Clio and Cy: The Apocalypse (13 page)

“Just because war is hell doesn’t mean you can’t have a
little fun.”

- Navy SEAL, Chris Kyle

North Carolina:

“Had enough to eat?”

Clio nodded her head and looked down at Lady who was
finishing her breakfast off by licking the ground where some had escaped the
bowl.

“Keep your photon pistol slung,” Russ showed Clio by putting
it over his neck and then taking it back off handing it to her.

Clio eyed the cord that he’d fastened to it and draped the
weapon over her head and let it hang like a satchel. “Like this?”

“That’s it,” Russ said, leaning in. “Keep it here, at your
side,” he instructed.

“Got it,” Clio answered.

Russ walked to the rack of weapons hanging on the wall. “This
is a proper rifle,” he said pulling it off. “This one shoots real bullets… ok?”

“Ok.”

“The kick is different but we’ll go over that in a bit.”

Lady barked as Russ grabbed another rifle off the wall and
led them out back. “This way,” he ordered.

Shielding the rising sun with her hand, Clio saw paper
targets and cans set up at varying distances down the gentle slope of the
backyard.

Russ pointed to them as if he were a man running a carnival
booth. “Set those up while you were sleeping.”

“How far are those?” Clio asked pointing to the farthest
targets that were silhouetted in the shape of a person and marked with Russ’s
personal brand of humor.

“Almost two hundred yards,” Russ stated. “Not bad if you can
hit ‘em.”

In a rare attempt at being funny, Russ took the liberty of
drawing monster faces on them. Seeing crayon sketched mouths jammed with fangs
had the opposite effect on the girl. The cartoonish drawings pissed her off.

Clio got down on her belly the same as Russ did.

“Can you see through the scope?” Russ asked.

“Yes.”

“Good. It’s got a built in range finder on it. It adjusts to
whatever you put it on. Understand?”

“I think so…”

“The scope automatically adjusts to whatever you put it on.
It only takes a second. A millisecond actually… back in the old days a scope
was only good for a certain distance. If you wanted to shoot at something
farther, you had to manually adjust it. Understand?”

“Or closer? Yes. Got it,” Clio answered.

“That’s right, or closer. Just put the middle of the
crosshair on whatever you want to shoot.”

“I got it.”

“Get your finger off the trigger!” Russ scolded.

Startled, Clio released the trigger and looked over puzzled.

“That’s how accidents happen. Only put your finger on the
trigger when you’re ready to shoot.”

“Ok,” Clio said shaking her head with a bratty
expression
on her face.
What the heck do you think I was trying to
do?

“I’m serious, Clio… Pay attention… Ok, next is the safety
switch.” Russ leaned over and extended his hand. “Here,” he said after clicking
it on and off. “Down to fire and up for safe. You try.”

Clio switched the safety on and off with her thumb. “Got
it.”

“Pull the trigger easy, young lady… Don’t jerk on it. Do the
best you can. Hold your breath then aim… then fire. Put these ear plugs in
first.”

“Ok. I got it,” Clio answered as she forced the foam into
her canals and looked through her scope.

“Try some of these cans up close first.”

Clio didn’t answer and continued looking through the scope.
Holding her breath… she pulled. “Crack!”

Russ lifted his head up, peeking. “You missed.”

“No I didn’t.”

“What?” Yes you di…”

“Look,” Clio said pointing her finger at the farthest
target.

“Well I’ll be… you’re a natural,” Russ said looking at the
hole in one of the paper targets. It was a clean shot right through the
monster’s paper face.

The rifle kicked back after each shot. Clio knocked cans
down one after the other. Thinking about her mom and dad, she gently pulled the
trigger, over and over, vengeful with each shot. “Crack! Crack! Crack!”

“Damn natural… not bad kid.”

“What’s next?” Clio asked.

“Think you can do it when it counts?” Russ asked.

Clio nodded her head yes.

“Ok. Let’s go back inside and grab a few things before we
head out.”

Twenty-six minutes later:

Clio and Russ emerged from the house both wearing backpacks
filled with supplies.

“Where we going?” Clio asked.

“Railroad tracks are just on the other side of the woods,”
Russ said.

“We’re taking a train ride?”

“No, smart aleck… It’s a good place to hunt. It’s wide open
so it’s safer… good line of sight and those bastards can’t sneak up on us
there.”

“Ok. I wasn’t trying to be fresh…” she paused… “Russ… my dad
talked about open areas being dangerous.”

The old man patted Clio on the shoulder as if to say sorry.
“Yeah, your dad is smart and he’d usually be right. But… with these goddamn
bastards, it’s best to see ‘em coming.”

“I think you’re right,” Clio stated in agreement, nodding
her head extra hard.

“He teach you how to carry a rifle? Your Daddy…”

“I don’t think so…”

Russ held his rifle pointing the barrel down with the butt
stock high and snug against his shoulder. “Like this… keep your finger straight
like I showed you…. Off the trigger, ok?”

Clio did the same with her weapon and Russ realized how
small she was holding the thing. The weapon was designed for a grown person,
not a child.

“Like this?” she asked.

“That’s it,” Russ said pointing his weapon at imaginary
targets in the forest, bringing it up and down; repeating his movements.

Feeling the weapons heft, Clio imitated the old man.

“You got it, Clio. Nice work. Move your barrel with your
head so you’re ready to shoot at whatever you’re looking at.”

Clio practiced for the monster show and aimed at imaginary
creatures. She wanted to kill one for real.

The old man and the girl came through the woods and stood at
an opening.

“Railroad tracks!” Clio shouted. Lady barked with excitement
as if she knew why they were there too.

There wasn’t a train in sight. Railroad tracks curved and
disappeared in opposite directions, like paths leading to a dark abyss. Russ
pondered where the railroad tracks went and the thought prompted an idea to pop
in his head.
RMB Jackson…
For now,
he’d keep what he was thinking to himself.

Clio never fathomed wanting one of those ungodly things to
appear before, but, now, she found herself wishing that a flesh-eater would
show its nasty ass face.
Come on out so I
can get you
.

The old man couldn’t help feel a loving closeness to the
girl. He was happy to have some human interaction but it was much more than
that.
Silly
, he thought. Given the
circumstances he felt like he loved the girl already. He tried to deny his
feelings. Love was a dangerous commodity in these times. Loving something left
the possibility for awfulness to steal like a thief in the night. The already
unthinkable thought of losing this precious little warrior child pervaded his
thoughts.

Keep your stuff
together and stay on your toes Russ
, he thought to himself. No way he was
going to let anything happen to her, not if he had a say in the matter. Damn
sure wasn’t going to let something bad happen due to his daydreaming, or a slip
up.
No way, stay sharp old man
.

“How much longer before we see one you think?”

“You really want to take a shot at one of these things don’t
you?”

“Goddam… dang right I do,” Clio said staring off. Fire shot
from her eyes as she scanned the open ground into the tree line on both sides.

The two walked a couple of miles down the track before
returning. Nothing appeared. “Let’s head back the other way,” Russ suggested.

They walked another couple of miles in the opposite
direction. Other than a few animals scurrying through the woods, not a damn
thing piqued their interest.

“Let’s take a break.”

 
“Ok,” Clio answered,
as if she didn’t want to.

They sat on the tracks. “Now, what’s wrong with this
picture?” Russ asked.

The girl sat facing the same direction as the old man and
thought before she answered… “We can’t see if anything comes up behind us?”

“That’s correct, young Clio. Good… You’re catching on real
good… must have some of your daddy in you…”

Clio adjusted and placed her back against Russ. Feeling the
warmth of the old man’s back through Bell’s shirt, she began thinking of her
father.

Suddenly, and without warning, Russ got up. She braced on her
palms almost falling over.

Class was in session for the entire day.

“Look at me. Here’s another thing. When you stop…” Russ
acted it out as he got down on one knee… “You get down like this and keep your
weapon up. Ok? Look around… cover as much area as you can… be swiveling your
head around. You want three hundred and sixty degree security whenever
possible.”

“Ok,” Clio answered looking around as if the lesson had
already sunk in.

“If I’m walking in the front that means you’ve got the…”
Russ pointed at Clio. “Back,” she answered.

“Perfect. You check the back every few seconds and when you
turn around to face me - our eyes meet… we see each other.”

“Got it,” Clio answered.

“That way we both know we’re on the same page. Ok, Clio?”

“Yes… That sounds easy enough.”

“It is but it’s the little things that… that make the
difference.”

“My dad always said stick to the basics.”

“That’s right. If you got your head up your as-- butt and
aren’t paying attention… well… that’s when you get dead.”

“Makes sense...”

“Good.”

“Russ, how do you know all of this?”

The old man gazed up and drifting back in time. “Well… I was
in the Army…”

“You were in the war? Do you know…”

“No, Clio. I was in the Army a long time ago. Long before
the war started…”

Clio gave up hope that Russ might know her father.

“Do you know what Delta Force is?” Clio asked.

Russ gazed off down the tracks and thought it strange that
she would know of such a unit. He thought of fleeting images when he’d briefly
worked with Delta Force Commandos, when he was part of the 75th Ranger
Regiment.

“How do you know about Delta Force, young lady?”

“That’s who my dad is with.”

“I see why you’re such a natural at this then…” Russ said as
he glanced back at the girl still sitting down on the tracks.

“I've always liked Atlanta. And not just for the
strip clubs, but the shopping and the food.”

-Jon Stewart

Only a handful of Marines made it out of the Eclipse
high-rise before it toppled into rubble and burned in a long cloud of smoke
that rose toward the heavens.

Both Marine Corps tanks came out onto Pharr road to
intercept the force of marching Ker.

Over a dozen Ker fired and kept coming.

The Army rushed in to engage, most of them on foot.

While the Marine tanks continued gaining, four Ker turned
south and waited for the Army Soldiers to get within range.

Aiming at waves of Ker, the tanks fired one after the other.
“Boom! Boom!” The drivers realized they had enemy flanking on both sides.
Blasts from their main turrets shook the forty-ton machines and loosened dust
off their armor. Twenty tons lighter than their predecessors, these tanks were
fast.

Both vehicles spun like clock hands, pivoting ass to ass,
before zooming away from each other down Pharr road, and heading toward the
Ker. Metal tracks ripped up the asphalt as they fired on the move. “Boom!
Boom!” Each shot jolting the tanks but did not slow their progress.

After destroying both Ker in its sights, the northbound tank
kept charging when an incoming rocket launched past its turret, missing by
inches.

The southbound tank fired and missed its target of two Ker,
paying for the mistake.

Aiming at the tank, both Ker simultaneously fired
shoulder-held rockets. Their metal bodies barely swayed when the projectiles
launched from the tubes. Both rockets hit the tank and sent shrapnel in the air
after striking. The motorized machine exploded into a fireball, killing its
passengers.

More Ker fired, hitting the only operational tank while
racing at over 70MPH, still engaging. It was a glancing blow that sheared the
turret to pieces and sent hot metal raining down on the drivers. The tank went
off course and out of control when another missile struck it head on. Erupting
into flames, it crashed through a building and burned orange and red blaze that
spread across the stucco.

The soldiers fired at the Ker and managed to take out a few
with precision sniper shots.

Giving better than they got, the Ker used heavy weapons to annihilate
the Army dogs. Men were stomped on like ants. Some were just boys.

The Marines watched their comrades blown to pieces and
retreated for cover as soon as they made it out of the building.

Some of the robots left the skirmish and walked down West Paces
Ferry Road while leading the pack toward the President. A Hum-Z raced toward
the first wave of Ker. The Marines inside the truck were shitting their pants
but wanted pay back.

Scoring a hit, the Hum-Z’s roof gunner fired 30mm depleted
uranium rounds and wasted the lead Ker. The vehicle continued speeding to meet
the next wave at the intersection, while the passenger leaned out and fired
from the window.

A few bots dropped to the ground as the gunner fired from
the turret, his teeth rattling while hot casings showered the street behind
them. Out of ammo, the roof gunner began reloading just as the driver was shot.
The dead driver pushed the accelerator and slumped against the wheel. Unaware
his driver was gone; the passenger continued to fire out his window and
realized how fast they were going. “Slow down!” he shouted.

The Hum-Z continued to fly at over 80mph toward a cluster of
Ker. “Slow down Casey! You’re going too fas…” he glanced in and realized the
driver was dead.

The vehicle smashed head first into a Ker, splitting the
truck down the middle like a paper cutter. When the truck slammed into the
robot, the passenger was still leaning out the window. “Smash!” The Marines’
head came off and flew down the street and rolled across the intersection beyond
a horde of Ker. Ejecting with the head, the roof gunner’s body launched over
the turret.

One head and a whole body raced across the street.

Wrapped around its metal body, the Ker stood inside the
Hum-Z, as if it were wearing the vehicle like a metal skirt.

A handful of Marines and Soldiers continued to battle the
robots, pursuing them and marching down West Paces toward the President. The
trailing men heard gunshots growing louder as they neared the Governor’s
mansion.

2:38PM: The new White House was under attack:

Six Sentinels infiltrated the President’s compound and
prevented the politicians from escaping.

Dr. Pavlov had the old Governor’s mansion in sight through
the viewers of his Ker warriors. He felt good that one of his main goals was
almost within reach but empty, too, knowing nothing would bring his wife back
and all of this killing wouldn’t change a thing. The world was all but
destroyed and no matter what, he couldn’t take it back.
What’s done is done
, he thought. He knew there was no sense in
stopping now.

After several of their vehicles were blown to kingdom come,
the President and cabinet ran back inside. They watched their security guards
go down in alarming numbers.

There was nowhere to hide but the basement. All they could
do now was to wait.

“Crash!” The Governor’s mansion shook. The Ker entered the
building while Sentinels flanked and ran by, checking room to room.

Someone started singing the national anthem from inside the
basement. Making a somber yet joyful noise, the President and the rest joined
in. “Whose broad stripes and bright stars, thro' the perilous fight…”

After hearing the sound of human voices, the Sentinels
swiveled their heads. They detected faint singing beneath their metal feet and
quickly descended.

The singing grew louder after the Sentinels reached the
bottom level. Machines were at the door.

“And the rockets' red glare, the bombs bursting in air,
Gave…” their voices silenced the moment the bots entered the room.

The cabinet members were taken back by the fact bots didn’t
start firing the second they entered the room. After scanning the room, three
Sentinels moved close and faced the humans.

Dr. Pavlov had positive identification and gave the signal.

The acting Vice President began singing defiantly and the
others joined. “Gave proof thro' the night that our flag was still the...”

Open fire! The Sentinels shot and killed the politicians
before they could finish the line, “there.”

The bots slaughtered all but one. Alive and surrounded by
dead bodies, he was the first United States President ever taken prisoner.