Chris Pourteau - Tails of the Apocalypse

This time the thunder scares her too.

“Emily,” says Emily-mother, her voice stressed. “We have to go. The roads are going to be blocked if we don’t move.”

Emily starts to cry. This upsets me more. I pull away from the car. She pulls back.

“Come on, Demon! Get in, get in!”

No! I don’t want to get in. Normally I’m a lot stronger than Emily, but fear gives her power. She drags me roughly into the back seat. My neck hurts. Emily-mother slams the door behind me so I can’t escape.

The car starts to move. I jump up, looking out the window. Our house, red bricks and green grass, disappears behind us. We’re heading away from the park and toward the vet. I start to bark. No vet. Not while there’s thunder.

So many cars, all driving in the same direction. Some are going on the wrong side of the road. With a thump, our car drives up on the middle part, and over to the wrong side, too. Cars swerve, and their whining engines hurt my ears. They are driving so fast. Heedless. Away from the house; away from everything.

Running.

The sky lights up in flashes; huge clouds billow, black and bruised, on the horizon. They rise in strange ways, like no cloud I’ve ever seen before; a giant ball of cloud slowly rising, and there’s fire underneath it. Then another flash, and another. They hurt my eyes.

“Shit!” says Emily-father, his voice hollow. “They’re using nukes. The evacuation hasn’t even begun.”

I don’t think we’re going to the vet.

The car swerves to one side. A huge car is coming down the road—it is like a very big box, and it has a big boom-maker on top of it. Our car gets out of the way. Another car doesn’t; the big metal-box drives over it, crushing it like a can. The people inside die. Did they have a good boy too? I didn’t see.

Another metal-box is right behind that one. And then another. It is a long train of metal-boxes with strange wheels. They have boom-makers on top.

“We have to get going,” says Emily-mother. “Can we get around?”

“The tank just drove over those people,” says Emily-father. “I don’t want to get too close. Hang on; if I swing on the outside…”

“Be careful,” says Emily-mother.

The car starts to move again. We’re only part of the way on the road; the car shakes uncontrollably. We’re very close to the metal-box, passing it on one side.

I bark and paw at the window. Emily tries to hold me down but I’m frightened. I don’t want to be crushed. I don’t want to be lightninged to death. Go away, metal-boxes!

We pass the column of metal-boxes. Our car surges ahead of the others; there are fewer cars ahead. I stop barking. I did it. I scared them away.

“Good boy,” says Emily, rubbing my neck. “Good boy.”

I lick her face. She still seems very frightened; I want to help. I don’t understand what’s happening, but it’s okay. As long as I have Emily, I will be okay.

“It’s the Earthborn,” says Emily-father. He seems very worried; his fingers clutch hard at the steering wheel, and he doesn’t look at us. “It has to be.”

“If it was the Earthborn, they’d say so,” says Emily-mother. She holds the boom-maker close. “It’s not going to be another Reclamation.”

“What else could it be?” Emily-father shouts.

I don’t like shouting. I bark.

“Keep Demon quiet,” says Emily-mother. “Dad’s trying to drive.”

“Shh,” says Emily. She rubs my neck some more. “Shh, Demon. Be a good boy.”

Everyone smells frightened and angry. I don’t understand what’s happened.

We drive on for some time. The sun begins to sink ahead of us. We leave the sirens and the thunder behind us. Emily-father drives very fast. The car complains; I can understand. I wouldn’t want to run for this long. But I’m a good boy, and I don’t complain. I have Emily and everything’s okay.

Emily-father and Emily-mother are mostly quiet. When they do talk it’s always in hushed voices about things I don’t understand. Emily gets more scared as we go; I think her parents are trying not to frighten her, but if they are, they’re doing a bad job.

I know the car can speak to them all. Humans have metal in their bodies that allows them to hear what the car, or the house, says. They listen to things like games and hear things happening a long way away from here.

I can tell by how quiet they are that they’re listening a lot.

“ New Panama News says the military is containing the outbreak,” says Emily-father. “An outbreak of what , exactly? I heard someone say they were bugs.”

“Some kind of bioweapon?” asks Emily-mother. “Could we be infected?”

“I don’t think it’s a disease,” says Emily-father. “Listen to the way they talk. They keep stressing to people to take their weapons with them. You can’t fight bioweapons with shotguns.”

“You can’t fight bugs with shotguns either,” says Emily-mother.

I put my head in Emily’s lap. She pats my ears. I feel a bit better. Wherever we are, we’re a long way away from the vet, and that’s good.

“We need to stop and charge,” Emily-father says. “It’s down to one bar.”

“There’s a station up ahead.” Emily-mother twists around to look at us. “How are you two travellers?”

I’m okay. I feel a lot better. Although even a trip to the vet is less scary than this.

“I’m gas,” says Emily. “But I need to pee.”

“We’re going to be stopping soon,” says Emily-mother. “I’ll come with you.”

Emily stops patting me. “I don’t like people watching me when I go.”

“This is different,” Emily-mother says, stress in her voice. “I need to come with you. It’s not safe by yourself.”

“What’s going on? Is it the Earthborn?”

Emily-mother shakes her head. “It’s not the Earthborn. We don’t know what it is. My ’net is clogged.”

“I know,” says Emily. “My ’net is clogged too. I sent heaps of messages to Tatyana and Mei Xiang, but I think my implants are broken.”

“Keep trying,” says Emily-mother. “If mine comes gas, I’ll let you know.”

The car slows down. It’s hot and doesn’t seem to be working right. Maybe they ran it too far too fast. It pulls off to one side of the road toward a building.

Nobody’s around. Not even any other cars. We were ahead of most of them. Everyone gets out. Emily keeps a tight grip on my leash, then ties it to the back of the car. I’m okay with this. I take the time to pee. Emily-mother takes Emily to do the same, behind the building.

Behind us, those big clouds continue to hang in the air. I take a moment to look at them; there’s a soft whine as Emily-father hooks up the car-feeder to the car. It hums as it begins to do things. They are feeding the car.

Thinking of food reminds me: I’m a little hungry. I smell something in the air; it’s like meat, but also living things, too. It has a strange smell. I don’t like it. It’s blowing in from those clouds, but I think it’s ahead of them. It’s something alive. A lot of somethings.

They’re coming.

I get afraid again, but then the wind changes and the smell goes away. Now I can smell something else.

There are other people here.

I bark.

“Fucking dog,” says Emily-father. “Shut up.”

I bark and I bark. The smell of someone else is coming from where Emily is.

Emily-mother and Emily return.

“How long?” asks Emily-mother.

“Two minutes,” says Emily-father. He smiles widely. “Aren’t you glad I paid extra for the fast-charge option?”

“Okay, okay,” says Emily-mother. “It turned out to be gas.” She laughs. Everyone laughs—it’s good to see something other than fear. It makes me feel better again. I wag my tail for the first time in a while.