When Fate And Worlds Collide

01 | The Beginning of the End

I had been sitting at my desk when it happened. When the sky split open and reigned down monsters that you could only imagine in nightmares or think existed in fairy tales.

I was young, working two jobs to support my nine-year-old son, battling with my ex while trying to appear like my life wasn't falling to pieces.
That seemed like a lifetime ago. My everyday problems back then paled in comparison to what life was like now.
Sometimes, I found my mind wondering back to those simpler times when the routine of wake up, school run, work, school pickup, eat, sleep, repeat was almost enticing. A time when I didn't have to have one eye open while I slept.

They called it the fall. The end to our way of life. The fall of humanity. The slaughter of mankind.

No movie, book or computer game could prepare us for the savage slaughter that began that day, or the struggles that would continue every day after.

We were too arrogant as a species, thinking that we could survive anything. We learnt that day how very wrong, and how very stupid, we humans were. For all our doomsday preppers and apocalyptic genres, you couldn't prepare for something that happens within minutes.

Now, almost four years later I sat atop a half broken building and surveyed the dead and decaying city below, watching a couple of survivors race across the street, one wounded and both low on ammo. I had been tracking them for a while, trying to see whether they were part of a larger group, and how dangerous they may be.

This was meant to be a simple scouting mission, one that should have been easy and had me back home before nightfall. It was routine, but when I left the tower, I knew in my gut that today was going to be different. A pack of ferals were hunting the pair, their razor-sharp claws were covered in a toxic poison that slowly paralyses the victim. If the wounded didn't get the antidote soon, the other survivors best chance would be to leave him behind.

A cruel thought, but not uncommon.

It was not unusual to see that kind of behaviour anymore. Humans had an overriding sense of self-preservation that affected even the most kind-hearted person when in the face of death.

I had three choices; one, I could intervene and help save both men, the wounded posing a danger as he could slow me down before we reached safety. Two, I could save the healthy man and use the wounded as a distraction. Or three, I simply turn away and search the area on my own. If they were part of a larger group, they wouldn't be hard to find.

I heard the bloodcurdling cry of the Ferals, they could smell the fear that rolled off these men. They knew their hunt was coming to an end, victory tasting sweet. The beasts were too close to bother with a rescue now, one of our rules in the tower being never risk your life so save another if it can be avoided. Heroes die quicker than survivors, and we were too low on survivors.

I turned to leave when one of the men cried out, his voice gluing me to the spot. I knew that voice. It had been more than three years ago, just after the world had ended. It couldn't be. He couldn't have survived this long on his own, could he?

I crept back to the edge, keeping low as not to be seen and drew out my gun, the silencer on the end meant my shots had to be close up, but at least I would not draw any unnecessary attention. I tried to focus on the survivors, I needed to see his face to be sure it was him, but he had a hat and mask covering his face. I cursed under my breath.

The building at the end of the street exploded, debris reigning down as the Ferals charged the men, four in total. A tracking pack, but there would be many more on the way. The men had reached an empty parking lot, the wounded falling to the ground and pulling out his gun while the other resumed a defensive stance. I could taste their fear and defeat; they knew they were about to die.