Humanity's Endgame Read online

  Contents

  Introduction

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Epilogue

  Copyright © 2020/2021 Eve Langlais

  Cover Art © Yocla Designs 2020

  Produced in Canada

  www.EveLanglais.com

  EBook ISBN: 978 177 384 205 9

  Print ISBN: 978 177 384 206 6

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  This book is a work of fiction and the characters, events and dialogue found within the story are of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, either living or deceased, is completely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or shared in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including but not limited to digital copying, file sharing, audio recording, email and printing without permission in writing from the author.

  Introduction

  Humanity’s endgame was only the beginning for me.

  Aliens ended life as we know it on Earth.

  Not on purpose I should add, though that didn’t matter to the billions who died. But it turned out, in some respects, surviving was even worse.

  My family used to say good thing I was pretty. In case you were wondering, it didn’t help when the end of the world arrived.

  Alone, and afraid, somehow, I managed to hold on. Foraging for supplies. Eking out a hidden existence. Avoiding the mutants that emerged after the alien plague.

  I’d resigned myself to dying alone, which was when I literally fell into Xavion’s arms.

  And I managed to find love in the apocalypse.

  Prologue

  The stench of despair and death surrounded me. I’d finally run out of luck. In this dark and dirty place, I’d finally entered the last stage of my life.

  The endgame.

  How had it come to this?

  Five years ago, I thought the most pressing thing I had to worry about was how many people liked my latest selfie. The moment I’d post my very contrived picture—selected from about fifty—I was checking to see who liked it. Did anyone comment? Who could I see active online not responding at all?

  Back then I worried about all the wrong things. Petty things that took up my entire day when I wasn’t at work. And by work I meant the mindless drone of answering phones and making appointments for people in need of dental work.

  Facing certain, painful death, I missed my old life. Wished I’d not wasted those days when everything was going so fucking good. I could eat whenever I wanted, whatever I desired. Slept in a warm, clean, and comfortable bed. Knew nine-one-one was a phone call away if I needed help.

  Then it happened. The world ended.

  Not because of climate change—and for the curious, the only thing that improved after humanity stopped polluting was the smog. The weather remained just as unpredictable.

  Because of the predicted nuclear apocalypse? Wrong, although it did come close when North Korea had a missile malfunction. That was the end of that dictatorship.

  So what destroyed humanity?

  Remember the COVID pandemic of 2020? Nope, it wasn’t that.

  Nothing compared to the virus that wiped out billions of people. We had no cure. No way of stopping it. After all, it wasn’t manmade or from an animal on earth.

  Aliens did it.

  I still remember snorting in disbelief as the president of the United States, a man abhorred by half the nation, adored by the other, gave a speech, live streamed to everyone in the world and said, “My fellow Americans, we’ve made contact.”

  Chapter 1

  Five years ago…

  Lips pursed for the ultimate selfie—the pose called duck lips, a pouting thing that made me look sultrier—I found myself distracted when the waiting room for the dental group I worked for erupted into noisy chatter.

  Apparently, the president was giving an impromptu speech.

  Boring. Like I cared what some old dude had to say. One president or another, they were all the same. Constantly arguing. Claiming the last guy sucked. Making promises that were never kept.

  Blah. Blah. Blah.

  But then I heard a word that peaked my interest.

  Aliens.

  Say what?

  It didn’t take long to find the live stream. I played it from the beginning.

  “Citizens of the United States of America, what I am about to tell you is shocking, perhaps even scary, but I want to assure you that you have nothing to fear.”

  Wrong thing to say. My stomach immediately fluttered.

  Had Russia finally declared war? The media had been saying we needed to watch them for years, or was it China? Depending on the people in power, the enemy changed. Could even be that man in North Korea who liked wear his hair in a bowl cut.

  I’d lost track of who was more of a threat to the USA. Personally, I thought we should watch those sneaky Canadians. Always apologizing, hoarding their maple syrup, eating beaver’s tails. Shudder.

  The president then said the most unexpected thing. “My fellow Americans, we’ve made contact.”

  Well, that shut everyone in the press gallery right the fuck up. Except for one smartass, who said, “Bullshit.”

  “I assure you, it’s quite true, and you don’t have to take my word for it. We have proof.”

  Ha, as if. I still remembered that supposed space truck or something the government claimed to have in their possession a while back. Internet rumors claimed it was just some futuristic imagined car. Given it was the year of the COVID pandemic, no one paid it much mind.

  The screen to the president’s left began showing all kinds of boring stuff. Science mumbo jumbo about how they’d been sending signals into space. Watching for unusual movements and patterns. I fast forwarded until I was live with the briefing, which was when they finally got to the good part.

  Apparently, those science geeks sending out ‘Hello, anyone out there?’ signals got a reply back.

  There was skepticism. “How do you know you’re not being pranked?” An understandable concern, given the spacecar thing had spawned all kind of theories.

  A scientist took over at this point and went into more incomprehensible jargon about how they’d authenticated the message. How the hell did one verify a message really came from aliens? Was I the only one who wondered if he’d been punked?

  It was inevitable that this declaration of having made contact brought mention of Space Force. “Mr. President, what will Space Force do to ensure this supposed contact doesn’t threaten our country?”

  “I’m glad you asked. The good news is we’ve been preparing for a while now because we knew we weren’t alone out here in this great universe. But the better news is, all those defense mechanisms we’ve installed won’t be necessary. The aliens come in peace.”

  Of course, someone just had to say, “Isn’t the term alien derogatory?”

  “For the moment, we don’t have a better term, but I’m sure once we’ve established diplomatic relations, we’ll be able to come up with a name they consider suitable.”

  Ooh, well played.

  “Are they already here?” a reporter shouted from the back, the usual decorum being tossed out the window. />
  The president answered. “No. But we are expecting our first delegation shortly.”

  The press corps erupted, shouting questions, most of which had no answers.

  At that point, I tuned out and my mind went inward.

  Aliens were real. Would they be human-killing monsters like in the movies?

  Would they infect us so that alien babies burst from our bellies?

  Take us as slaves?

  Most important of all, I wondered if they were cute.

  Chapter 2

  The Present

  My stomach grumbled. My own fault. I’d waited until I got down to my last can of corn, only to discover it had gone rancid when I opened it.

  I almost cried. But I didn’t want to waste the fluids. The rancid can of corn got tossed in my compost heap in the apartment next door. I’d been trying to grow stuff but wasn’t having much luck despite placing it in front of a window that got sunlight. The best I’d managed was a few tiny carrots.

  Delicious I might add.

  Inside my own place, darkness reigned, the windows covered over so that, at night, no light could peek out. I’d checked and double-checked that I remained hidden. Just like every day, I made sure my traps were set, the ones that would warn me if someone, or something, came inside. A string of cans strung in the hall. Garbage in front of the stairwell door that would clatter if toppled.

  Thus far, I’d been lucky. I’d been living here for about five months. One hundred and forty seven days by the marks I’d made on my wall.

  Actually, Karen’s wall. I’d taken over her apartment and, with nothing better to do, had dug into her life. Karen enjoyed puzzles, knitting, and sweaters. So many sweaters.

  I didn’t wear one for my upcoming foraging trip. I preferred form-fitting, and dark, the better to blend with shadows as I did my best to slip around unseen.

  Once upon a time, I wanted to be seen. Now…I dreaded it.

  I waited until well after dawn before venturing outside. There was a time I used to avoid the sunlight. When the virus first hit, it didn’t take long to realize the symptoms of it got worse in the daytime, which ran contrary to every horror movie I’d ever watched.

  Something about the UV rays interacting with the alien spores released on Earth made the air dangerous to breathe, hence why I wore a mask the moment I stepped out of my safe room, which was on the second floor of a multi-unit building. Now, you might ask, why not the penthouse?

  I will mention, in the early days of the world’s end, when people died in the streets, some by the virus, others because madness reigned, I thought to myself, if I’m going to die, I want to do so in luxury. I walked—and ran—to a condo I’d always admired and rode the elevator up to the top floor, where I encountered a locked door that required an axe. Which it should be noted is not as easy to swing as you’d imagine. Noisy too. But once I managed to whack my way through, I claimed the most luxurious space for myself.

  A few weeks later, with no one to monitor the electrical grid, the power went out. It never returned and twenty-five flights of stairs was nobody’s idea of fun. My huffing-and-puffing ass relocated. Several places as it turned out over the next five years. I discovered it was easier to find a new building with many units I could scavenge as my base than forage and lug back stuff.

  This time, I’d exhausted not only the apartment complex I’d chosen but the entire block it perched on. It was time to go looking for a new home.

  As I crept outside, I remained alert. Only dead people didn’t pay attention to their environment, just like only the stupid didn’t hide at the first noise or hint of movement.

  I remember my first attack vividly. It was a wonder I didn’t die that first week after civilization ended. But I learned from my mistakes. Even had the scars to prove it.

  My soft-soled shoes didn’t make a sound as I tread carefully forth. I hated the idea of leaving my safe room; however, I’d stripped this building of usable food and items.

  Hunger tightened my belly and demanded I be brave and go forth and find a place where dry staples and canned goods gathered dust in empty apartments.

  At least being in the city, I had plenty to scavenge, but I remained conscious I wasn’t alone. Although I saw signs of other people less and less as time passed.

  In the beginning of the apocalypse, I used to run into folks, some of them the good kind that I hung with for a bit. Yet, after a while, either they got careless and killed or they moved on.

  Me? I was too scared to leave the city and the surety of finding food hidden in dusty cupboards. For much too long, I also held on to the hope that help would come. I didn’t want to be lost in the wilderness when it did.

  That hope eventually faded. As did my encounters with people. These days, loneliness threatened me most. What I wouldn’t give to hear another human voice. To feel someone’s touch. Masturbating was all well and good, but I missed someone going down on me.

  A hug would be nice as well.

  Hell, at this point, I’d suck a dick even if I never got the appeal before.

  The street outside the building had weeds growing up through the pavement. Each spring, after the winter melt, nature took back more and more of the city. Neatly pruned trees grew wild. Windows cracked over time, and the glass shards littered the pavement. The one thing not seen that I’d expected from the movies was the scraps of paper being tossed around, maybe even a tumbleweed for shits and giggles.

  The reality proved more stark.

  And inescapable.

  The city was a dead place. I knew it, and yet, I couldn’t seem to bring myself to muster the courage to leave. Although, every time I changed buildings, I moved closer to the edge of the city. On foot.

  See, I didn’t own a car when the virus hit. Like many, I locked myself away, and hoped I wouldn’t get sick and die. I’d seen the videos before the internet shut down.

  People sweating and crying out, their bodies thrashing. Dying in agony. But that seemed preferable to what happened to the others.

  By the time it occurred to me I should leave town, the transit system had shut down. I didn’t have a car. I couldn’t rent one, or even pay for a ride.

  The services I relied on quit, leaving me with only my two feet. It was why I’d gone only about five miles in five years. That and fear.

  Every time I left my hidey-hole I exposed myself. What if someone—something…—spotted me? Attacked me in the open or followed me home?

  What if I wasn’t careful enough when it came to protecting myself and I got sick? For all that being alone sucked, I didn’t want to die.

  But my biggest fear of all was what if I got to the edge of the city and there was nothing? Just even more quiet streets and dead houses. Less food because suburbia tended to be more spread out. Although maybe I could grow some vegetables.

  And kill them with my epically bad, gardening instincts.

  My foreboding wasn’t helped by the fact I’d not seen any animals in a long time. Not normal ones at any rate. I didn’t like to think of that thing I’d once seen that might have been a cat. Leaping down from a lamppost, its body wider than normal and tiny legs growing from it. Its eyes a milky white.

  Nightmares now walked the Earth. Had everything died or become perverted?

  My foot scuffed pavement, and in my mind, I might as well have blown a bugle shouting, “Here I am!”

  I paused. Sweated a bit. Put my hand on the comforting weight of the gun by my side. A false confidence since I’d not practiced using it. Didn’t even know if it would fire. Which was why I also had a knife in a sheath, plus another strapped to my calf.

  You couldn’t hesitate or give into squeamishness in the apocalypse.

  Nothing moved, and yet I breathed hard inside my mask, making myself lightheaded. I wanted to rip it off and gulp the air, but I kept my mask on. I’d not remained alive this long to be stupid now.

  At times, though, I wondered if I should bother. I remembered all the arguments on masks. None
truly fully filtered virus particles. So explain how I remained alive? What if removing it finally allowed the virus to take root.

  The mask stayed on.

  And as I continued on my quest for a new apartment, I remembered the day the world technically ended.

  Chapter 3

  The Past

  The world buzzed with excitement.

  Two days after the president’s announcement that they’d made contact with aliens, everyone talked about what first contact would mean.

  Some saw it as a positive thing, others as a calamity. You could class the opinions into a few groups.

  The jealous country leaders who lost out to that brash American when it came to first contact. For once, the American media united and thumbed their respective noses and took pride in the fact aliens recognized the USA’s greatness.

  The next kind of people were the ones who claimed they knew aliens existed all along and it would bring a new age of enlightenment. The sale of Star Trek uniforms and even Stars War ensembles rocketed.

  Then there were the doomsayers. The end was nigh. The religious repented. They also bought guns. Food. Everything they could get their hands on.

  Me?

  I went shopping for a new outfit. I wasn’t alone. Many of my generation were giddy about meeting alien life.

  And finally, there was one final group, who, as usual, contradicted everything the president said. But not many people listened to their rabid ranting about the head of the republic. They despised him, so they weren’t about to take his word. Nor did they accept his proof or the testimony of scientists. The opposition party claimed the president mentally unfit and in need of removal. Screamed it loud and for everyone to hear.