If you’ve seen Independence Day or World War Z, you probably think the end of the world is some exciting spectacle, and maybe it is for the soldiers fighting above. Unfortunately, for civilians like me and Sako, it’s like waiting in an hour-long line for a roller coaster. You get to hear those on the ride scream, and it sounds fun, but you’re still stuck in line, your phone dead and nothing to do.
It’s kind of like that. I get to hear everything that’s happening, yet I’ve seen none of it.
So, let’s take it from the top.
Humanity kind of stood a chance, at first. The problem is, the ‘HET’, as they’re calling them (hostile extraterrestrials), are a unique strain of alien invaders that act more like endlessly reproducing monsters than intelligent life.
The HET attacks, consumes, and abducts humans for purposes we don’t know. All we’ve been able to deduce is that they come from the large metal caterpillars floating above every densely populated town and city. Those needles I saw the day the attack began? Those were actually enemy vessels, and they continue raining down every day at irregular intervals. We don’t know what the HET are or why they’re here, but we do know that they want us gone.
Now, the strangest part of the HET is that they all look and function differently. And I’m not talking about the color of their skin or the way that they talk (they don’t talk). I mean, they appear to be completely different species, yet remain in perfect harmony for the sole purpose of eradicating humanity.
It’s the equivalent of humans, badgers, polar bears, ants, and orcas creating a coalition of interspecies soldiers to kill every other living being on Earth. Things that are normally completely different seem to be connected in a way we cannot understand.
I have yet to see one of these HET in real life, but I imagine the world outside of the bunker looks like a Lovecraft-meets-Tolkien wet dream.
All I can really do is listen to the radio, War of the Worlds style, because all the major TV networks have shut down. The internet too. That was almost as devastating as seeing my mom's body months earlier, which surprisingly didn’t hurt for very long. She might not have been physically abusive toward me, but she was the most emotionally distant, uncaring mother I ever did see. And the only one I ever did see.
Even so, I can’t help but feel I’m missing something important now that she’s gone. Perhaps I didn’t have love for her in the traditional, familial sense, but I sure was attached to her familiarity.
It’s like losing your appendix. You don’t care that it’s there, but when it’s gone, you kind of wish it wasn’t. Then, when you realize your life isn’t that much different without it, you stop caring altogether.
What I’m trying to say is that I’m a worthless appendix daughter to a worthless appendix mother, and the world doesn’t care if we’re gone. Because we’re appendixes.
If not for Sako, I probably would have been much more depressed thinking about all of this in the bunker’s depths. Luckily, we shared a room the whole time, and every day, she would light up those dreary corridors with her radiant smile. She’s just so cheery and positive when she speaks; I can’t help but reflexively smile at the sight of her. She’s certainly a far cry from the stereotypical popular-girl persona I'd assigned to her before we met.
Still, not even her peppy demeanor could distract me from the fact that the world was ending. You could hear it in the radio broadcaster’s voice. Each day, his tone got a little bit softer and a little less hopeful.
During the first week, it was pretty routine. “Guns and cannons work on the HET-alien-monster-things, so there’s nothing to worry about! We can just kill them all!”
That was just a pipe dream. The naivety of humanity.
A few weeks later, the world realized just how in over its head it really was. Regimes began to fall. Governments collapsed. New strains of the HET kept appearing, and guns weren’t quite as effective as we originally thought. Sure, they worked on some, but not all. Apparently, some had gooey, jellyfish-like bodies that bullets just phased through. Some were golem-like beasts made of skin as tough as rock. Some could fly as fast as an F1 jet. Pretty crazy stuff, honestly.
That said, not once did the announcer say that a new threat couldn’t be killed; it’s just that some were harder to kill than others. Don’t underestimate humanity’s ability to create murder weapons.
But technology wasn’t the problem. It was their seemingly endless numbers. No matter how hard the military fought, more HET kept appearing.
Tell me, how does fighting an infinite supply of soldiers go when you have to do it for a long period of time, all while the world’s economy is falling apart? The logistics fail, and everything begins to collapse.
You can ask a certain Austrian painter about that one.
Okay, so why don’t we just use the classic American solution and ‘nuke ‘em’? This is only speculation on my part, but I can think of a few reasons. Firstly, the HET are attracted to densely populated cities around the globe. If you nuke them, you nuke what you’re trying to protect, and that's counterintuitive.
Secondly, I don’t think there’s even anyone to launch them anymore. If they were gonna go full nuclear apocalypse, they should’ve done it at the beginning. They hesitated, and now the people who could launch them are either gone or cowering underground with piss in their pants. Plus, with all major power grids down and most of humanity in the dark, I doubt they could coordinate anything worthwhile.
So now, after months of fighting, the American government, along with many others, dissipated into dust. Or rather, they faded into obscurity. I’m sure they still exist, hiding in bunkers like this one, but without a proper army to command or subjects to rule, those old politicians are no different from us.
Yep, we’re all just waiting to die like dogs. I never thought about it before, but I truly hate slow, painstaking end-of-the-world scenarios.
Frankly, I don’t give two shits about myself or most anyone else. The only one I wish I could spare from all this was Sako. She really doesn’t deserve to share such a desolate fate.
Even now, as we listen to the radio crackle, waiting for it to bring updates on humanity’s doom, she continues to smile…
“Hey,” I say, breaking a long silence. “How can you still smile after all of this?”
My voice is curt. Tired.
“In times like these, smiling is one of the few ways we can remain hopeful,” Sako says. “You just have to see the bright side of things! Why don’t you give it a try?”
“Oh, I see!” I say sarcastically. “My mom was a total bitch. I’m glad she killed herself on my birthday. Also, the literal fucking rapture that happened right after is a real blast.”
“This isn’t the rapture,” she says with a completely serious face. “At least, I don’t think so.”
“Of course it’s not,” I say. “Because god isn’t real.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Oh yeah?” I ask, curling my lip. “Then where is he? Why isn’t he here protecting us in these trying times? I’m sure billions of people were praying to him when they were killed, so why hasn’t he done anything? Is he on vacation or something? Were those PTO prayers?”
“I don’t know,” she says.
I really am the worst. She’s definitely a good Christian girl who just wants everyone else to be happy. She doesn’t deserve this, and she definitely doesn’t deserve to be trapped in a room with a cynical bitch like me. I hope she’s right in the end, so she can go to heaven and I can burn in hell, just like I deserve.
That defeated look really doesn’t suit her, so I quickly change the subject.
“Ahem. Hey, so, I know my family situation is f’ed, but what about you?” I ask. “Why didn’t you come with your mom and dad?”
She’s surprised at first, but quickly curves her lips into a smile.
“Oh, well, that’s because they were loaded onto another truck,” she says. “They took the last two seats, so I had to be put on another one. I’m sure they’re safe in another bunker.”
“Are you sure?” I ask. “Aren’t you worried?”
“Of course I am,” she says. “You see me praying every night over my bed, right? I’m praying for their safety. I know that if I believe hard enough, my thoughts will reach them.”
“Seems kind of pointless,” I say.
“It’s the only thing I can really do,” she says. Then, she gets up and kneels down at her bedside, placing her elbows on the mattress. She clasps her hands together and brings them to her face as she closes her eyes.
She looks like a holy nun, so pure and so innocent.
For reasons unbeknownst to me, I feel inclined to kneel down beside her and do the same. Pray, I mean.
“I thought you didn’t believe in god,” I hear her say through closed eyes.
“Maybe not, but just in case, I think I’ll start repenting now,” I say. “Can’t hurt, I guess.”
I hear her giggling. “So, what are you praying for?”
“Your parents' safety,” I say. “Isn’t that what you’re doing?”
“But you’ve never even met them,” she says.
“Yeah, but I figure if we do it together, your thoughts might have a better chance at reaching them,” I say. “Like how a bigger satellite dish has better reception.”
“You love mocking me, don’t you?” she asks playfully.
“No, I’m serious-”
I’m cut off when the radio springs to life with a voice, but it’s not the usual broadcaster we have it tuned to. It’s a distorted, high-pitched man speaking frantically, almost incoherently. We quickly rush over and fiddle with the dial until we can hear his voice clearly.
“To whom still remains,” the voice says. “Civilization as you know it has collapsed, but this isn’t the end of humanity. Not yet. Not when we’ve still got Project AIGODS. This is the final contingency we have to preserve our species. Time is short, and I am not long for this world, but all will be apparent soon. I will say this before I part: the fate of our species no longer rests on the shoulders of something as paltry as military might or fickle politics. Whether humankind persists far into the future or two million years of evolution ends here is entirely up to you, those who remain.”
I have no idea what he’s talking about, but it sounds like Aragorn trying to motivate his men at the Black Gate. Seriously, I don’t understand where people get the energy in times like this. It really annoys me to no end. Just shut up and die silently like the rest of us. If the military lost, then what the hell can some forlorn survivors stowed away in metal basements do?
“Project AIGODS is our Hail Mary,” the voice continues. “Those of you hiding in bunkers and bases, I implore you to go outside and feel the air. My greatest creation is already flowing across the land, seeping into every crack and crevice. Take upon my final gift to you, and preserve our kind.”
I look at Sako, who is just as confused as I am. We’re not quite sure whether the voice on the radio is serious, or just someone pulling one final prank on what remains of humanity. Still, we listen to every last word it has to say.
“The borders you once knew no longer exist,” the voice announces. “Cultural differences, racism, politics, and religious squabbles are a thing of the past. All that’s left is you, the people of not a single country or color or class, but of Earth, to fight for your right to remain on this miraculous world. If we are consigned to oblivion, then so be it, but when all is said, and all is done, let the record show that we were here.”
The radio goes silent, this time for good. Sako immediately gets up and begins to walk away from the table.
“Where are you going?” I ask.
“Outside,” she says.
“Are you nuts?” I ask. “Just because one lunatic was screaming on the radio, that doesn’t mean you have to listen to him.”
“It’s better than doing nothing,” she says. “Besides, we’ve been in here for months. I could use some fresh air.”
“Oh yeah, and I’m sure those monsters could use some fresh meat,” I mutter. “I bet they’d love someone with a soft, tender body like yours.”
“If that’s your attempt at flirting, you’re really bad at it,” she says callously.
“I’m serious,” I say.
“So am I,” she says. “You know what they say: nothing ventured, nothing gained.”
“You could die,” I say.
“So what am I supposed to do then?” she asks, raising her voice in a way I never could have imagined someone like her could. “Wait here until we run out of food and water, then die slow, unglamorous deaths anyway? No one’s coming to save us, Lily. Worse yet, we have no idea what it’s like out there. All we’ve had these past few months was the radio telling us everything's gone to heck, and we’ve been eating it like babies. I’ve never even seen one of those aliens. If I’m going to die, I at least want to see the thing that’s making humanity go extinct.”
“But the guards-” I start.
“The guards are in the same boat as us,” she says, cutting me off. “With the government gone, they don’t answer to anyone. If they really feel so passionate about not letting me out, then they can shoot me where I stand. I’m going, and that’s that!”
Of course she’s headstrong. It’s an essential trait for someone like her. Honestly, I kind of like it. I know my cynical way of thinking is usually in the wrong, and to have someone call me out on it is oddly comforting.
Knowing that there’s nothing left to say and no way to stop her, I follow her. I follow her through the gloomy halls all the way to the stairs. Up, up we go, walking toward the surface. The surface we haven’t seen in many months.
It’s kind of funny, really. A place that’s supposed to feel cramped and trapped is actually comforting for someone like me. I don’t actually want to leave because it’s familiar. Just like Mom was. But I don’t think Sako feels the same.
A bird like her needs to fly.
When we get to the entrance bay, the door is already wide open, and golden rays of sunshine are gushing in. Hand in hand, we walk abreast out into the world, letting the warmth of day caress our skin for the first time in a while.
Our eyes adjust and look around, but we don’t see a world on fire, ravaged by mythical beasts and corpses everywhere as we expected. No, we see sprawling green grass ahead in the woodland clearing where the bunker was built. We hear birds chirping and the occasional gust of wind wisp past our ears, yet not a single HET.
I begin to wonder if they lied to us. Maybe it’s a cruel social experiment or some kind of government test.
As far as I can tell, the only real difference is that the air feels heavier. Noticeably heavier. Like gravity pressing down on my entire body. It’s not overbearing, but it’s certainly there, and definitely wasn’t like this before.
I know something strange is happening, and I know Sako can feel it too as she cautiously glances around, squeezing my hand tighter.
The others in the bunker are doing the same, wandering around aimlessly like zombies looking for a purpose.
Our confusion doesn’t last long, because something incredible happens.
Right there, before our very eyes, a holographic screen appears in front of each of us, and a robotic voice rings in our heads.
“Project AIGODS Activated. Protocol: Extinction.”