The Life After ATLAS

No Escape

I can feel my body hanging, my arms wanting to slip off from my torso. Sweat drips from my hanging head. I don't want to open my eyes. I hear screeching and scratching and the rattling of chains. Nothing amuses me. I hang my head, depressed of all my energy. I'm down once again, the aching feeling for a tired brain. Maybe that's what it is. Depression. But how can a Soldier like me get depressed? Wasn't it killed in 2043? Anyways, I'm crazy. My mind's running, thoughts of Dawn flood through me.
"ATLAS," a man with a deep Arabian accent says. "Look at me."
I keep hanging my head.
"I said look at me!"
I slowly lift my aching head, and open my eyes who wish to be shut. The man is lightly tanned, with no hair whatsoever on his head.
"You," he begins, "Who are you? Are you the Soldier we're all afraid of?"
"I'm just an ATLAS Soldier, looking to get home to his wife," I reply. According to the way the man looks at me, my response wasn't to his standards.
"What rank are you?" He asks, clearly blind of the Major stars on my right shoulder.
"Major," I look him dead in the eye, and he flinches a little. For no reason, he laughs.
"So you're the runaway Major," he smiles an unfriendly smile. "Well, Major, welcome to the KVA."
"Can't you let me go?" I ask as politely as possible. "Can't you let me go?"
The man shakes his head. "The only way you'll get out, is down," he says as he look into the hole I'm hanging over. I look down as well, and I'm immediately terrified. In the pit below, several undead are clawing to get to me, none of which succeed.
"So, now do you want to go?" he asks again. I shake my head, knowing that's what Dawn would've done. The man smiles again. "Whip him," he says, and just as he turns his back, something with little spikes latches itself into the skin on my back, and almost instantly, it's pulled out with the hardest of forces. I scream in pain as I feel a significant amount of blood dripping down my back. Will you ever learn not to kill yourself? I ask myself, clearly annoyed. Is it too hard to ask if Dawn's safe?
Apparently, in this new world, it is. I hang my head once more, relax myself, and fall asleep.
*
A loud ping awakens me.
"Wake up, ATLAS scum!" another KVA yells. "Lucky you, you have some friends." He smirks as he leads me down from my hanging grave. I fall the the ground, my legs wobbly.
"Get up," the KVA orders. I try standing, but I fall again. "I said-" he stops mid-sentence as I land a blow from my prosthetic arm into his gut. He drops his MK14, clutching his stomach.
"I can get up myself," I say as I break his neck, the satisfying crack of bone and tearing of flesh filling the empty corridor. I look around, and no one is in sight. I search my captive's body for any extra magazines. Luckily, he was generous enough to lend me five full. I grab the MK14, cock it, and cautiously make my way down the hallway. The sound of footsteps alarms me, and I press my back against the corner of the empty base. I hear voices, roughly four.
"... hell. This world is hell," one says.
"Nah, just an experiment gone wrong," a second joins in.
"Can't we get this body to Halsey without debating what this is?" says a third. A fourth grunts in approval. They draw near. I look to see what they're doing. They're Hazmats, carrying a body of one of the undead. A hand on the thing moves.
"Are you sure it's dead?" the second voice asks fearfully.
"Yes, Dan," the fourth finally says. "It's dea-"
I take a shot, and hit him in the head.
"What the-" I kill the second one, then the first. The third Hazmat drops to his knees
"Please, don't kill me," he pleads. "I have a family to take care of." He starts to cry. I press the barrel to his head.
"All I want are directions," I say, cold as ice. "First, push all but one of the bodies off the edge." Standing up, the Hazmat flips all of his friends into the dark void. All but the fourth. "Now," I say. "How the hell do I get out of here?"
Frightened, he tells me.
"Thanks," I say as I clap my hands. Confused, the Hazmat looks as I run away. Then, the screaming starts as the zombie bites his victim. The screech of the undead fill the hallway. I run faster. I turn a corner, and run straight into a squad of KVA.
That's the ATLAS!" someone yells, but I'm already up and running down the hall. Bullets ricochet off the walls, missing me by mere millimeters. Eventually, a scream comes from the back as another KVA becomes a zombie. I keep running, and seeing a door, burst through into a rainy day.
*********************************
The rain dulls the newfound fire. The hiss of the dying fire fills the silent hills, smoke protruding into the clear atmosphere. Dark clouds cover the happy world. All happiness turns to insanity, friendliness turns to brutality. Death outweighs life. Hell is filling quickly. The feeling of watching your world crumble around you is the only feeling. Loneliness. Depression. Sorrow. Envy for those who live. Lust. Disgust. Ignorance to pleads. This isn't hell. It's reality.
*********************************
Dawn gazes upon the fallen city. She's afraid to go outside her door. Afraid for what hell might occur. She wants to be human when and if John comes back home. And she wants Evan to be alive and born, not something inside the womb. She gazes down. Her belly is still the same from yesterday. She doesn't want to lose something her and John have worked so hard for. And she doesn't want to lose John.
What will he say? Dawn ponders. What will he do? So many questions left unanswered.
She looks outside. Seems that she didn't read the forecast correctly. But, no one else was alive. There couldn't be. Not in this hell. There is a possibility that John could be alive, but it's slim. Surely, he could be making it back to her right now. But how far is the question. The prison shouldn't be that far from HQ. Or at least a Warbird flight isn't.
Then, Dawn's knees buckle as she starts to cry into her outstretched palms. There's no way he'd make it back, she thinks about the facts. The outbreak started near the prison, and the place got swarmed... The Warbird went down, down along with John...
*********************************
I can't stop running. My legs are telling me to stop, my mind telling me to keep going. I continue to run, afraid that someone or something will catch up to me, and kill me. The shrieks all around me only make me run faster. I'm not going to die, I think as I raise the stolen MK14 to my shoulder. The sound of an exo-suit boost jumping in front of me catches my attention. It's a zombie. Pull, I think as I fire a shot. Luckily, the shot hit it's head. I continue running, and find myself soon on a street. I stop, and look around. The houses are ablaze, trees and lampposts fallen, the street itself torn up. I barely recognize it. I walk along northwards, eyeing every house, looking for someone that isn't dead. I still run like a little boy playing manhunt, and all the people that are "it" are behind him. Except this game of manhunt is life or death. I come to what seems to be a highway, and I look up. There it is. ATLAS Corporation. Except it doesn't look like ATLAS. It looks more like a bomb hit. Dawn, I think as I run towards the destroyed structure. I stop when I see an overturned Hoverbike. Actually, more like ten. I check the monitor. Luckily, it still works. I mount the craft that I piloted plenty a times in Afghanistan, Poland, Mexico, Italy, Greece, and so many other places I can't begin to name. I check the pads on the underbelly. There seems to be a small crack in one, but it shouldn't throw off my movement too much. Right?
I hoped for the startup would be a bit quieter, but, I guess it is what it is. Every time I mount a Hoverbike, the feeling of being off the ground is always thrilling for me. I thrust the bike forward, and at speeds nothing could match, I take off, unaware of what was following me.
A roar startled me halfway through my trip. I turn around to see something I dreamt of as a kid; a massive hulking figure, muscles visible in it's huge arms. The skin-coloured creature had a metal strip over it's right eye with a green light, wires protruding from it's heart all over it's body.
"Shit!" I hear myself yell as I gun the Hoverbike to top speeds. But, that isn't fast enough. The creature knocks the bike out from under me, and I go flying through the air like a rag doll. The impact killed. My back came in contact with a broken building, something that would've killed me if the roof was slanted lower. Here I am, on the floor, helpless as a beast thunder towards me. My vision blurry, I couldn't really go anywhere. A roar came over the silent street, forcing me back into a piece of cold, hard concrete. Here comes hell, I think as the thing walks over to me and picks me up, letting me fly once more into a parked car. I fall flat on my face, the ground not too welcoming. I get up slowly, every bone in my body crying out in pain. I eye a piece of rebar laying on the ground on front of me. I pick it up, and wait for the creature to pick me up once again. The thunderous roar fills the air, and once more, the muscular hand picks me up.
I look at the creatures face, seeing no pity within it if it kills me.
"I see you, fucker," I say as I shove the piece of rebar into it's glowing green eye. It drops me, clawing at it's eye to try and locate the rebar.
Thank god that worked, I think as I start to run to ATLAS, to Dawn. I can't tell how fast I'm running, but I don't think I ran this fast without an exo ever since Combat Readiness. I run, not looking back. I turn a corner, and see the doors to ATLAS broken and bent inwards as if people are there welcoming anyone. Dawn, I'm coming, I think as I pick up a BAL from an unfortunate Soldier. I walk in, as quietly as possible. First, I plan, I need to find the exos. Then, I go find Dawn.
I try to remember where everything would be in this wreck, but I can't. I know the exos are in the lower levels, but I don't know which level. Sub Level Six is my guess, but I can't be sure. I try the lift. The hum of the machinery above is still operating, but nothing seems to be coming up.
I hate stairs. I hate them to the bone. Especially in a time like now. The echoes are always keeping me on edge. Sub-Level Two... I groan as I slowly watch the doorways, looking at every number. The creaking of the metal stairs is beginning to worry me, but I keep trudging on, ignoring everything around me. That is, until the stairs underneath me give away just before Sub-Level Four. I grasp on to the stair in front of me, while down below the clatter if metal seems distant. "Shit," I mutter as I heave myself up to my feet. I need to be more careful.
Thank god my BAL didn't drop. I pick it up at the next landing. Sub-Level Five is weapons testing. I hear occasionally about a new energy weapon that's a mix of a LMG and a shotgun, but it's nonsense. At last, I find Sub-Level Six. I break down the door, and an awful stench rushes out if the room. I pull my shirt up as a filter, but it smells no better than the room. Still, I keep it up. Emergency lights are on, some flashing. At first, the blood on the walls isn't too scary, except for them being of fingers sliding down the corridor, then disappearing at every corner. Not until I reach the Generator room. There, bodies upon bodies are piled up all around. Some clearly became undead, others were humans, shot and killed. I cringe as my shirt doesn't help with the stench. Rotting bodies fills my nostrils, screams of pain are still present. I see a Soldier a little bit away from the pile. He didn't get bit, but rather shot in the head, his face resembling what terror he was in. I ripped off his dog tags. Nigel Potashnyk. Joined ATLAS: 2051.
I knew Nigel a little. I had a few firefights with him. A real good shot.
I walk around, since I've never been down here before. I hope I can find the exos soon...
I've never heard ATLAS so quiet in my life before. Even when I was on Night shift, there was still enough movement to make noise. Swallowing heavily, I press my BAL into my shoulder, almost painful to do so. The drip of a leaking pipe somewhere is faint, yet seemingly right beside me. The flashlight on the gun helps. I see a sign overhead, even though most of the letters are covered by blood. There's an arrow pointing left, another right, another straight. I want to throw my gun down in anger, knowing that at this pace, I'll never find Dawn, but I don't. I know what she would do. She wouldn't give up. She'd fight down to her last breath. I tightly close my eyes, and turn down the left hallway. I open my eyes, and start sprinting. Sprinting, knowing I wouldn't find anything. Sprinting, knowing I could catch my wife in her last few seconds. Sprinting, knowing she wouldn't be the way I remember her. The hallway winds left and right, and I follow. I reach a room, barely lit, with a cylinder in the middle. Cautiously, I walk forwards, for it could release a bunch of undead. A hissing noise is made, and four coverings all rise up. The one that's right in front of me holds nothing. Nor does the one to my right. However, I struck gold once I reached the third. An exo, fresh from the factory, fully charged, stands there, waiting for a body for it to latch on to. Smiling like a kid on Christmas, I put it on, the cold metal welcoming. My wristpad comes on, the screen bright in a dull world.
I grin, and I take off. The suit has something I like; Overclock. Hover I don't care too much about. I activate Overclock, and in no time, reach the mass of bodies. I'm coming, Dawn, I think as I start up the stairs. I boost to each landing, the thud both scaring me and giving me energy. Once I reach the lobby, I don't hesitate to step on glass, metal, or bits of flesh. I only care about Dawn. I find the closest stairwell, stairwell East, and quickly run up each landing, the boost making it twice as fast. Once I reach Floor 7, a screech down below frightens me, along with the sound of boosters. Fuck, I think as I stand on the landing, waiting for the undead to come. That's when I see a Launcher system on my right wrist. I examine the screen. Threat Detection. I feel the belt of the exo. At least four Smart grenades are jingling. I grin as I launch a Threat down the stairwell. When it goes off, ten heat signatures appears down below. Nothing I can't handle, I think as I take one of the Smarts off, activate it to Frag, and throw it down. I start running up, knowing that the grenade could kill me somehow, someway. The blast goes off, and I see that four were missing. Then, the Threat wears off, and I'm blind again. When I look to see what damage happened, I see at least three landings were toppled. Impossible for a jump to reach. Possible for an exo. Not thinking about what could happen to me, I rip another Smart off, set it to Frag, and place it on the landing I'm on. God, I think. I hope this idea works...
Needless to say, I jumped. I didn't want to be near the landing. I see a hand, but it disappears when the grenade goes off, rupturing the landing, along with others. I wait. No screeching. No boosting. Only te soft tinkle of concrete rain underneath. I get up, brush some dust off my shoulders, and see what landing I'm on. Floor 13. I smile. Dawn, baby, I'm home.
I open the door, and I want to cry. Everywhere, wood from nearby rooms littered the floor, bodies of human, zombies and dogs create a new flooring, and blood paints the bodies red and black. Horrified, I find our room, but it has a new paint job of blood, flesh and brains.
"Dawn!" I yell as I break down the door to our dorm. "Dawn, baby, it's me!"
"John?" a small voice squeaks. I shine my light over to where I hear it.
"Dawn," I rush over, and there is my wife, curled up scared behind the sofa.
"Oh my god," she sounds surprised. "It is you!" She hugs me, then starts to cry.
"What's wrong, Dawn?" I ask, clearly wanting to sound concerned.
"I... I heard the prison got overrun," she sobs. "I... I was scared, John. When I heard that there was a Warbird with one survivor, I knew it was you..." She cries in my chest. I run my hand through her hair, and support the back of her head.
"It's ok," I shush to a trembling Dawn. "I'm here, everything's fine."
Dawn looks up at me. "I'm pregnant," she says.