Cold Apocalypse: My Wife's Betrayal

Bone and Blood

The steel suspension cables of the bridge groaned, snapping one by one under the sheer, terrifying weight of the beast.

It was with a shoulder height of ten feet easily. Its chest and back were covered with thick and grey bone plates resembling organic medieval armour.

Its tail was terminated in a heavy, spiked club which smashed a parked sedan into scrap metal in one, lazy swing. It was a Tier-2 Armored Behemoth, a monster that would otherwise not be seen until months into the apocalypse. The time scale was not merely moving, but disintegrating.

Kaelen... said Maya, in the passenger seat, and her voice shook so violently that I could hardly hear her. She cowered in the seat of leather and looked through the windshield at the glowing red eyes of the monster. We can not fight that. Reverse. I beg you, just reverse.

There is no turning back in the apocalypse, Maya, I said, and my voice was as steady as ever. You either pass on their bodies, or you are the body.

I did not take my hunting knife this time. The sword would break on that bone armor. I instead reached into the backseat and picked up the heavy compound crossbow that I had bought at the black market. I loaded a solid steel-tipped bolt and pulled the 150-pound draw string back with a sharp click.

Close the doors, I said. "You must not turn away. You must learn what the new world is like.

I threw my door wide open and came out into the wailing, blue-tinted snow.

The minus thirty-degree wind was sweeping my face, but with my Minor Cold Immunity, it was no more than a cool breeze. My blood was beating hot and quick.

The Behemoth observed me getting out of the car. It gave a roar that was deafening, heavy on the bass, and which vibrated in my teeth, shaking the snow off the suspension wires of the bridge. It dropped its huge, armored head and ran.

Each step it took shook the ground. It was a living tank of flesh and bone, which bridged the fifty-yard gap in a few seconds.

I didn't flinch. I drew the crossbow and laid the stock against my shoulder. I didn't aim for its chest. I did not shoot towards its head.

Wait, I said to myself, and I was in perfect control of my breathing. Wait till the strike.

At ten yards, the Behemoth swung its huge body sideways, whipping its spiked tail full at my torso. The blow of the strike was so rapid that it cut a man in half.

But I possessed Apex Speed.

The instant the tail was whipped at me, the world appeared to come to a crawl. I went down on my knees and bent backwards like in the Matrix when the spiked club flew very close over my nose. The force of the wind as it swung around and ripped the hood of my tactical jacket.

When the beast was propelled forward by its impulse, it revealed the one unarmed portion of its body: the spongy, throbbing under part of its neck.

I pulled the trigger.

The heavy steel bolt flew through the air with a sickening thwack and buried itself in the throat of the monster. Black blood was bursting like a geyser.

The Behemoth cried, a high-pitched, gargling noise. It fell, its huge claws ripping up the asphalt. But a Tier-2 monster did not succumb that easily. It floundered about in its dying agony, its huge armored shoulder banging into my chest before I could scramble out of its path.

The blow threw me back. I hit the steel railing of the bridge with a crash, and the air came out of my lungs. I felt my ribs screaming in protest, a sharp pain that went through my left side.

The monster took two further strides in my direction, its red eyes dimming, then its legs failed. It struck the frozen road, and with a heavy crash, came to a stop a few feet from my feet.

I cleared my throat and spat out a gob of blood on the snow. I struggled to get on my feet, holding on to the railing.

[Target Destroyed: Tier-2 Armored Behemoth.

[High-Level Genetic Material Detected.

[Would you like to Splice? YES / NO]

"Yes," I rasped.

The huge, dead body began to dissipate into a storm of dark grey ash and crashed into my chest.

This time, the pain was different. It was not fire in my veins, but it was pressure on my bones. I got down on my hands and knees, grinding my teeth as I sensed my skeleton swelling. My ribs, which had just been broken by the blow, immediately sprang back into place, welded together with a stiff, unnatural weight. My forearms and chest skin became hard, and it took on a faint, grey, metallic luster before returning to normal skin color.

[Splice Complete.]

[New Traits Learned: Bone-Plated Skin (Passive) | Titan Strength (Active)]

I got on my feet, rolling my shoulders. I was walking like a mountain. I walked down to the wrecked sedan, which the monster had wrecked earlier. I took the bumper of the steel that was crushed in one hand and pulled. And with a screech of tearing metal, I tore the bumper right off the car without breaking a sweat.

I threw it on the bridge. Titan Strength. This was what I needed.

I went back to the SUV. Maya was looking at me through the glass, her eyes open, awe-stricken, and in sheer terror. She opened the door.

I told you, I said to myself, as I got back into the driver's seat. Nothing will come in our way.

As I was taking possession of my throne of blood on the bridge, Elena was having her own personal hell in the slums that were five miles away.

The apartment was as black as black. As the grid went dead, the hissing of the radiators ceased instantly. The remaining heat was gone in minutes as the unnatural, less than thirty-degree air leaked through the cheap, poorly insulated windows.

Elena was sitting on the floor of the living room, wrapped in three blankets, her teeth chattering so violently that she bit her own tongue.

"Marcus," she whined, her breath pluming in the dark air. "Do something! Light a fire! I'm freezing!"

Marcus was cuddling in the corner with my old winter coat. He looked pathetic. "Light a fire with what, Elena? The furniture? We shall choke on the smoke. Call Kaelen again! The heater is always fixed by him!

His phone is dead! she screamed, and immediately regretted it as the cold air scalded her throat. "He abandoned us! He got all the money!

Then, there was a rhythmic knocking in the hallway.

Elena scrambled up. She fell to the front door and peeped through the peephole. It was Mr. Henderson, on the other side of the hall, an old fellow who was always ready against winter storms. He was carrying a portable, battery-operated kerosene heater and surveying the neighbors.

A malevolent, frantic glimmer came into the eyes of Elena. She did not even see an old man trying to help. She saw a heater. She saw survival.

She looked to Marcus, her voice lowering to a mean, cold, calculating whisper. Take the baseball bat out of the closet. Stand behind the door.

"What? Are you crazy?" Marcus hissed.

Do it! she sneered, her actual, poisonous nature quite coming into play. And, when he comes in, strike him.--Hit him, when he comes in.

She pulled her hair, forced the tears into her eyes, and opened the door, preparing to play the helpless victim one more time.

In the industrial district, the heavy SUV came charging through the snow-choked streets and eventually reached the secret entrance of Shelter 04. It was as much an old warehouse outside as I wanted.

But when my headlights shot across the huge, reinforced steel garage doors of my bunker, I slapped on the brakes.

We weren't alone.

In front of my bunker doors were three men, heavily armed. They had on heavy winter clothing, were carrying pump-action shotguns, and crowbars. A large pickup truck was parked next to them. They had already seen the huge food deliveries earlier in the day and had decided to stake out the location and wait to hijack the supplies of whoever owned it.

One of the thugs lifted a hand, protecting his eyes against my headlights. He pointed his shotgun at my windshield, and he was waving to me to get out of the car.

I unbuckled my seatbelt. A chilling smile crept slowly over my face.

The apocalypse was delivering test subjects right to my front door.