light inside the pod was bright enough that there was no noticeable difference when the light from the room entered. She rubbed her eyes and yawned while she waited for the door to open. Zella stretched her legs, then flexed her feet and ankles. Everything felt strong. The door had opened enough for her to sit up. She gasped and put a hand to her mouth, eyes widening. Nearly every corner and niche in the room was covered in cobwebs. Only the emergency lights were working, and they were dimmed by the thick layers of cobwebs. Her eyes slowly turned their focus onto her husband’s pod. Her widened eyes began to well up with tears.
Gregg's pod door was slightly ajar and the skeletal remains of his grasping hand could be seen holding onto the upper part of the door, no doubt trying to pry it open more to get out. Sobbing overcame her, and the tears flowed heavily. "Please no!" She then slapped herself to make sure it wasn't a nightmare, and then her sobbing worsened as nothing changed. She leaned an arm along the door frame and cried into her forearm. Snot began to drip from her nose, and saliva overwhelmed her mouth. She let out a long, audible sob that nearly didn't retrieve a breath. She inhaled hard, choking on some spit. She leaned over the side coughing violently. It forced her to lurch with every bit of effort, and each fit made it harder to take in a breath. She felt as though she was going to asphyxiate and vomit at the same time until the tickle in her throat subsided enough for her to breathe, only this time she controlled it better. Her bottom lip quivered as she finished inhaling, then continued to sob, although not quite so strongly.
Zella couldn't understand what could've gone wrong. The cryopods were equipped with nanites capable of repairing it. Along with several failsafes, her husband should be alive and well. She should be hugging and kissing him by now. This brought up the memory of the last time that happened.
"Gregg, Honey, are you sure this is the best option?"
Gregg looked up from the cryopod monitor without lifting his head. Zella was tracing the contours of the other pod with her fingers. "You know as well as I do, this campaign of humanity is coming to an end. The tensions between the coalitions is beyond palpable. You can't open your mouth without chewing on it. This is our only option."
Zella stopped to peer into the window of the pod. She then leaned her elbows on it resting her head in her hands and looked at him with a crease in her brow. "I'm just afraid, I suppose. What if something goes wrong?"
Gregg rested his hands on the pod, "Look, Babe, I spared no expense on these cryopods. They are top-of-the-line, guaranteed not to fail. I even bought separate power supplies as a backup, just in case. I mean, there's always mutual homicide," he said with a serious, but sarcastic tone.
She stuck her tongue out at him, even though she wanted to laugh. "That's not funny."
Gregg giggled, "I know, Babe. Listen, there's absolutely nothing to worry about. We have a seed and gene bank, as well as several types of cryogenically frozen livestock, and we even have two incubators. We don't need anything else, except for each other."
She flashed him a weak smirk and she turned to look at the rest of the small room.
He soon realized she was going to need more than words to ease her worries. He walked around the other pod putting himself directly in front of her. She avoided his gaze, pretending to be interested in the plain features of the room. She went to turn around, but he grabbed her arm with one hand, then turned her head toward him with the other. "Look at me, Babe." She finally looked into his eyes with a childish look, tears beginning to well in her bottom eyelids. "If I had any doubts--"
She thrust herself upon him, putting her arms around him, "I know... I'm just so scared."
Gregg put his arms around her and held her tight. He could feel her tears getting his shoulder wet. "We can get through anything together." His eyes began to tear up. "I love you so much. And believe it or not, I'm scared, too." They hugged each other a bit tighter, then he gave her a kiss on her forehead. "How about we go get some lunch, and then we can bring the rest of our stuff down."
She looked up at him, still with tears in her eyes, "That sounds good, as long as you're cooking," she said putting a finger into his chest.
"Grilled cheese it is, then," he said as they walked out laughing together.
Zella had made it out of the bunker hatch first. As she stood up on the grass in their backyard, she saw a strange cloud above the peaks to the east. Gregg didn't notice it and was on his way into the house, "C'mon, Hon. You don't want to miss out on this gourmet lunch." He didn't look back at her right away, but as he reached for the doorknob, he noticed she didn't laugh. Gregg turned to look at her, and then he saw it. That familiar mushroom cap of a cloud slowly rising above the mountains. His jaw gaped open just a bit. He had thought that humanity had evolved past this madness. Yet, there it was. The end all, be all. A quote he remembered from school when they learned about WWII haunted his mind: "I am become death."
The thought shook him out of his paralysis, and his feet began to move without thinking. He scared Zella when he touched her. "Time to go, Babe."
Zella let a sob slip out as she crouched to descend the ladder. They rushed into the cryopod room and Gregg closed the door. They both put on their one-piece cryosuits, and Gregg began to prepare Zella's pod.
Zella felt delirious with a whirlwind of thoughts running through her mind, and she wasn't able to concentrate on a single one of them. She couldn't even concentrate on the matters at hand. She felt like fainting until Gregg grabbed a hold of her arms.
"You can do this, Babe. We have to do this."
His words snapped her out of her delirium and she immediately hugged him hard with tears streaming, "I love you, Gregg."
"I love you, too, Honey." He released his hug and held her by the arms once more, looking into her teary eyes, "Your's is ready. It's time."
Zella nodded her head, and he helped her get into the pod, giving her a kiss before going to prepare his pod. She didn't lay down right away and watched him. His face grew concerned as he looked at the monitor and pressed a few buttons. He rushed over to the head of the pod and crouched out of view. "What's wrong, Honey?"
"Don't worry about it." There was a brief pause before he popped back up and went back to the monitor. "There, now it's online." He was referring to the backup power supply, but he was lying. It hadn't come online, and he didn't know why, but didn't want to worry her. That was when they heard a large explosion. "Time to lay down, Babe. Press 'Initiate Sequence', and once the door closes, it will begin. I love you, Zella. See you 100 years in the future," he finished with a smirk.
"I love you," she said, but there was no smile to be had, and she reluctantly laid down and pressed the button. The shockwave hit and rumbled everything as the door to her pod came to a close. The last thing she remembered was a hissing sound.
Zella peered over at Gregg's lifeless pod. The tears still poured down her face, "Why did you lie to me, Gregg?" She sniffled hard and wiped her nose with a sleeve. She used the other sleeve to wipe her eyes and let out a whimpering sigh. She rested her head onto her arm and sniffled again. She then heard a faint noise that sounded like footsteps in the hallway. Her head popped up and she turned to look at the door just as the footsteps stopped. Then she heard a voice, but it sounded like a child's voice.
"I'm telling you, Gresh, I heard a noise and it must have come from this room, now open the door."
Zella jumped as she heard a loud thud of metal on metal and soon the door began to creak. The tinny voice spoke Inglish, which was promising. Still, she ducked down, eyes peering just over the edge. There was another loud thud, then the creaking resumed, but louder this time, and with a burst of effort the door slid open a few inches. Zella ducked down fully out of sight this time.
"Is there anything in there?" Jaiko asked Gresh.
Gresh could see Jaiko with his other eye and nodded his head.
"Well, come on, what are you waiting for?"
Zella could hear a very breathy sigh before the door creaked again. She could tell it was opening. Her nerves got the best of her, "I have a gun! Identify yourself!"
Gresh and Jaiko peered into the dimly lit room with wide eyes, surprised to hear a voice with no one to show for it. They looked at each other in confusion before Jaiko responded, "Uhh... my name is Jaiko, and my mute friend here is Gresh. Who are you?"
Zella wasn't sure what to do. For all she knew, they could be from a coalition that wants her dead. "What coalition are you from?"
Jaiko and Gresh looked at each other in confusion once more. "Umm, I'm not sure what that is, but we're from District 4. We don't mean you any harm, Ma'am."
Zella hoped it wasn't a trick, but she had never heard of District 4. She slowly sat up, but what she saw caused her to faint.
Thank you so much for reading. Please consider recommending my substack. I hope you imagine having a wonderful day….[[|:-)