Dead-eyes

A snap, crack, and a thud is all I hear before I feel an enormous figure slam me into a nearby tree. I brace as I feel my breath leave my body. My back screams in pain as the tree’s bark scrapes my skin. I gasp for air while my arms wither away after several strikes from every direction. Frantically, I kick my left leg forward, and the punches stop. I quickly snatch a long, sharp branch from the forest floor and thrust the back end into the ground. I tightly grasp it as the figure lunges towards me. I hear a low gurgle as the sound of impaled flesh squishes in my ear. I drop the branch. I fall to the ground as my heart pounds faster and faster. Everything goes dark.

I open my eyes to squint at the morning sun piercing through the forest to the east. I shiver. My clothes are wet, and the ground is dewy. To be honest, I almost wish I wasn’t waking up at all; every part of my body aches in pain as I stand up. I glance at the body that attacked me. I say “body” because it was nothing more than an A.I.’s doll that had passed its expiry date. I attempt to ignore the smell. Angrily, I kick it and curse, “Damn dead-eye.” BANG! I instantaneously react and hunker down in the dirt. I remain still. BANG BANG! Gunshots continue to pop: BANG! BANG!

Seconds later, I hear quick thuds pass behind, and a wind gush by in the direction of the gunshot. I barely see it pass by but, I recognize this is definitely a dead-eye’s run: unbelievably fast and quiet. Only to be noticed just before getting slammed into a tree. What happened to me is not all that uncommon, unfortunately. BANG!

After sitting silently for about five minutes, I peek my head up and scan the surrounding area. “All clear,” I say to myself as I continue walking to my Camp. Not five minutes later, I hear a whiz and a BANG as I feel a sharp pain in my arm. I crouch to the ground and scream in pain. An old man yells, “Hey! You’re not one of those freaks, are ya?” A feeling of relief rushes over me as I exclaim, “I’m lucky you’re a bad shot!” The old man laughs as I begin to stand up. “You scraped my arm, asshole!” I say as I start walking over to him. He throws me a roll of gauze from his backpack, and I wrap it around my wound.

“Looks like you’ve taken a beating, kid,” says the old man.

“Damn dead-eye caught me by surprise.” I respond

“You’re telling me! I just killed three of them about 15 minutes ago.” he says

I laugh to myself as he says that, knowing that it took him six shots.

This is how things are now; after a war with A.I. that started in 2066. One the A.I. was winning until a sudden pulse from the sun destroyed them and all electronics. The only remnants of A.I.’s existence are the dead-eyes: humans who were killed and had an A.I. inserted into their brain during the war. They were left to wander aimlessly in search of food and hell-bent on destroying all living things. By killing the host, the body is left with corpse-like eyes; hence, the name Dead-eyes. Humanity attempted to control A.I. by creating a link between them. However, in this pursuit, they neglected the fact that the same link humanity used to control A.I. could be manipulated by A.I. to be used in reverse. Unfortunately, A.I. wins out, in most cases, since they can continuously add more processing power. In order to do so, however, it must kill and then revive its host while rewiring their brain to take full control of someone. Human emotions and survival instincts are pesky things to control.

In the year 2070, the sun sent a strange pulse that fried the dead-eye’s brain chips. This left dead-eyes with a brain that was now rewired to solely kill and eat. As a result, dead-eyes won’t defend themselves when in combat. They are not capable of any higher-level reasoning aside from repeating old habits from when they were alive. I remember my father saying to me: “Don’t be fooled into thinking they’re human or it will be your death.” I had just witnessed a dead-eye attempt to open a door of which I was on the other side. Dad was also the first to tell me they have the ability to get an adrenaline rush at will.

Currently, in the year 2071, I am now trying to find my father. During the war, he was captured by the A.I. and taken to their base. He managed to tip me off as to his general location: Florida. It’s strange to me - this choice of location. A.I. usually singles out cities or power plants as bases of operations - not a forest.

Along my way, in search of my father, I’ve met only a handful of people. Most have died except for this trigger-happy old man. He’s been using my Camp for the past couple of months. He just shot me, but I don’t care; all I want to do is sleep. I walk with him a short distance until we come to Camp. The fire is still going, most likely, because of the old man. I walk over to my tent as my eyelids feel heavy and weighted. I pass out before my head hits the pillow.

I woke up feeling drowsy yet well-rested.

“You’re awake; it’s been a couple days,” the old man says as I exit the tent. I look up past the trees to see the midday sun. GROWL; my stomach clenches with hunger. “Hungry?” the old man asks, and I nod. He hands me a warm can of ravioli he had heated up over the fire. I scarf it down in seconds as the old man gives me a bucket of water that I guzzle down.

The old man stares at me worriedly, “You ok?”

“Yes,” I respond, “just a little banged up.”

As I examine the bruises on my arms, I unwrap the gauze, clean the scrape with water, and rewrap it. BANG! I look at the old man as he looks to me. We both turn our heads towards the gunshot.

“We got company,” the old man explains as I walk over to the axe at our chopping block.

“Let’s check it out,” I say, ready to get my ass kicked again. We both stand up and, after throwing on another log to keep the fire burning, we head in the direction of the gunshot.

The old man loads his .308 semi-automatic hunting rifle. He holds it at the ready, safety off, and leads the way. It takes us about an hour to walk to where we heard the shots. I look at a nearby tree splattered with blood. BANG! We hear another shot go off; this time, much closer. BANG!

“Look out!” I look at the old man pointing his gun at me. BANG! The Next thing I know, my face is on the ground, and something heavy is on top of me. “Did he get ya, kid?” says the old man.

“Man, am I grateful for your trigger-happy ass,” I say, as we both laugh. “We need to get out of here; let’s head back to Camp,” I said as I pushed the dead-eye off me. As soon as I finish my sentence, we see a handful of dead-eyes chasing a wounded deer. We duck down and wait for them to pass. Once we can no longer see them, we head back to Camp.

On the way, we come across a large concrete structure hidden in the forest. Something about it called to me. I prodded the old man, “You want to go inside?”

“Hell no,” he says. “I ain’t dying in there.”

A part of me agreed with him, but another part told me to go and investigate. Creeeeak! The sound of a metal door opening and closing emanates from the direction of the structure. “Damn it,” says the old man, “Now you’ve gone and piqued my interest.” I smile as we both head towards the structure.

As we get closer, we notice its dome shape with no windows. It also seems pretty new; the ground around it hasn’t fully recovered from its construction. While the rest of the forest seems old with heavy underbrush, this section looks relatively young. As we near the door, we notice a trail of blood on the ground.

We open the door as stealthily as possible and enter. Once through, all we see is a long, dark hallway illuminated by the tiny cracks of light coming through the door we’d just entered. I walk a bit down the hallway. I hear metal footsteps. I look up to see two red, glowing eyes. BANG! Before I can process anything, the old man shot the figure - sparks and metal explode off from its shoulder. I run towards it, axe up high, as the old man opens the door. I see a golden, heart-shaped locket fall from the metal figure’s neck. A childish voice screams, “Daddy!” The locket hits the floor and opens up to a photograph. I freeze for a second.

“Dad?!”