I walk alone.

It is nighttime, but the sky doesn’t look it. Clouds stretch off into the distance, giving the scene a troubling atmosphere. Giant buildings, ancient and half-collapsed, seem to scrape the bruised sky. Trash litters the streets. Nothing except the distant howl of a wolf greets my presence. All else is silent. There is no sun, there is no moon. Time has no meaning anymore.

They used to call this city Denver, before the Eruptions. It was a thriving place of trade and commerce, now reduced to little more than a ghost town.

All of Earth has been reduced to a ghost town.

The Eruptions. They were triggered in the Civilized Age, back when man left a gaping carbon footprint without a care. Almost all of mankind was wiped out in a severe series of epidemics, earthquakes, sun flares, even volcanic eruptions triggered by climate change. The rest remain here, but they are something else.

The Shrews were once noble men and women, strong in the face of destruction, no different from any other. Then the Eruptions changed them. They became living zombies, cannibals, vampires, cruel imitations of human beings. The first were taken in and studied. No cure was ever created. Some said it was less of an epidemic and more of a parasite.

Millions of people were dying all over the globe, but the Shrews… They were different. They were entirely resilient to radiation and fire. They had no ounce of empathy or pity. They are exact copies of human beings, but yet entirely different. Their cleverness and logic are on par with an Oxford professor’s, yet not a single drop of human emotion run through their veins.

Whatever strange mutation they were, they bred like wildfire and began taking over cities that radiation had rendered uninhabitable to the normal folk. Soon every last human being was dead and gone, either gone insane or killed by starvation.

That was all months ago. Humans are extinct. The Shrews have decided to leave the surface of this god-forsaken planet for the underground. Denver was the first city to be emptied.

I was lucky. Had I taken the route through the Rockies they surely would have found me by now. Denver is the only place I can be safe from them.

I am the last human being on Earth. And the Shrews want me dead.

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I seek cover in an office building as the drones do their city flyover. The Shrews may have abandoned Denver, but the spy drones sure haven’t. Spy drones are a new technology all around, though, so they’re usually pretty easy to fool. I pull my cloak over my head and crouch into a ball.

I hear the hum as a drone hovers past. The sheet of cam-foil I taped onto my cloak would fool the sensors. I am just a blur of light to them.

The buzzing fades into the distance. I peek out to make sure it’s clear, then throw off my cloak. The drones only do twelve-hour intervals, so I’m safe for a while.

I’m about to set up camp when I see the drone in the doorway.

The machinery buzzes like a nest of hornets. Lens in the camera, sending a live feed to the Shrews, focus and refocus. I do the only thing I can think of doing: pick up a chunk of concrete and huck it at the device.

It does the trick. The rock catches the little drone on top of its artificial brain. The sensors fizzle and spark as the heap falls to the floor with a loud CLANK.

My jubilation at the drone’s demise quickly fades. The victory means nothing. The feed has still gotten through.

They know I am in Denver.

An earsplitting roar echoes through the ghost town.

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They sent a dragon.

Giant, fire-breathing killing machines; crude imitations of what the old stories spoke of, created by man’s most prominent geneticists over forty years ago. The first specimens didn’t do much mostly, just sit in zoos and grow fat and stupid. Their minds were empty, like blank pieces of paper. They knew nothing more than when to eat and when to sleep.

They bred quickly, though, and soon dragons were everywhere. The term hardly fits them, though. They are half-bred, unintelligent, apathetic, less that animals. It is terribly sad what such noble creatures from the stories, held in the highest esteem, had amounted to in the real world.

The dragon sent to attack me was bred solely for war. Glistening metallic-Kevlar armor covers every inch of its crimson body. Metal spikes have been drilled into the creature’s tail, to insure that anyone who came within five feet of it are decapitated. Long talons jut out from the forepaws, and each golden tooth has been sharpened to a knife-point. A single Shrew rider, cloaked in grey and black, waves around a curved machete and an AK-47. A harness, also embedded in the dragon’s flesh, attaches to a bar wrapped through the dragon’s teeth.

This is what we have been reduced to.

Savages.

The dragon roars in pain and rage. The rider tugs on the reins, and his steed leaps off the building and glides down to the streets. Its impact shatters the pavement.

The dragon roars again and lets loose a jet of fire. I jump back to avoid the lick of flame.

Raindrops begin to fall. Rain, deep inside the abandoned city.

“Jack Miley!” the rider shouts. “For your murderous and hate-filled crimes against our race, the Superiors, the great king Savasaar has sent me, Cien Rider, to polish your existence from this new Earth. Will you accept your fate with submittance?”

I throw out my hands. They shake noticeably, but I manage to keep my fear under control. “You’ll have to fight me.”

The Shrew laughs. The sound booms through the silent city. “Very well!” He points his AK-45 and I dive to the side.

The bullets ricochet off the pavement, sending pieces of debris flying through the air. One lodges on my left cheek, sending a small droplet of blood down my face, but I can barely feel the pain.

I pull my .45 Colt Defender from my pocket and fire blindly at the rider. They clang against the dragon’s armor, and the creature roars in fury. Cien pulls its reins, and a paw flies up at me. The talon would decapitate me within seconds.

I duck. The claw rips open my canvas backpack and clings to the material, but my flesh escapes unscathed. I shrug the pack off my shoulders and tear off into an alleyway, throwing away my pistol.

“Fool!” booms Cien behind me. “You cannot escape destiny.”

His dragon rises off the street and into the air. I see the bright red shape pass over me, and I turn in the other direction. My only hope is to avoid Cien and his dragon.

The rain is picking up now. Droplets splatter the sidewalks.

I sprint across the street and through an apartment building. An ancient lobby, covered in dust and debris, echoes my pattering footsteps. The pounding of my heart booms in my ears.

I hear the great thunder of a wingbeat, and I know my ruse was discovered. I run through the back entrance, scramble over a six foot wall, and continue along another street. I see the town square at least a mile in front of me. If I get there, I can take a right and get into the forest. The trees would give me enough cover to get far away from Denver.

The dragon comes swooping over a rooftop and lands once more on the street. Cien points his AK-47. I duck and charge at them head on. The woods are on the other side.

Cien laughs. “Looks like my prey is coming to me!”
 
I run.

My hands go up to cover my face.

Cien fires.

I dodge and spin, almost losing my footing on the slick pavement. As the dragon rapidly comes up in front of me, I hit the ground. The dragon roars and spews fire. It singes my head, and the smell of burning hair fills the air.

I jump back up onto my feet and stop at the tail. Cien roars at his dragon to turn around, and the dragon roars back. The tail swipes left and right with incapacitating speed. I say a quick prayer and dive for open ground.

“Tail!” yells the Shrew. The dragon swipes at me. A metal spike catches me in the ribs, and I am thrown against a wall on the opposite side of the street.

I know it is fatal. The chest wound burns like a fire. I can’t move. Blood trickles out of my mouth, and a red stain blossoms on my shirt.

An old song lyric drifts through my broken brain. “Raindrops keep falling on my head…”

I shift slightly to the left, and a broken rib actually breaks through the skin. I howl. My heart thuds at a dangerous pace.

My ribs and collarbone are shattered. I am finished.

Cien leaps off his dragon and strides up towards me. I begin coughing up blood and shaking violently. The whole world goes blurry.

I hear Cien’s booming voice reverberating through my skull. “Well, well, well. An admirable attempt, Jack Miley.” He draws a wicked-looking machete from his scabbard and inspects the blade. “But in the end, we are the winners. We, the Superiors. And that is all that matters.” He puts his sword to my neck and flicks it upwards.

A sharp pain in the back of my head, then all ceases.

A dark abyss stretches out before me. Not a breath of life.

I am alone here.

Forevermore.

But no. There is something… Something around me. With metal bars. A cage?

On the other side… people. Everywhere. Not Shrews, but human beings. Normal, sane human beings. I want to weep with relief, but something is wrong. They gaze at me in fear, shock, like one might stare at a man-eating lion. At first all is silent. Then a young girl points and starts laughing. The others join in, and soon the whole crowd is laughing, laughing, laughing.

At me.

I failed.