SurvivorZ: Grave Harbor

57

ED

The army started moving ahead with their invasion plans. Everything else moved with it.

Ed and Rupert abandoned their battered, debris-riddled sedan and ran through the smoldering rubble of the gatehouse to the vestiges of their blockade. The parked bus and other vehicles still closed off the north end of the bridge, but the armed resistance that went with it had lost all cohesion in the face of the military's devastating first strike.

Emerson waved for everyone's attention. "Get to the docks," he shouted. "We need to evacuate."

Heeding his command, the sentries fled for the wharf, many of them dropping their weapons behind as they went. Ed ran after them, with Rupert struggling to keep up while favoring an injured leg.

Ed slowed to let the older man catch up. His former next-door neighbor had been his first real friend since moving to Everett four years ago. They used to sit out on his porch at nights, drinking and talking about all kinds of existential shit – most of which, frankly, was way over his head.

He didn't have his friend's big brain, but when the dead came knocking, there was one thing he did know for certain. If anyone could come up with a way to survive this cluster fuck, it was Rupert Emerson. That seemed to be the case, at least for a short while. As his coroner friend was wont to say, the only thing that lasted forever was death.

"Don't wait for me," Emerson said. "Get to the boats. I have to shut down the plant."

"Fuck the plant," Ed barked. "Let the army have it if they want it so badly. We still need you."

"My place is here. The Castle will provide everything our people need, short of renewable power. The one thing it doesn't require is another mouth to feed."

"If you're staying, I'm staying."

Rupert gave him a fatherly smile. "We've already lost one home," he said. "Without your protection, Castle will soon follow. Don't let me down, Ed. Our people need you now more than they need me."

Ed's scowl formed deep crevasses in his leathery skin. "Goddamn it. Don't make me knock your lights out and throw you on that boat."

"Allow me this one last indulgence, old friend. If this is the end, I'd like to be here when the curtains close."

A loud blast resounded from the bridge. Both men peered over their shoulders in time to witness a thick curl of smoke rising from the parked bus. A few more shots from those tanks and there wouldn't be enough left of their defenses to keep out a stray dog.

Ed turned back in time to spot a second group of military vehicles parked at the far end of Robin Street. Between the busted gate hanging off its post and the billowing smoke from the burning oil tank up north, he guessed this invasion force must have been responsible for leading the attack while the colonel kept them occupied on the bridge.

"Rupert," he said, directing his companion's attention their way.

"I see them," Emerson declared. "We don't have much time. This is where we part ways. Get our people to the boats. I'll prepare our surprise for our soldier friends."

Ed stared blankly, trying to think of anything to say that might change his friend's mind. Frustrated, he stiffly held out his hand instead.

"It was good knowing you," he said.

Emerson smiled and shook his hand. "The honor was all mine. Now go, before it's too late."

Ed grunted, threw a final look at the tanks rolling across the bridge, and took off for the docks. He felt Rupert's eyes on him, watching him leave. When he eventually looked back, his friend was gone. All that remained was the army moving in like a magma flow.