Kyle West: Darkness

It was December 21, 2060, the darkest day of the year, and instead of staying warm in my bunk aboard the Odin, I was freezing my butt off in the predawn darkness, waiting for my ride.

Anna stood next to me, shivering. I wondered whether this was the right choice. Makara and I had made the decision that we would investigate Bunker 108 to see if it was a viable option before heading to Bunker 84. Since I was from Bunker 108, I had to be the one to go. Michael would have been the other obvious choice, but Anna had experience flying Askal while Michael got queasy with heights.

Gilgamesh was still being used as a makeshift hospital and Ashton was using Odin to make runs back and forth between Skyhome and the Vegas Exodus, ferrying food and supplies.

Riding on Askal had been my idea. Askal tended to hang around our camp anyway, so I thought we might as well put him to use.

Now, standing outside in the frigid December air, I was definitely second-guessing my decision. It would have been easier to just have Odin drop us off before heading for Skyhome on one of its runs, but I wanted this idea to work — perhaps because it was my own. I’d flown to the Great Blight before with no issues, and the journey to Bunker 108 would not take all that much longer. At least, that was what I hoped.

“Where is he?” Anna asked, breath clouding the air.

That was when Askal swooped down from over Pyrite’s palisade wall, rearing up his feet and landing right in front of us. His clawed toes slid in the dust, kicking up a cloud that sent both Anna and me into fits of coughing. The dragon blinked a few times with his all-white, intelligent eyes, as if surprised to see us out here on this dismal day. Though I was wrapped head to toe in five layers of clothing, including a parka, it still didn’t feel like enough. My fingers were numb inside my thick, padded gloves. The harsh Wasteland wind somehow found a way to chill me. My head was covered with two knit caps, the outer one with flaps covering my ears. Despite all of this protection, it felt as if all the clothing in the world wouldn’t be enough to keep me warm.

“You were right,” I said to Anna. “Coldness to freeze your blood.”

My breaths made thick clouds that instantly disappeared into the arid air. I pulled out my canteen from inside my parka. I had warmed the water aboard Odin , and after taking a long drink, I offered some to Anna. She shook her head, merely staring ahead at the Askala who now, with wide wings, covered his sides to protect himself from the fierce wind.

Why we had decided to do this, I couldn’t say — and not just being out here in the cold. We were about to go to the one place I’d hoped to avoid for the rest of my life. But it was necessary. We needed confirmation that Bunker 108 would not serve as a shelter for the Exodus. On the small chance that it was suitable, it would be much better than using Bunker 84. Bunker 84 was distant — in the mountains of Northern California. It was far from our eventual destination of Los Angeles. But if our supposition was correct, Bunker 108 would be completely unusable — full of Howlers and infected with the xenovirus. Bunker 84 was probably abandoned, which made it the more likely choice. Either way, we had to evacuate Pyrite sometime in the next few days. Even given the food issue, the swarm would soon catch up. Already, its frontrunners had made their way to its walls — all hastily shot down by the guards that constantly manned the walls. If the lack of food and cold didn’t kill us, they surely would.

Askal gave his pointy head a shake, letting out a snort that sent plumes of fog into the air. I felt the Askala’s warm exhalation on my cheek before it was replaced with stinging cold.

“Well,” I asked Anna, “you ready?”

Anna nodded.

It had been three days since the xenoswarm attacked us on that hill, which led to our being locked behind Pyrite’s walls. Odin’s sweeps of the area reported that the swarm was gathering, beginning to spread itself in a long line north to south. It was readying itself to make its final push westward.

Despite all that we had learned about the xenovirus and the monsters it spawned, we still didn’t know the most important things. Why hadn’t they attacked yet while we were still so weak? Ashton’s theory was that they couldn’t be away from xenofungus for long, which made sense. The fungus was their main food source, even if they did eat people and animals sometimes. Their need to be close to a Blight was the one weakness we could pinpoint. It would be nice if we could find a way to get rid of that fungus, but when Blights already covered so much of the United States, it seemed like an exercise in futility.

Pyrite itself was about fifty miles from the Great Blight, meaning that if these creatures wanted to eat, they had to travel a fair distance between the Great Blight and Pyrite. There were smaller Blights, of course, but these were fairly distant from Pyrite. That said, they were growing at an alarming rate. One small Blight had cropped up to the southeast of Pyrite, and another to the southwest, each about twenty miles away. The real question we all had was how long it would take these smaller Blights to join together — not just these ones close to Pyrite, but all of them. Months? Years? Hopefully it would be no faster than that.

Askal unfolded his wings as Anna and I approached his side. I climbed up, using one of his haunches as a steppingstone. I twisted myself and settled on his back between the two ridges that formed a natural, secure seat. I held out a gloved hand to Anna. She reached up, clasping my forearm as I clasped hers. I held tightly as she boosted herself up, and I guided her to Askal’s back. Soon, she was seated behind me, wrapping her arms around my torso. I felt a little warmth filter in through my outer layers. Perhaps it would be enough to keep the cold at bay. I felt her shake slightly as a particularly chilly wind blew.

I checked my belt to make sure my Beretta was still holstered on my right side. I had left the AR behind because I was going light; I didn’t plan on getting into any fights. If there was trouble, the plan was to tuck tail and run back to Askal. That was what Makara had told me to do and I didn’t argue on that point.

This mission had been more Ashton’s idea than anyone else’s. It seemed he still held out hope that Bunker 108 was an option. All the same, I wasn’t getting my own hopes up. I’d seen what had happened there. And from the way things looked, I’d be seeing it all over again.

One of the curious effects of being so fortified against the cold was that I could not communicate with Askal. Sighing, I took off my right glove, feeling like my hand was doused in ice-cold water the minute it touched the air. I hadn’t even checked my watch for the temperature. I was afraid of what I might see.

I pressed my hand on Askal’s smooth back. The scales were hard, but surprisingly warm.

Instantly, Askal’s thought entered my mind. As it did so, I felt my eyes tickle a bit — it was a very weird feeling. I knew then what was happening: my eyes were changing. I kept my face turned from Anna, so she didn’t have to see.

A fine day for a flight .

I gave a short laugh, my breath sending a cloud of white condensation into the air.

I thought you guys didn’t get cold, I thought.

Askal snorted. It caused his whole body to shake, and Anna held onto me more tightly.

We fare better than you puny humans. But too long in cold like this would bring down even the mightiest Askala.