Retreat

Retreat
By Chris Nance

First, I should explain that I retired to the wilderness for a reason. After all, I figured I’d done my time for the company, working day in and day out in a thankless job that, from my perspective, didn’t pay shit…at least for the sheer amount of work I had. I’d spent too many years cleaning up other people’s messes and solving other people’s problems. I guess ‘damage control’ was the best way to sum up what I did and I was the best in the business. It was tough work and I have to admit that I almost worked myself to death.

When I announced I was done, that I was retiring, they did everything they could to convince me otherwise. Honestly, I bet they thought I was going to take my experience to the competition or something. It took some hard negotiation, but I think they eventually came to terms with my retreat…finally stopped pressuring me. So, I packed up my stuff and walked off into the sunset, so to speak.

Now, northwestern Canada is about as remote as you can get…nothing but pine trees, wild animals, and fresh air. I told the few friends I had…who am I kidding, I really didn’t have any friends…I told my co-workers it was because I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life as someone else’s slave. In truth, I needed to get as far away from civilization as I could. I needed to live life on my own terms and not for some suit at corporate. I was done.

So, I threw out or sold just about everything I had. It really wasn’t too hard because I didn’t have much. That’s life when you’re living out of a suitcase, always on the move. I’d become too accustomed to sleeping in unfamiliar beds in a different city every night. No friends and no stuff but still contracted to do a job…that was my life. So you can imagine how liberating it was to be free of my shackles…to be able to write my own destiny. I stepped into the wilderness with a gun and a smile and never looked back.

Everything was going just fine for years. It took some trial and error but I lived a subsistence lifestyle, surviving off the land and pretty much eating only what I hunted or could grow myself. My tiny cabin bordered a clearing, tucked into a corner of the woods so perfectly that you might miss it unless you were looking closely. Sure, I had a little solar generator that was enough to power a short wave radio and laptop with satellite internet in case I needed it. I’m not a caveman, after all. Still, I rarely used it. I just didn’t need to.

Living in the middle of the woods, you’re absolutely cut off if you choose to be and I definitely chose to be alone. So, you can imagine I was more than defensive when, on a random afternoon in August, a stranger stumbled into my camp unannounced. “Hello?” I heard him call from the meadow that nuzzled my cabin.

I was inside my tiny home at the time, sharpening my knife, and immediately grabbed for my rifle. It was a shock, to be sure. I hadn’t heard another voice in months so the interruption of my tranquility was more than startling. I peered through the window and found a single man standing about a hundred feet away in the tall grass. Like a lost puppy, he was about as out of place as a snowman in the desert, clad in a bright blue climber’s jacket that had probably never seen the side of a mountain. The rugged country wasn’t too kind to gear for too long and his looked fresh out of the box. Now, my cabin sits at the edge of the meadow and this stranger hiked in from the direction of the clearing, so he obviously wasn’t trying to hide his approach. Even so, I’d become distrustful in my solitude and made sure to keep a firm grip on my weapon. I cracked the door open, making sure he saw the barrel first.

I guess living so far away from another soul makes you a little more than distrustful, especially when you’re a hundred miles from the nearest town and some random guy stumbles into your space. It may sound a bit odd to greet a stranger this way, but I’d always been the cautious type and I never have liked surprises.

I knew he must have seen the smoke from my wood-stove. This part of the year I didn’t use it as often, but I still enjoyed a hot cup of coffee in the morning. Leading with my gun first, I stepped through the doorway. “What do you want?” I asked, less than kindly. For some reason, an old western flashed through my head. You know…the ones where the outlaw calls out the sheriff?

He saw my weapon right away and threw up his hands. “Whoa!” he shouted. “I’m friendly. I’m not even armed.” The man dropped his pack and backed away, opening his jacket to confirm that he didn’t have any sort of obvious firearm. The dumbass was lucky I didn’t have a twitchy finger and, honestly to me, his ‘I come in peace’ claim didn’t mean a damn thing. There could have been a gun tucked away at his back or just below his shirt. Still, I was confident with my barrel pointed plainly at him and knew I could pull off a shot faster than he could draw a hidden gun.

“Where’d you come from?” I asked.

“From…from the road,” he managed to reply. “Man, I’m glad I found you!”

“Found me?” I wondered. “Mister, nobody should be looking for me. I live in the woods for a reason and the closest road is 20 miles away.” I brought the stock of my rifle to my shoulder to emphasize my point.

He raised his hands higher and took a small step forward. Even so, he was still a distance away so he’d have to close quite a piece before he’d be any threat. “Not you in particular,” he clarified. “I’m just glad I found another person. Honestly, I really wasn’t sure what I’d find when I left the road but I saw the smoke from your fire a few miles back. Either way, I had to get out of the city before they took me too.”

I lowered the tip of my rifle if only just a bit. “Who took who?” I asked. “What are you talking about?”

“Wait…you don’t know?” he replied and likewise lowered his hands the same amount. “Well, I suppose you probably wouldn’t, living way out here. The cities, man, they’re empty. Or, at least they’re almost empty.”

“Empty, what are you talking about? Are you some sort of hippie or something?” I asked and raised the barrel again. “Anyways, why should I care?” I asked.

“Because you’re human and mankind is nearly extinct. You and I are some of the few people left in the world.”

I lowered the barrel a little more this time only to raise it again as the man took another step forward. “Okay. Let’s start with your name stranger.”

“Me? My name’s John,” he replied nervously and thought better of stepping any closer.

“Now,” I demanded, “explain to me what you’re talking about.”

“The cities are nearly empty…most of the towns too. The few people left are either sick or dying. The healthy ones, most of the young or adult have just disappeared. I guess there’s no simpler way to say it. It’s the end of the world,” he explained with a disbelieving chuckle. “Armageddon.”

“How?” I doubted.

“No one knows,” John replied. “It started about a year ago. It was only a few at first. You know, people you really wouldn’t miss went missing: the homeless, orphans, that sort of thing. The uptake in missing persons was so subtle at first that most people didn’t even notice the rise. Then, some people stopped showing up for work. People missed parties and appointments and nobody could get ahold of them. Whole families disappeared, then whole neighborhoods, then whole towns. The cities became ghost towns, with most of the remaining people terrified to even leave their homes.”

“So why are you and I still standing here talking to each other?”

“No one knows,” the man replied. “That’s just it. The vanishings seem to start where there are more than just a few people. The only other thing they could figure out was that the sick were spared, like anyone with an infection or cancer or taking too many medications were left alone. Just about the only people left now are the sick or dying.”

“So you tried to outrun it?” I reasoned and lowered my rifle.

“Exactly,” he affirmed. “Whatever it was seemed to be worse in the cities…worse where the most people lived.”

“You wait right there,” I demanded. “If you move, I’ll try not to miss.” I back into my cabin and pulled my laptop from a drawer just to the side of the door. I had a little power to use and, even though I hadn’t used it in months, I powered it up from just inside my cabin with my gun still aimed out the door.

True enough, something was wrong. I’d always been able to get a good signal from my satellite internet. Now, there was next to nothing. While, some websites seemed to still work, most of the information on them was months out of date, like no one had bothered to maintain them. When I pulled up Google, an emergency bulletin flashed across my screen that read:

‘Emergency protocols are in effect. You are instructed to remain indoors until the crisis has passed. For updates on the current situation, click the following link.’

I did and the internet took me to a FEMA website in the United States that hadn’t been updated in at least a month. The last update was a bit chilling, to be sure. It simply said, ‘Despite our best efforts, there seems to be no answer to the vanishings. The current worldwide population stands at approximately 500 million and declining. May God have mercy on us all.’

That was it. That was the last post…over a month ago. The entire world had gone to hell and I missed it. So, I poked my head outside. John was still in the same place I left him, mostly because I had the barrel of my gun pointed directly at him the whole time. I lowered it and, despite my doubts and better judgement said, “Well, shit. You hungry?”

“Starving,” he said.


II

I still didn’t trust John. Sure, everything he said seemed to be true, at least from what I could decipher over the fractured internet. I had a short wave radio too and, despite every channel, I couldn’t raise a soul. So, we sat at the table in the center of my small cabin and I placed some food for the both of us. I thought it odd from the start that a man who claimed to be starving really took his time with his soup. He spent more time stirring the venison broth with his spoon than he did eating it.

“So what’s your plan?” I finally asked.

“You know,” he said with a chuckle, “I hadn’t really thought about it past escaping from the city. Man, I just had to get out of there.”

“What makes you think it’ll be any different here?” I asked. “I mean, people are missing from all over, yeah?”

“Well, I couldn’t just sit there. Whatever was making everyone disappear was going to have to chase me.”

“Chase you here?” I asked, pretending to be alarmed by the implication but really wasn’t. Whatever was taking everyone wouldn’t get me as easily. Still, the statement was enough to make John squirm a bit.

“I’m not sure,” he said, indicating that he really hadn’t considered the prospect of endangering someone else as he fled. “Frankly, nobody has any idea what’s going on, so who knows.”

“Well, if something is taking all the people in the world and you’ve led that something here, I expect you to leave in the morning,” I said.
John looked up from his soup without answering then said, “You should probably leave too. Whatever it is will get you too, eventually.”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take,” I replied. “I’m more than content here and if I’m to meet my end, it’ll be here on my own land and under my terms. So, I’ll be expecting you to be on your way in the morning. I’ll give you some supplies, some food and a few other survival tools to make your way in the rugged country, though I’m not sure how far a city man like you will get in the mountains. The bush isn’t exactly a country club. Even so, I’m the type that appreciates my privacy and I’ve done well enough for years without people around me. And I’m for sure not gonna be your babysitter.”

“So, you’re just going to kick me out?”

“Yes, sir,” I replied plainly.


III

The next morning started out as quietly as any other. My unwanted guest was still asleep on the floor as I cracked the door to my little cabin. I was used to arising before the sun and it had just peaked over the nearest mountain range staining the slopes on the far side of the valley a brilliant orange.

The nights were getting cold and I meant to chop some wood to feed my woodpile for the long winters we have here in the north. Even with what John said and what I’d seen with my own eyes, I was only mostly convinced the world was coming to an end. Come what may, I still needed at least enough wood for the inevitable cold that I knew for sure was coming. That’s when I noticed it…the subtlety of that particular morning. It was too quiet…almost a spooky quiet. While the wind blew gently through the pines, not a single bird sang its song that morning. The woods were cold in a way that was more than just a chill in the air. So, Axe in hand, and Smith & Wesson at my waist, I meant to find out why. I stepped away from my cabin and crossed the clearing.

The forest at the far side was dead calm. I should explain that when you live on your own in the woods as long as I have, every sound of the wilds become familiar. The chirping of birds, rummaging of squirrels and other varmints, even the movement of larger game can be heard from far off. This morning, there was absolutely nothing.

Now, your average person probably wouldn’t even have noticed what I found in the woods across from my place, but I sure as hell did. I spent my whole career looking for subtleties…looking for things being out of place. So, you can understand that when I spied the faint distortion in the trees ahead, I was more than alarmed. I tightened the grip on my axe and moved immediately into the brush.

It was something…I wasn’t quite sure. Whatever it was sat hovering in the trees about a hundred yards in front of me, perfectly camouflaged…so well, in fact, that you could barely see it’s outline against the forest. Shaped not much unlike a football, it hovered as a ghostly ripple in the air, quiet as can be and apparently not aware that I was so close. Even so, the thing didn’t move. So, I crept in closer.

Just yards away now, I could hear the hidden ghost humming as it floated in mid-air. The thing hadn’t moved at all with my approach so I took a chance and emerged from the brush. Still, it sat completely motionless, without a hint of movement in my direction. If this was some sort of spaceship or something, either its pilot was asleep or absent.

Inching closer, I ran my fingers along the object and met the solid surface of a ship’s hull. It shimmered at my slightest touch and the gray metal exposed itself just under my palm before disappearing again. There was no mistaking, this had to be a vessel, an alien spaceship. ‘Invasion… that had to explain the disappearing people,’ I thought.

In truth I was more than a little alarmed. There’s no way Earth could be prepared for an alien invasion. Humans are too content in their own mastery of their tiny microcosm, how could anyone hope to stop a rogue force from another planet. Still, what I was witnessing was undeniable. Just feet away from me, a camouflaged alien ship hovered quietly in the woods and people were disappearing all over the world.

Then, without warning, electrical bolts shot from the ship into my body and every muscle seized up. The last thing I saw before I lost consciousness was that sneaky bastard John emerging from the woods and tucking a small device into his pocket.


IV

I finally awoke strapped to a wall in a dimmed room. I could vaguely make out the details of the space and it definitely wasn’t human. The area crawled with a red circuitry that throbbed and pulsed, the walls crawling as if they were alive. If ever a man were living in a horror film this was it. Every conduit and console oozed and writhed, dripping blackened excretions onto a cold metal floor before pouring into a drain at the center of the room. On the far side, a window opened into a massive alien chamber lined with columns and rows of thousands of capsules. Almost like a library would stack books, every pod was tucked neatly in place and inside every pod was a person, naked and suspended in goo. I had found the missing people…at least some of them, anyways.

From the shadows, I heard the grinding of metal against metal. “Good. You’re awake,” I heard John say. His back was to me and he had a series of long knives laid out on the table in front of him.

“Who the hell are you?” I asked as I struggled against my restraints. I’ll admit that I’m a pretty tough sonofabitch, but this scene was more than bad. The stench, the oozing froth, the grinding of metal all turned my stomach. Even so, I was probably more pissed than scared at that point. I mean, there I was, strapped tightly against the wall as that bastard stood with his back to me, sharpening his knives.

“I’m glad we were able to bring you in so easily,” John noted. “You know, there’s a reason we leave the sick behind.”

“Yeah? Why’s that?” I asked.

“Because their meat is fouled,” he admitted and turned to me with a sickening knife in hand.

A chill ran down my spine. “What are you going to do to me?” I asked.

“Well, your type of meat, on the other hand, is a delicacy…disease free and raised off the land. A free range human, not chained to the cages of your city and thriving off the toxins and pollutants that clog this world. You, my friend, are a very expensive commodity. There are so few humans left who live a natural lifestyle, it drives the price for your meat that much higher,” he noted and turned away again, sharpening his blades.

“So what about it? What are your going to do?”

He continued grinding at his blade. “Butcher you, of course,” John said. “You’ll fetch quite price on the market. We’ve already sent quite a few samples and the price is soaring, but quality is everything. Of course, I’ll keep a bit for myself. A finder’s fee, you know. You’re a top quality human in high demand, to be sure.”

“Human?” I said, trying to bide my time and probe him for information. I had a little secret of my own that he’d missed. “Whatever gave you the impression that I was human?”

John turned again to me just as his virtual imager shifted. I had his attention now at least and I could tell he was nervous. Anxiety distorts a cheap holographic imager. “There’s nothing you can do to talk your way out of your predicament,” he replied. “In fact, I’m glad you’re awake, as we begin. Your adrenaline improves the quality of your meat and I hope your glands are at full production,” he said with hungry eyes then turned away again.

The sound of the scraping and grinding of metal was tortuous. Next, I asked him, “Have you ever heard of the Sulan?” The grinding stopped immediately and his imager shifted again. Still, he stood with his back to me.

“Never heard of ‘em,” he replied then returned to his work.

“Oh, I think you have,” I corrected. “That cheap black market identity imager doesn’t lie.”

He turned to me again. “What about them?”

“What if I told you there was a Sulan on Earth?” I asked.

“And you’d like to trade this information for your life?”

“In a matter of speaking,” I lied. “What if I told you that this particular Sulan, retired to Earth?”

“And what would you know about it?” He stepped from the shadows, his eyes drawn narrow. “You’re just a lonely hermit…a tasty morsel too afraid of even his own kind.”

“Afraid?” I replied calmy. “Is that what you think? That I’m afraid?” I started to chuckle and it must have unnerved him. His imager shifted enough for me to tell that he was not human at all. In fact, I could tell that enough of him was machine. Perfect.
With a scowl, John turned back to his work. “So, what about this Sulan of yours?” he asked, trying to hide is growing anxiety. “Can you tell me where to find him?”

“Of course.”

“And I’m sure you’ll want your freedom in exchange?”

“No.” That answer really vexed him, but by the time he turned to face me again, I had already begun powering up my implants. It was a gamble, pissing him off like that. I hadn’t used the cybernetic relays for so long and wasn’t even sure how they’d respond. When I retreated to woods, I chose never to use them again…to live like a man in the wilds of the world. I had more than a cheap imager. I’d used enough credits when I left the Guild to buy a new identity, a true human physiology, even as painful as the procedure was. Still, I’m glad I kept my cybernetic implants. I could feel the energy surging through my body, the plasma energy charging up my enhancements. “You do know what a Sulan is, right?” I asked and he didn’t respond.

I didn’t need him to answer, that his holographic emitter suddenly failed was enough to know that he had probably dumped a load in his pants. With a snap of my finger, I triggered my security scrambler and my arm was immediately released from its restraints. Calmly, as if I had planned the whole event ahead of time, I released my other arm and legs and then stepped coolly down. “You see, a Sulan is a master assassin. In fact, I’d argue to say there’s no more feared weapon on the universe.” John slowly backed away. He knew he was way over his head. “I probably should have explained to you why I lived in the woods,” I said as I massaged the faint bluish glow coming from my hands. “I had seen enough…had done enough…had spilled enough blood for every world and corporation in the galaxy. I chose the Earth because it was quiet. I mean, who would be dumb enough to travel all the way out to the galactic rim to bother me here?” John’s organic parts were turning green. “Sure, I loved living the woods, away from other sentient beings. It gave me freedom, but it also kept the people of this world safe…safe from me.”

“But…but, if you’ve been retired, why are you still alive?” the alien John nervously asked.

“Because, I’ve killed every hatchet-man sent to retire me. I thought they’d finally given up. I mean, I’ve kept to myself and it’s been years since the last Dispatcher. I didn’t think that even in a million years would some stupid race come to this remote planet. Then again, I suppose I shouldn’t have forgotten the Kriil.” I charged toward him and lifted him from the floor by his mechanical throat. “That’s right, I know who you are. Your kind is a plague, a pestilence in the galaxy, harvesting sentient races for food and technology. You were given enough biotech and resources to cure yourselves millennia ago. The Concordia prohibits the additional harvesting of sentient worlds by your kind. Why the Earth? Why break your agreement here?”

“Because they couldn’t fight us…” John managed to say between gasps. “…and because they’re delicious.”

“Well, I’ve grown rather fond of my home now and I’ve grown rather fond of the humans.”

“What are you going to do?” he struggled to ask.

“I’m not going to kill you, if that’s what you’re wondering. At least not right away. First, I’m going to break every bone and support in your frail body. I want you to watch as I take your entire operation here apart piece by piece. I’m going to release every human you have in your cryo-storage and return them to their cities. Sure, there’ll be some explaining to do; some to the humans but I think that the Galactic Counsel needs to know they can finally implement The Cleansing. Huh…I’ll probably even get a clean record for this…a truly fresh start. Your species’ time in this galaxy is now finished, I’m afraid.”

“There’s hundreds of thousands of us. You’ll never be able to fight us all.”

“You’ve never faced a Sulan before have you?” I asked and he managed to shake his head. “There could never be enough of you to stop me,” I added as my reactor powered up to full.

My retirement ended with a bone chilling shriek as I severed his mechanical spine.