Moebius 2157 | ONC2019 Short List [Complete]

0 | Ghost

On the eve of 15th March 2157, the world was about to end.

Well, the world itself would probably be fine, once it had finally rid itself of the accursed parasites that had termed themselves humans. But these parasites were pesky, and they wouldn't have prevailed so long if not for a penchant for ingenuity and improvisation. And on the brink of their own destruction, humanity had one last ace up its sleeve.

Her name was Alyssa Caine.

Special Agent Alyssa Caine had always hoped to serve a greater cause in her life. Growing up as a child on the surface, her dreams had been as big as the sky above her head had been blue and boundless. Now, there wasn't much left of either of that.

Just like her living conditions, the causes she had fought for had deteriorated drastically over the years. First, protecting the innocent. Soon, merely mitigating casualties. Living to fight another day. Ultimately, just getting out of hell alive at all. Enduring the exodus, to one day help reclaim the surface. She had given everything to do her job and serve her increasingly defunct, messed-up country, even when the only thing left of it became a collection of decrepit underground bunkers and tunnels, inhabited by the last surviving humans, ruled by the last surviving rich bastards.

Now she was twenty-nine and had already seen enough death and destruction to last three lifetimes. And just like the earth herself, the last of her dreams had been razed to the ground.

Her tiny, windowless, one-room apartment still held traces of that world gone by. Mementos of the early days of her service, and photographs with colleagues who were long since dead. Pictures of places she had visited, or had hoped to visit one day, and which had been consumed by the fires of the war by now. Her most treasured possession was a huge poster that she had put up above her cot, depicting a panoramic view of a lake and a snow-covered mountain range at sunset. She liked to pretend that it was a window, and that place actually lay just beyond it.

As she tore her gaze away from her imaginary view, she heaved a sigh that made her awfully aware of the increasingly stale taste the air left on her tongue these days. The eve of humanity's demise seemed like an inopportune moment to dwell on her own long lost dreams, and so she focused on the task at hand and donned her combat suit. The one without the authoritarian insignia. The uniformly black one, for covert operations. Tonight, she wouldn't be serving her country. She would be serving humanity.

She laced up her boots, then bent down to reach underneath her cot. There, hidden away behind a loose metal panel, sat the box. Twelve months ago she had put it there, hoping to never have to see it again. As she opened it a vague sense of eagerness took hold of her that seemed highly inappropriate in the way it tinted her dread.

The gun still looked the same. Like on the day she had last used it, a year ago, back when she had been a member of Security. In hindsight, the term seemed dreadfully ironic to her. Nothing of what they had done had made the bunker city particularly secure.

She had forgotten what the gun looked like. The memory of the sleek, black weapon paled against the one image that had burnt itself into her mind with more intensity than the fires that raged across the surface of the earth, hundreds of meters above the bunkers. The face - that was what still haunted her.

Wide, blood-shot eyes, underlined by dark purple shadows, cheeks hollow from weeks at the brink of starvation, streaks of blood and dirt across pallid skin. The worst was his expression – not one of shock or fear. Just surprise. The looter hadn't understood what was about to happen, not even as she had pulled the trigger and the bullet pierced through his forehead.

She felt her stomach churn at the memory, and a taste of bile mingled with the musty staleness of the air. She forced it all down, grabbed the gun and began the safety check of the mechanism. She calmed her nerves by telling herself that tonight, she wouldn't be killing dozens of innocents to protect one of the rich and powerful. If all went well, she would be doing the exact opposite.

Once she was done, Alyssa rose to her feet and rolled back her shoulders.

Only one person would die tonight. And with a little bit of luck, it wouldn't be her.

A.N.
Welcome to my first attempt at writing a novella!
My personal goal with this project was simply to kickstart my imagination with something new, explore new characters, write some more action scenes, and on top of it all try to add a time travel twist that will leave your brain tied in a knot! :D I hope you'll enjoy, and I'd appreciate your feedback! And if you're participating too, feel free to leave a comment with a link, I'd love to check out your work!

Word Count: 780