The humid Virginia air hung thick and heavy, the kind that
made your clothes stick to your skin and the simple act of breathing feel like
a chore. For Specialist Alex Sterling, the oppressive atmosphere was a perfect
metaphor for his current station in life. At twenty-four, with six years of
service under his belt, he was an E-4 in the United States Army Military
Police, a title that sounded far more impressive than the reality of his
day-to-day existence. His current reality was a guard shack at the main gate of
Fort Valor, a sprawling military installation that was, in his opinion, a black
hole of ambition.
"You ever think," Alex began, his voice a low
drawl of a man who had long since resigned himself to his fate, "that
we're like the world's most overqualified bouncers?"
His partner for the shift, Corporal David Chen, a man whose
round face and perpetual smirk made him look more like a mischievous cherub
than a soldier, snorted a laugh. "Nah, man. Bouncers get to throw people
out. We just get to politely ask them to turn around if they forget their ID.
It's way less satisfying."
Alex leaned back in his chair, the worn plastic groaning in
protest. He watched as a minivan, undoubtedly belonging to a soccer mom late
for practice, rolled up to the gate. He went through the motions, his movements
economical and practiced. A polite smile, a request for identification, a quick
scan, and a wave through. It was a dance he had performed thousands of times, a
mindless ballet of security theater.
He had joined the army at eighteen, fresh out of high
school, with a head full of romantic notions about honor, duty, and high-stakes
missions. He'd imagined himself kicking down doors in some far-flung corner of
the world, a hero in the making. Instead, he'd spent the last four years in a
revolving door of mind-numbingly dull assignments, from directing traffic at
the commissary to standing guard over a warehouse full of toilet paper. He was
smart, perceptive, and had a knack for seeing things others missed, but the
army, in its infinite wisdom, seemed determined to utilize his talents in the
most mundane ways imaginable.
"I swear, if one more person asks me for directions to
the PX, I'm going to have an aneurysm," Alex muttered, sinking back into
his chair.
"Hey, be nice," Chen chided, though the twinkle in
his eye betrayed his amusement. "That's Mrs. Henderson. Her son is in
basic. She brings us cookies on Tuesdays."
"It's Thursday," Alex deadpanned.
"Details, details," Chen waved a dismissive hand.
"The point is, free cookies. It's the little things, my friend. The little
things that keep us from going completely insane."
Alex had to admit, Chen had a point. If it weren't for his
friend's constant stream of witty retorts and an uncanny ability to find humor
in the most soul-crushing of circumstances, Alex probably would have lost his
mind years ago. They had been through basic training together, two scared kids
trying to find their place in a world of screaming drill sergeants and
impossibly early mornings. Chen had always been there, a steady and reliable
presence, a brother in all but blood.
"You know what I was thinking about last night?"
Chen said, a thoughtful expression on his face.
"The complex geopolitical ramifications of our current
foreign policy?" Alex ventured, a smirk playing on his lips.
"No, smartass," Chen shot back. "I was
thinking about how, if aliens ever invaded, we'd be the first to know. We're
the front lines, man. The tip of the spear."
Alex let out a dry chuckle. "Yeah, because a race of
technologically superior beings capable of interstellar travel would definitely
be stopped by our little pop-up barricade and a sternly worded warning."
"You mock, but I'm telling you, it's a
possibility," Chen insisted. "And when it happens, I'm gonna be
ready. I've been watching all the movies. I know what to do."
"And what's that? Offer them a Fresca?" Alex
quipped, referencing an old, obscure movie they had both found hilarious.
Before Chen could respond, a low rumble vibrated through the
guard shack, a deep, guttural sound that seemed to come from the very earth
itself. The windows rattled in their frames, and the half-empty coffee mugs on
the counter danced precariously close to the edge.
"What the hell was that?" Alex said, his boredom
instantly replaced by a surge of adrenaline. He stood up, his hand
instinctively going to the hilt of his sidearm.
Chen was already at the window, his eyes wide with a mixture
of fear and a strange, almost giddy excitement. "Dude, you are not going
to believe this."
Alex joined him at the window, and his jaw went slack.
Streaking across the sky, leaving a trail of fire and smoke in its wake, was a
massive object, bigger than any plane he had ever seen. It was hurtling towards
the center of the base, a harbinger of chaos and destruction.
"Is that… a meteor?" Chen breathed, his voice
barely a whisper.
"I don't think so," Alex said, his mind racing. It
was moving too fast, too deliberately. It wasn't just falling; it was being
aimed.
The world seemed to slow down as the object slammed into the
earth, a cataclysmic impact that sent a shockwave of energy and debris
radiating outwards. The ground bucked and heaved like a living thing, and a
deafening roar, a sound that transcended mere noise and became a physical
force, tore through the air. The guard shack, their tiny bastion of boredom,
was ripped from its foundation and tossed aside like a child's toy.
Alex was thrown against the far wall, the impact knocking
the wind out of him. His head slammed against the concrete, and the world
dissolved into a dizzying kaleidoscope of light and shadow. Through the ringing
in his ears, he could hear Chen's pained groan, a sound that was quickly
swallowed by the cacophony of destruction.
He fought to stay conscious, to push through the pain and
the confusion. He had to get to Chen. He had to… what? What could he possibly
do in the face of this?
He crawled through the wreckage of the guard shack, his body
screaming in protest. He could see Chen a few feet away, lying in a heap, a
gash on his forehead bleeding freely. He was unconscious, but he was breathing.
Thank God, he was breathing.
Alex dragged himself to his friend's side, his vision
blurring in and out of focus. He had to get them out of there. He had to…
And then he saw it.
Rising from the massive crater that now occupied the center
of the base, a swirling vortex of dust and debris, was a figure of impossible
scale. It was a gorilla, a monstrous, skyscraper-sized behemoth with fur as
black as the void and eyes that glowed with a malevolent, fiery red. It threw
its head back and let out a roar, a sound that was not of this world, a primal
scream of conquest and fury that shook the very foundations of Alex's soul.
The last thing Alex saw before the darkness claimed him was
the creature beating its massive chest, a triumphant, terrifying display of
power. And in that moment, as his world faded to black, he knew that his life
of boredom was over. The joke was on him. The end of the world had arrived, and
he was at ground zero.