In the Shadow of Extinction: A Kaiju Epic -- Part III: Humanity's Last Stand

By Kelly Warner

The end of the world began with sudden volcanic eruptions along the Ring of Fire, killing thousands and displacing millions. These natural disasters soon gave rise to the kaiju; hulking leviathans seemingly immune to modern weaponry. Mankind's final wars last only weeks. Governments are quickly disbanded, entire countries are left decimated, and our once great cities are now dangerous ruins ruled by giant predators.

In the Shadow of Extinction is a science fiction epic spanning 15 years as humanity shifts gears from fighting the kaiju apocalypse to merely surviving it.

The fate of the world will be decided in Part III: Humanity's Last Stand.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kelly Warner
• Release date: Jun 29, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463163726

Kelly Warner

Kelly Warner is the author of In the Shadow of Extinction: A Kaiju Epic, Rakasa, and other forthcoming works of dark genre fiction. Kelly is the editor at Scriptophobic, where she also co-hosts the Japanese horror film podcast One Missed Pod with writer Zack Long. Kelly imagines that she'd survive a kaiju attack because she'd be the first to recognize the signs that we're all doomed and that our giant reptilian overlords have come to reclaim the planet. She lives in Illinois. You can connect with her on Twitter at @OhHellKell

Book preview

PART III

HUMANITY’S LAST STAND

Ikarah art by S. Taylor

"Monsters are tragic beings.

They are born too tall, too strong, too heavy.

They are not evil by choice. That is their tragedy."

Ishiro Honda

HUNGER

Detroit

Joel had done the right thing, he felt certain of this.

Detroit’s newcomers were begrudgingly welcomed into the city’s society, given tasks that the others did not want, like sewer maintenance or scavenger hunts in nearby townships.

They were given housing, given food, given some manner of respect, but there was an undeniable division of class. There were those who had built the city into what it was today—and there were those who had just happened upon a good thing.

Despite this, things were pretty good for the first week, surprising even Joel.

But it didn’t last.

It wasn’t a failure to get along that caused things to spiral towards anarchy. It was a failure on Joel’s part—he’d lacked the foresight to anticipate just how much strain this would put on the city’s reserves.

Before the doors were opened, people were just getting by on the crops they were growing within the city walls. After the doors were unlocked, the food reserves took a big hit and never quite recovered.

People were beginning to go hungry and everyone knew the reason was Joel’s shortsighted compassion. Joel tried to restore order but he had to do so without his newfound ally Hugo.

Hugo was still out on his ‘hunt’ and his men were among the hungry, so they felt no reason to obey any command Joel issued for them.

There was talk of forcing the newcomers out of the city so that things would return to the way they used to be. Joel would not let that happen. They could remove him from power, but he’d be damned if he allowed his one good deed to be erased by the masses who’d rather have it easy instead of helping those in need.

Dr. Sharp had conveniently removed herself from Joel’s side when the food started to run out. She was no longer interested in helping him as an advisor. This was just as well, because it meant that she was locked away in her massive cannon for longer periods of time. Progress on repairs seemed to be going well.

Only one influential ‘friend’ remained for Joel to turn to: Creed. But going to him now and making a dirty deal made Joel feel like McFarland.

He hated it.

Joel found Creed in the streets of the black market, picking through a produce stall in search of fresh fruit.

As the man in charge of the black market, Creed long ago stashed large quantities of food for a crisis such as this, and he was now trading that food at outrageous costs. He could now be considered the richest man in America and he enjoyed flaunting it with daily shopping sprees through the black market.

It did not seem to bother Creed that starving children crowded the streets and were living off crumbs while he dined on five-star meals in solitude.

It was Joel’s task to ask Creed to not only share his wealth with the needy, but also help restore Detroit’s sense of stability before the city lost its mind.

No small order.

You asked me for help before, Creed said to Joel. He polished an apple on his shirt before taking a bite. A woman swooned over the apple. Creed smiled at her but did not offer to share. He looked to Joel. Do you remember? You hurt my bodyguard. He still has headaches. And your thug friend Hugo pointed a gun at me.

I regret that, Joel said.

But I did what was asked of me anyway, Creed said, taking another juicy bite. "I gave you the support you needed. We got rid of McFarland. What did you do next? You opened the doors and things went to shit not long after. Little secret: people miss McFarland now."

Regime changes don’t always go smoothly.

Understatement of the year, Dr. Tanner.

A man led a starving horse across their path. An old lady licked her lips, fantasies of horse burgers in a clearly visible thought bubble above her head.

It’s in your power to help again, Joel said. Your selfless contribution would feed the hungry just long enough so that we can restore the reserves and plant new crops.

"When have you ever known me to be selfless?"

Creed finished the apple. All that remained was the core and the seeds. He tossed it over his shoulder, letting it land in the dirt. Children descended on the apple core like vultures, fighting over who would get the last dirty bites of fruit.

You live here, too, Joel said. Do you want things to get worse than they already are?

Creed said, When things get worse, my business gets better.

Joel wanted to punch Creed’s teeth out. He resisted the impulse but shoved his fists into his pockets just in case.

Joel said, Hunger leads to desperation and with desperation you get unrest, violence, and chaos. You can make your profit now, but imagine trying to be the one man still selling stuff to the rioting masses.

You opened the gates, Doc, Creed said with a shrug. It’d be real easy if you’d take a big broom, sweep out that which you let in, and close it up like it used to be.

That’s not happening.

And yet you expect me to relent when you will not.

I can offer trade.

What do you have that I don’t? Think.

Joel put a hand on Creed, stopping him in the middle of the market thoroughfare. Creed didn’t like it. He straightened and looked behind him. A brute which Joel had not noticed before pushed his way out of the crowd and came striding forward with fists wrapped in copper wire.

Joel lowered his hand. Creed nodded to his big buddy and the bodyguard relaxed.

Listen, Joel said. I think it’s no secret that I won’t be winning any elections in the near future.

You think? Creed grinned like a shark that smelled blood in the water.

If you put your name on the ticket, I could ensure your victory.

How’s that?

Joel casually led Creed in between two food stalls, bringing them out of earshot from any nosy market shoppers. Creed’s big brute stood at the entrance of the alleyway, keeping a close eye on Joel while also blocking everybody else’s view.

Creed put his foot down in something squishy and awful. He glowered at Joel. I better not catch a disease from that.

I’ll withdraw from the election, Joel said. I can make sure that whatever votes would have come my way—from the city newcomers, for example—would instead go to you.

Some of them are ill and others are children. This is no crown jewel gift, doctor.

There are more coming in every day.

Yes, and whose fault is that?

Joel ignored the attempt to anger him. Your primary opponents will be Hugo, the Master of the Wall—

If that crazy bastard wins, I’m moving to Canada.

—and Dr. Sharp.

A bit of an underachiever, that one.

Joel said, Hugo will leech some votes from everybody but he can’t win. Nobody really knows him. The only thing they do know is that he was Lanning’s right-hand man. Considering how so many cheered when Lanning was shot, I’m thinking that Hugo’s not the most popular man in town.

You’re Hugo’s friend, Creed said. He reached into his pocket, produced a cigarette, and lit up.

Joel fanned smoke out of his face. I’m not his friend.

You two came to my home with guns and demands, Creed said. Partners in crime but not friends?

Hugo has muscle and ammunition, Joel said, unable to control the temper that rose up from the back of his throat, making him sound more menacing than intended. I needed both if I was to convince you to help me back then.

I notice that you bring neither with you now.

I didn’t think I needed them.

Creed smiled. "Because you think we are friends?" He flicked the cigarette into Joel’s face.

Joel flinched but kept his fists in his pockets.

Creed’s thug stepped forward, his big head blocking out all sunlight from the alley like a solar eclipse. Creed let his mad dog know that it was all right.

Joel said, No, we’re not friends.

No, we’re not, Creed agreed.

But we can get along, I think, and do what’s right for the people of the city. Joel stomped out Creed’s cigarette on the ground. If you agree to help feed the hungry, I can help ensure you the votes you need in the coming election. You’ll be the most powerful person in the city. Dr. Sharp is not someone we can underestimate but I think if you let people see your charitable side, it’ll only make your victory that much easier to achieve.

Creed said, What stops me from kicking your charity cases out the door when I’m the boss?

Your good nature, Joel said, and a newly empowered city council whose aim it will be to prevent you from becoming a dictator.

Like McFarland.

Like him.

Will you be on the city council? Creed asked.

Only if they’ll have me. So, no, probably not.

Creed looked him up and down, possibly hoping to find the proper answer in the wrinkles of Joel’s dirty clothes.

All right, Dr. Tanner. You have a deal.

USS ORIGIN

Le Havre, France

The black submarine was half-submerged in the port. Sailors carried supplies and gingerly lowered them through the top hatch, where they were then passed onto the next man in line and packed away in the belly of the mechanical beast.

The sub had silver scars up and down its hull. Men with paint cans tried to do what they could to cover up the bruises, but it was like adding makeup to a victim of abuse—once you’d seen what was hidden beneath, the new glamor took on a darker meaning, like they were hiding away something important that shouldn’t be ignored.

Kate parked their van a few blocks away, not wanting to spook the sailors.

The sailors sent well-armed American soldiers to deal with their unexpected guests.

Keeping to his word, Ben stepped out of the van and smoothed things over. Apparently he was well known to these men and they were willing to allow his friends to join him at the dock.

See? Ben said, smiling at the occupants of the van. No worries.

Kate eyed him carefully. She tucked a pistol into the back of her pants and got out of the van. Park, Ishiro, and Emiko followed after her, each of them carrying a gun of their own.

One of the soldiers said, Leave the weapons in the van.

Kate nodded to the others and they did as they were told. She readjusted her shirt, making sure the cloth hid the pistol at her back.

Satisfied, the soldiers led Kate and the others towards the docks.

Ben said, In the Navy’s dying days, we tried to retrofit our ships and subs to face biological enemies instead of technological ones. There were many failures. The Origin subs represent the finest of human ingenuity in these new days of goliaths and sea monsters.

Looks like it’s seen its fair share of battle, said Park.

A soldier said, It was spotted by a Kraken on its last boat ride through the polar ice caps. They escaped but not without scars.

Kraken? Ishiro asked.

The soldier shrugged. Kraken, Ikarah, squidhead, glow-worm, sea monster. Communication ain’t what it used to be. These things got many names.

Ben said, What has allowed the Origin to survive the waters for so long is that, unlike other subs, it does not go out looking for a fight. This is a collaboration between the Navy and an international science community.

But I thought there was no Navy anymore, Kate said, or an Army, or an Air Force, or even a government, for that matter.

Right. And there isn’t, Ben said. America is dead but we still carry the flag. The ‘Navy’ is made up of leftovers from a military of yesteryear. They try to keep some of the traditions the same as they were back then, though. The main difference is that there is no more Pentagon so we’re all just making it up as we go along.

The soldier said, If there was still a Pentagon telling us what to do, we would all be dead by now, and that is a fact.

They reached the dock and were careful to stay out of the way of people loading gear and supplies into the submarine.

Walking along the top of the sub was an old man with a thick, silver beard and dark, wrinkled skin. He was dressed in a Navy officer’s uniform, but the clothes were tattered and old. His trousers were damp and falling apart near the ankles. Tape held his medals in place over his heart. He looked like a dead man that had pulled himself up from a watery grave.

That is your captain, Ben said. Admiral Tillman Ford is one of America’s finest military men and the oldest Admiral still working in the service of his country.

Yeah, I can believe that, Park said.

Ben seemed perturbed by his lack of respect. Admiral Ford was set to retire years ago. By all rights, he should be enjoying his twilight years on a beach somewhere. Instead, he decided that there was still more he could offer his men and his country. He’s a hero.

Kate said, I wonder, did you call Colonel Graham a hero, too? I can’t remember.

Ben took Park and Kate off to the side, leaving Emiko and Ishiro on the dock with the soldiers.

Ben spoke in hushed tones. Graham was a tyrant but he was also a tyrant who represented our best chance of winning the war, he said. I am sorry for what he did to you and your friends. The fact that I knew he would do it makes me reprehensible in your eyes—

You’re damn straight, Kate said.

And I get that, Ben said. Graham was ugly. I’m tainted by that ugliness. Okay, fine. Know that Admiral Ford is not the same man. He’s doing great things with little resources. And he’s willing to let you tag along. Don’t hang the man before meeting him.

Kate sighed and nodded reluctantly. Fair enough.

Admiral Ford noticed Ben and started towards the ramp leading to shore, but he was intercepted by a woman in glasses. The admiral tried to politely excuse himself, but the woman had started to rant, nearly yelling in his face.

Who’s that? Kate asked.

I told you that the expedition is partly scientific in nature, Ben said. Dr. Pauline Rose is the chief scientist on board.

Ben walked up the ramp, squeezing past sailors that were going in the opposite direction. He turned and waved for the others to follow him.

Ishiro hurried up and whispered into Kate’s ear, Are we sure about this? Captain Nemo and his vessel don’t look like they’ve aged well.

You want to get to America, right? Kate said. This may be your last best chance to do so. Alternatively, we could all head back to Paris.

Ishiro