Viruspring

“There weren’t always dragons in the Valley.” Uncle grumbled, rifting through the fire with the heavy iron poker, he made a satisfied grunt and settled back into the cedar rocking chair of our small cabin.

“Now there are millions, billions perhaps, but once mankind hunted them by the score. Thousands dead each year, we sold their hides to the merchants and traders above the Rift, harvested their flesh, their ivory tusks were purchased by the heap, their bones melted down to make weapons and armor, stronger even than the toughest forged steel. Humanity used their skeletal structures to design gliders, conquering the skies and flying beyond the Valley, beyond the great Rift and into the plains and mountains.

“We spread like a disease, we built metal ships and sailed across the violet seas, colonizing the farthest reaches of the planet. Our cities grew, the castles and palaces of yore were torn down and replaced by the steel buildings of our age. Technology surpassed even what the magics of eons past could have accomplished.” Uncle pulled his pipe and a match from a raggedy cloak pocket and took a puff, smoke swam in the dull firelight. I can still remember the smell of skunk and spice.

“Then, came the Viruspring. As the winter winds slowed to gentle spring breezes, as the ice melted and the rivers flowed deep and the currents ran strong, as the sun reappeared from beyond its prison of thick gray cumulus did the dragons that we had hunted to near extinction gain sentience. Or some semblance of the like.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, perched cross legged on the dirt ground, the earth was cool compared to the blistering heat of the hearth.

“Their intelligence is not like mankind’s, it’s…different. Quit interrupting.”

“Yes uncle.” It was only one question. The old fool took another puff on his pipe and continued.

“Even the most intelligent evolutionary biologists were unable to discover the origin of the contagion that spread like wildfire amongst the lands below sea level, among the lava flows that breach from the planet's core and burst into the Rifts and Valleys where the dragons dwelled. This pathogen achieved in a matter of months what took our race thousands of evolutionary years to accomplish. As sentience came to the beasts they created civilizations in secret, their numbers grew, breeding and spreading their wings in the deepest lava tubes and caverns that twist and wind like the roots of their sentience deep beneath our feet.

“The behemoths soon came to realize that we humans were nothing without our weapons and technology, small men and women hidden behind the shield of science. They waited long years, amassing an army with but one goal, to destroy the human race and return the planet to its rightful heirs.

“The dragons formed allegiances with the serpentine wyrms of the sand seas of the south, with the wingless drakes of the east, with the many headed hydras of the north, with the tunneling basilisks and the monstrous leviathans of the oceans.

“It was only when their army numbered more than anything humankind had ever assembled did they fight back. First killing the big game hunters so bold as to stalk them in the deep places they dwelled. Then the beasts killed everyone on the edges of the Rifts and Valleys, all the cliffside cities decimated in days. Their slaughter of mankind spread slow, but it proved more than quick enough.

“For years humanity fought the beasts, the wyverns bathed us in flame from above as we lanced them with ground artillery, the drakes crushed our tanks with mighty jaws and on powerful legs outran even the fastest of electro-hoverbike cavalries. Basilisks breached the ground of our spaceports and tore apart airships as our brethren in arms bombed the dunes from which the monsturous serpents dwelt. Our fleets of warships were sunk by the score, their hulls ripped to shreds by the deep sea dwelling leviathans, thousands of nuclear torpedoes were launched into the depths to no avail.

“Dragon legions decimated entire cities, massacring humans by the millions, it was genocide by fire. Brought on by our own actions, had we simply left the beasts to their peace in the deep none of this would have occurred. But such is the nature of humanity.” Uncle shook his head almost imperceptibly and sighed before continuing his tale.

“The superpowers of the world forged alliances, never before had the human race come together in such a union. The world’s nation-states combined their armies to end the scourge of the behemoths.

“They failed.”

Uncle took another puff on his pipe, a regretful scowl overtaking his scarred face. Crickets chirped outside, indigo dusk light sneaking through cracked mortar and our shabby home’s lonely window.

My bearded old guardian grunted and continued, “Humanity’s numbers shrank, our race which had spread its fingers across the planet dwindled to a few hundred thousand, millions of men, women and children butchered by the reptilian armies. We had thrown everything at them, nuclear warheads, laser lances, genetically altered-cybernetic posthumans, armies of androids outfitted with flesh searing bioweapons, we even resorted to the barbarism of biological warfare. Nothing ended their onslaught.

“It was only when the behemoths were preparing for a final battle, to complete their genocide of mankind did we vie for peace. In a last ditch effort to save the human race the few remaining world leaders came together again, they were met only with words of our demise.

“The leader of the beasts, a mighty scaled Wyrm a thousand feet long with jaws large enough to crush a bus in one bite, rebutted our plea in a guttural tongue, ‘There will be no peace with men. We will not hesitate until we have exterminated humanity’s murderous ilk and our kind is free to roam the lands once more. Until we are free of our Valley prison, free of the underground hell for so long my people have hidden. We will fight until one of us is extinguished. Your race has proved there can only be one sentient species here, and it is not humanity. We shall have our vengeance.’

“The beast opened its great maw and released fire upon the emissaries until they were nothing more than liquified viscera, metal warped until it flowed like the magma by which the monster’s people had lived for so long.

“It was then that the last throes of humanity went into hiding, only coming together in nomadic clans and tribes. Our cities in ruin, our economies and governments disbanded, our entire way of living was upheaved, the remains of us nothing more than grains of sand slipping through the dragon’s talons. The beasts had done to us what we had so casually and foolishly attempted to do to them.

“I fear there is only one remaining hope for our race.”

“What’s that?” I asked, genuinely curious.

“The bravest few of our newly spacefaring race abandoned us, turned to the stars and launched into the heavens, generation ships filled with billions of lines of DNA and RNA. I hope one day they may find a peace I fear we never will.

“I saw with my own eyes one of the ships torn near in half as it hurdled out of the atmosphere, blown to shreds not by a faulty fuel line or engine misfire which had for so long plagued the rise of spaceflight, but by the dragons they tried to flee. The behemoths don’t want us to leave the planet, they want only our extermination, to spread the disease of humanity across the stars is our last hope, and their greatest fear.

“I hope some few of the hulking starships made it clear of the atmosphere, beyond our orbit and into the cosmos. Though I fear most if not all suffered the same fate as the shuttle I witnessed so brutally ripped to shreds.” Uncle paused for a long time then, staring deep into the simmering fireplace, the crackle and pop of the hearth the only sound in the cold evening air.

“So what comes next?” I asked, hoping he would continue his tale, giving some glimmer of hope for humanity, some hope for freedom.

“What comes next?” The old man scoffed, his thick mustaches flapping. “You’re looking at it boy, this is it. Humanity runs and hides. We roam the plains like our cave dwelling ancestors, the lost children of a once great race. The tides of devolution have turned on us. Our age is over, the age of the beast is here.”

“There has to be some chance for freedom, some hope for the human race.” I didn’t ask, the seeds of an idea already planted in the garden of my young mind.

“You got any ideas?”

“An uprising, a rebellion. Someone has to crawl from the ashes of our people to unify us, a savior from our oppressors, to rotate the wheels of revolution. Nothing will happen if someone doesn’t force the change. To bring our nomadic tribes into an alliance, it’s our only shot as far as I can see. We need to fight the beasts.”

“We’ve tried, my boy, the gods know we’ve tried.”

“Then we should try something else, some new technique, some new weapon, we need a leader.”

“You speak of a savior.” Uncle laughed, a gentle but pained thing. “Humankind has tried every known weapon we had, we threw all of our science and technology at the behemoths, and all it took were their claws, jaws and flames to defeat us. No my boy, the age of men is at its end, we may as well enjoy our time left before the beasts drag us to hell with the rest of our fallen race.”

“There has to be another way.” I said, not budging, uncle laughed again, full of melancholy and mirth.

“Well if you think of something, let me know. Maybe one day you’ll be the mythical leader we need. Your parents would have been proud of your resilience.”

A sad smile grew on my smooth cheeks.

“Come along now, it’s time for bed.” Uncle rose on shaking legs and started hobbling to the washroom at the back of the cabin.

“In a minute.” I sat on the cool ground thinking for a long while, intent on the flames. I could be the leader humanity needs, I could bring together our clans, combine our strengths and find some way of defeating the dragons. If advanced technology failed us, then maybe superior firepower isn’t the answer, maybe our salvation is in our history. Our ancestors hunted the monsters with spears and arrows, simple tools, not the weapons of war we failed to defeat the beasts with. Maybe there was something to be learned from our history, our ancestors.

“You coming? It’s getting late.” The old man called from the other room.

“Yes Uncle.” I said, having decided then what I would do. I wouldn’t sit back and accept our extermination at the hands of these beasts the way my uncle had, the way the rest of humanity had. I would fight back. I would begin the rebellion, the revolution, I would free us from our genocidal overlords.

But I’d start the change tomorrow, Uncle was right after all, it was getting late. I rose from the dirt floor and felt a vibration, either deep within the ground or very far off. Uncle came from the washroom wide eyed, mouth ajar.

“Uncle…” He silenced me with a harsh wave of his hand, there was another rumble, louder this time.

“They found us. Grab your bag.” When I hesitated he yelled, “Move!”

I scrambled to the small closet where we kept our go-bags. Still not comprehending, fear and adrenaline the only things pushing me forward. An explosion erupted so close to our cabin it made the walls shake free loose mortar and dust, through the ringing in my ears I heard the screams then, women, men, children, burning, dying. This isn’t possible, I thought, covering my ears to block out the noise, all the while knowing that this had been bound to happen eventually. The last six months of peace in our little cabin had given me time to heal, time for reflection, a fool’s time in a cruel world. I’m going to die like my parents.

A harsh orange glow cast into the cabin through our small window, flickering and churning, the air smelt of smoke and burning flesh, there came more explosions, so close I could feel the small hairs on my arms singing even from within our home.

Uncle emerged from the back room with our traveling cloaks, heavy canvas lined with sheets of kevlar.

“Run!” I saw Uncle mouth the word more than heard him over the blasts, the ground shook beneath our feet as I threw open the cabin door.

We emerged into a hellscape. Corpses lay charred across the ground, little more than overcooked meat, our neighboring cabins immersed in flames, two of which had already collapsed. The air was thick with smoke and ozone, I fumbled for the gas mask in my bag, numb to all that was occurring. They found us, repeating over again in my mind.

I slapped the mask’s straps around my head and ran away from the scattering of burning homes. The sky erupted with white hot electric death, flames seemed to emerge from nowhere in the smoke black sky, scoring the ground and destroying everything in its path. I could vaguely make out the jaws of the behemoth laying down our fiery demise in the haze, its gaping maw spewing inferno.

Its flaming trail of death ended in an explosion at our cabin. I saw Uncle tossed through the air immersed in flame and screaming when the shockwave hit me. I was thrown away from our cabin to the small forest that abutted what had been our home. I struck something in the air, spun, then slammed into the ground and my vision went black.