Part 1: The End of Mankind #7

Post date: Mar 5, 2016 3:48:34 PM

Part 1: The End of Mankind

Fisher’s world spun wildly, teetered precariously, and then tilted horribly to the side.

Fisher screamed.

The wheel behind her lifted up into the air. The horrified sound of her cry reverberated in the confines of her helmet. She was about to die a most violent death, in a vehicular crash, no less. This wasn’t how she envisioned the end of her days on Earth to be.

Fisher instinctively grabbed the roll bar above her head while reaching for the back of Baylee’s seat with her other hand. If she was lucky the roll bar would actually do what it was intended to do: to protect her as the vehicle rolled over.

Fisher braced herself, even though she knew she should try and relax her muscles. If she could make herself flexible and fluid she might have a chance of not shattering every bone in her body upon impact.

Great advice in theory. But Fisher wasn’t very good in the theory department. That was Bay’s job. Fisher was more of the practical kind. Steadfast, one foot in front of the other, as she made her way stoically, if not cheerfully, through life.

Only this was now the end of her life and she-

A wave of wetness crashed over her, engulfing her. It slammed into the side of her body with immense force and began gushing all around her. Fisher gasped. Her momentum halted and she felt herself floating, if that was possible, on a torrid wall of moisture. Her skin inside her jumpsuit felt scorched yet soothed all at the same time.

The vehicle unexplainably righted itself and Fisher gasped again as the tire behind her once more touched down onto the rutted highway with a resounding jar.

Fisher bounced in the backseat, her head snapping backward. Her helmet whacked hard against the headrest. Light and colour flashed before her eyes. The harness crisscrossing her chest dug painfully into her breasts.

“Yee…ouwww.” She uttered in a loud groan.

“Butterfield!”

Baylee’s cry was overly harsh causing Fisher to squeeze her eyes shut. Still Baylee’s voice pushed on.

“Are you okay? Are you injured? Butterfield. Fisher, dammit-answer me!”

Fisher forced her eyes into squinting. She took a shallow breath.

“So…kay. Al…ght.”

Light continued to flash before Fisher’s eyes, like millions of tiny stars glistening in a starry sky. Only she’d never actually seen a starry sky, but only seen what the night sky had once looked like from her hologram pocket switch.

Hands suddenly gripped Fisher’s shoulders. She felt herself being unstrapped from the seat harness. Then the shield on her helmet was raised.

Fisher blinked several times. A fuzzy Baylee appeared before her. Actually two imagines of Baylee swam before her eyes.

Fisher shook her head and regretted the action immediately. Her stomach lurched and then turned over. Bile began to rise in her chest. Fisher shoved the nearest Baylee out of the way and leapt from the vehicle. She just barely got the helmet off of her head and thrown to the side before she wretched, emptying the contents of her stomach out onto the ground.

Fisher’s stomach heaved again and again.

If there was one thing she’d just learned in the last few minutes, it was that her mother’s dreams of Fisher becoming a candidate for space exploration were now spewed all over the greasy pavement before her.

There was no way her brain would endure the vigorous training that a candidate was required to submit too. If a small thing like the spinning and the feeling of weightlessness were enough to unsettle her equilibrium to the point of puking her guts out, she’d never pass the essential testing of being strapped into a gyroscope or to pass the zero gravity training in a wind tunnel bubble.

Baylee’s frantic voice finally penetrated Fisher’s foggy mind.

Fisher glanced to the side, spit out a few tiny chunks of vomit that she felt clinging to her bottom lip. She spotted the tissue Baylee was waving at her.

Fisher took the surprisingly dry piece of cloth considering the two of them were still encased in a strange form of a wet mass of heated moisture.

Fisher wiped her mouth and then hesitated a moment before tossing the tissue aside. She cringed a little as she watched the tissue drop to the ground. Littering was an indictable offence.

But what did she care? No doubt, she was now trapped here on Earth. Being caught for littering seemed like the least of her future worries. The authorities might as well lock her up and throw away the key. She wasn’t going anywhere, anytime soon.

Baylee’s voice softened. “Here let’s get you up.”

Fisher groaned.

Baylee latched onto Fisher’s right arm and gently hefted her unceremoniously to her feet. Fisher swayed. Her head was still spinning but the need to retch had thankfully passed.

“I don’t mean to push you, Butterfield, but we should get moving. This isn’t someplace we want to dawdle.”

Fisher swallowed and gave Baylee a small nod.

Baylee handed her her helmet and then began to brush off the wet mass from Fisher’s shoulders. Her hands travelled down Fisher’s arms as if the moisture was no more than dust particles.

Fisher sucked in a breath, her eyes widened.

With each pass of Baylee’s hands she saw more of the substance cling to Baylee. Swirling, floating, sparkling a beautiful reddish orange in the early morning light.

Baylee’s eyes met Fisher’s.

Fisher saw a look of regret pass over her best friend’s features.

Baylee stepped back. The mass of wet moisture followed.

It hovered and shimmered a scant inch from Baylee’s outstretched hands. Then to Fisher’s shock the mass shifted and began to form into a shape that resembled Baylee’s right hand.

The tinted orange, glowing form then began to grow and soon an exact duplicate shape of Baylee’s right arm and shoulder began to appear.

“Stop!” Fisher cried and jerked backwards. She stumbled on a section of buckled highway.

The orangey mass quickly shot out towards her. She felt it zip by her ear and then she felt it press hard against her back. She stopped mid-fall on her descent to the asphalt.

Fisher shivered and started hyperventilating as her feet were once more placed securely onto the rutted highway. Her eyes widened further when she saw Baylee clench her right fist and then open her hand to splay her fingers wide.

The wet, orange mass immediately broke up and dissipated into the cold misty morning air.

Fisher’s startled eyes flew to Baylee’s.

Baylee lifted one shoulder. She gave Fisher a half smile.

“I’ve been lying to you…a bit.”

Fisher snorted. “Ya think! Only a bit? Baylee, what the hell just happened? What is going on? What was that shit?”

Baylee took a deep breath and nodded.

“I’ll explain everything, but we need to go…now. It’s starting to get light.”

Fisher shook herself and followed suit as Baylee put her helmet back on and gestured for Fisher to do the same.

The two of them got back into the upright vehicle and strapped themselves back in.

“Alright, Dewey,” Baylee spoke.

“Dewey?”

“I’ll explain later. Dewey, show me the way.”

A flash of light shot up from the road ahead. It hovered directly in front of the trike and then veered off to the left.

The light was small at first, then it began to grow.

Fisher was sure she’d just gone mad, or suffering from a wicked concussion, for the light started to shape itself into a closed-fisted hand complete with an outstretched index finger.