Chapter 32 – Last Days.

Mk23 -IRJ Droplet – Class 7 – Carpe Victoria (Wrecked)

Sector - Unknown

Planet - Unknown

11th July 2342 (BSST)

Day 365

I suppose it is fitting that it comes to an end today. On the anniversary of our arrival, exactly one BSST year from when this horrific planet greeted us with loving arms, arms covered in spikes but arms nonetheless.

As I write this we last remaining five are discussing our future. But how did we get here from all those days ago?

We landed here on this planet exactly 365 days ago, the 21st of July 2339 BSST, it was a Monday. An overcast day that would be a perfectly fitting occasion for the events that would follow though I could only say that with the benefit of hindsight. The first few days were rough, no food no companions nothing else.

Then we found each other, these work colleagues and family members, some of whom we counted as friends. Perhaps not our best friends but friends assuredly.

A battle for survival ensued as we struggled in this inhospitable place losing members here and there. After just a month we’d lost almost half of us but a camp was set up.

Then it was just time until things got worse, as they always seem to do. Not long ago we noticed something changing. As the heat became overwhelming the animals started changing, at first we thought it natural. A new cycle in their lives. Then they started changing physically. What was going on we wondered to ourselves but dismissed it as well. If we weren’t changing as well then everything was ok. But we were changing. We were easier to anger, easier to provoke. We started arguing and beating each other up over things – not physically of course, we hadn’t resorted to that, but it would come.

Then we started to see things, things in the tree line, things we couldn’t, wouldn’t share with each other. Though we shared the gist of it each of us kept the stranger details to ourselves.

Then 23 days ago a group of us split off after frustrations and paranoia got the best of us and they left.

When they returned they brought monsters of unimaginable horror with them and we just sat there and let them be butchered and slaughtered by our gates. From baby to adult our compassion knows no guilt. Karen, one of those that stayed with us had to go help and in short order she was ripped apart in the frenzy that followed.

A horror that is too bad to even bear thinking about and I was witness. Something that would leave scars upon my mind for years to come – if I survived that long.

Shortly after, whilst the blood was still seeping to the ground the infernal creatures not yet sated returned for more. Their bloodlust and hunger knows no bounds. They crowded the gates and walls in a desperate scramble to get in.

And get in they did. Breaking through the wooden walls after a couple of days throwing themselves at it. From up in the treehouse we looked down in despair as the truth was finally revealed. These monsters we so despised and feared, these creatures of nightmares for sure were creatures we recognised. Though they didn’t walk like us, though they didn’t talk like us, act like us or be like us we knew them still. They wore the remnants of things we knew like clothing, just as their clothing still was worn.

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As they prowled down beneath us, searching for that final scrap of flesh to feat upon we looked down as if in heaven and recognise who they were.

They were colleagues, work colleagues. They were family members and friends. They were the others. The ones we’d lost along the way. They were the ones who’d disappeared without a trace. Their final scream echoing around, a final memory of the people they once were. Now, though they wore a familiar face, they were not who we knew. Nor were they ghosts or spectres, a living memory or figments of our imagination. Joint hallucinations I think not!

So as they prowled beneath, what now? Well that was what we were discussing, in the last few days the numbers of humanoids had reduced, they disappeared off into the forests to hunt for other prey. But the ones beneath were still ravenous, and fast. Ready to consume anything and everything.

So what on earth were we to do?

James, Kurt and Jenny both wanted to leave and head away from here, perhaps toward the mountains or the beaches. They weren’t sure but they felt staying here would be a mistake. Whilst Tom and I felt that we could stay here and wait until they left.

…

Well we’ve decided. James, Kurt and Jenny both laid down an ultimatum, they were going and we were welcome to come along. I had acceded to their wishes as I knew without James we’d stand no chance. Tom was more reluctant and had decided to wait in the treehouse until he could tell it was clear and then follow. So we, were all going to make a break for it. Tomorrow would be the day.

So I guess this is it for now, if all goes well then there’ll be another entry. If not then I guess you know by now how it all ended.

- George Willis, over and out.

I turn the page and sigh when there’s only the empty canvas. Though I knew realistically it was unlikely they made it I was hoping they had returned at a later date.

No, nothing so nice, the page was blank and all that was left to do was track down their last final moments. I felt a tear trickle down the side of my face. Whilst reading the diary I had felt connected to her, connected to another human for the first time in over a year. That her tragic fate was so hard to manage was a testament to the effect her writings had had on me. The length and personal nature that I had read had sunk in on me.

Reigning in the stray emotions I descended from the trees and started a search.

The first one of the five I had found was obviously Tom, the man in the treehouse.

By the ladder to the other one the man on the floor was presumably George. The others having banded together and seemed more focused would have carried on running.

Since the diary was only a few metres away from the ladder in the campsite I was assuming he had discarded it readying himself to climb up the ladder to escape.

It took a few minutes to find the others. They had all made it up the cliff face and along the path that extended out of the camp being cut down along the way. Jenny was the next casualty, being the only remaining girl she was fairly easy to recognise. Kurt and James followed shortly, the former soldier only outpacing the tired architect by a few hundred metres before he was like wise cut down.

Searching the bodies proved fruitless except in James’s case. Unfortunately it wasn’t something I could use. The only thing he had on him was a photo, the paper stained with blood so badly I couldn’t make out anything of the actual image and a data pad. Common equipment of soldiers - we went nowhere without one.

This data pad had been set to record visual and audio inputs and would overwrite itself every time the process was refreshed by the user, i.e. every day – barring specified moments. A catalogue of his death I was sure.