Fallen Zero

Vector knelt down in the snow and checked his watch. “Twelve minutes left.” He said to himself before standing back up, and slinging his backpack on. He looked around the room he was in for a moment. A hanging, but still functioning light was swaying back and forth in the center of the room. Near one corner sat busted computers and a line of desks, with papers scattered and thrown all around. Opposite of that, were a few bookshelves leaned up against the wall, and one that had fallen face down onto the floor. The books were all covered in snow, and mostly unreadable. The window above it, from which he came in, was mostly shattered, with only a few panes of glass still holding on. A strong wind was blowing snow in from outside, and as he peered out he noticed the clouds were a pale shade of purple. The sun had begun to go down some hours ago, and it wouldn’t be long until the moon would rise. Snow and ice covered the floor as he started making his way towards a door on the other side of the room. In front of it sat a filing cabinet that had been knocked over and frozen. Mustering up his strength, he pulled it from its resting position, and tossed it to the side. A loud crash echoed throughout the small room as it landed. He winced from the sound, and adjusted his goggles. Reaching out, he grabbed the door handle and pushed it open. It cracked at first, sending crystals of ice in all directions, then slowly swung open with an ominous creaking. The sound echoed throughout the hallway. Vector let out a small grunt as he peered into the poorly lit hallway. In his left hand, he had been holding a Hunting rifle, fitted with a detachable medium range scope, bayonet, and a flashlight. It was his father’s rifle, given to him when he was still young, before his father went missing. He was only 7 at the time, and that was twelve years ago. Nobody knows what happened, even to this day.

He reached down, unclipped the light from the rifle, and clicked it on. The beam cut like a knife as it burned away the darkness. Water was dripping from the ceiling, and the floor was somewhat flooded with around an inch of water. A small bump of ice stopped it from flowing into the room he was in. Taking a few steps forward into the hallway, he swung his light around from side to side, taking in his surroundings. He wasn’t quite sure what kind of building he had stumbled into. The storm outside limited his eyesight on his approach, as usual. To his left sat a door, and to his right a stairwell with a mound of rubble piled on it. He was on the search for anything useful. Food, water and even scrap metal. He needed to check every room possible but he was running out of time. Turning to his left, he clipped his light back onto his rifle. As he did, he pondered it for a moment. It was an old bolt action rifle, with a worn wrapping around a wooden body. He never did know much about his father even before the disappearance. He was too young to ever really comprehend their situation anyway. His father was one of the few who managed to seek shelter underground and survived this whole catastrophe. His father never told him his real name or who his mother was, but all his friends back at the outpost have taken to calling him “Vector” due to his incredible skills with a sniper rifle. Why had his father never talked to him? Explained anything? He shook his head and roused himself from his thoughts as he focused his eyes on the door. His hands gripped his rifle, pulling the bolt back, and then pushing it forward. He lifted it up with one hand, and took the doorknob with the other. With the way the world was now, animals became unpredictable, and even outright savage. Something about them had changed in an almost supernatural way. Animals who were harmless before, became ravenous beasts. He would never forget the time he witnessed a wanderer get his face torn off by a squirrel with seemingly insane strength. Once again, he had to rouse himself from thought, and with a tight hold on his gun, and a shaky grip on the door, he pulled it open. His light pierced the darkness within, and his eyes scanned the room. A horrible sight was presented before him. There were fifteen, no, twenty of them. Scattered and motionless. Vector’s heart sank, and his stomach flipped. He was in a school. He stared in shock at the halfway preserved corpses of children. Some were still sitting in their desks, frozen solid. The teacher was also there, near the front of the room. He was frozen in place, reaching for a window. The poor guy must have been trying to stop the cold during The Flash.

Thirty years ago, in the summer that few alive can remember, a storm ravaged the world. Survivors took to calling it The Flash. A weather anomaly that would change the entire world. Dark clouds began to slowly encompass the sky. Then, without warning and quite literally out of nowhere, Temperatures dropped within seconds as the harshest blizzards known to man began to rage. Within the first minute of The Flash, temperatures dropped to negative thirty degrees Fahrenheit in the warmest of places, then another minute went by, and the temperatures had reached negative eighty. Millions of people and animals died in the spots they stood, their bodies completely unable to cope with sheer and sudden drop to such deadly temperatures. Many died before they could even comprehend what was happening, leaving behind preserved husks of an age long passed. Within an hour, The entirety of the United States were either dead, or seeking refuge in Underground tunnels not quite reachable by the cold. The clouds had slowly spread across the world. Warnings and advisories were barely given out, as the storm moved faster than any recorded hurricane or storm. The clouds had reached Moscow by the second hour. Ever since then, Moscow, and most of Russia as well as other areas like them have been declared Deadzones. Temperatures so low, even the protective gear developed by survivors wouldn’t allow survival. Suddenly, a soft beeping was heard. Startled from his thoughts, Vector looked down at his watch. “Ten minutes.” His watch was connected to a specially designed device attached to his clothing. It was developed by survivors of the initial Flash a couple years after hiding underground. They called it the “Universal-Energy-Converter″ or, “UEC” for short. While it is possible to exist on the surface during the day without such a kit, it is essential for surviving the harsh storms that rage constantly on the surface, especially at night. The interface tool attached to it allows it to absorb most forms of energy and transform it into heat energy, to distribute it throughout the person’s attire and keep them warm. The major flaw being, even the most advanced UEC’s can only support a person for a maximum of around six hours without additional power supplements. Vector was nowhere near a known power source and daylight was fading quickly as it was, not that it would pierce the storm anyway. He took a quick walk around the room, mindfully stepping over and around frozen bodies as he went. Creaking and odd sounds of scraping metal echoed from somewhere else in the building. His eyes slowly swept across the room, following his flashlight’s beam. Tucked away in a corner was a corpse, frozen solid like the others though plagued with frost. Clutched in its hand was a book. Vector’s morbid curiosity peaked, as he took a few steps towards it and knelt down. The cover depicted an arrangement of planets, and stars. The title read “Space and The Oddities of The Cosmos”. Vector raised an eyebrow. He couldn’t remember the last time he even saw the sky free of clouds, let alone a star. He reached out his hand, and gripped the top of it. Slowly, he pulled upward. It resisted at first, but slowly broke free of the poor child’s grasp. He held it in his hand for a moment, and examined it. Turning it around, and wiping some frost from the backside. He began to open it, when a soft beeping rang out again. He lifted his right arm, and checked his watch. “Five minutes,” He said, as anxiety began to take hold. It was soon to be nightfall, and that meant deadly temperature levels. He packed the book away into his backpack, and stood up. Pulling a map from his pocket, he unfolded it and found where he should be. He marked it with a pencil. “RFC” with a circle. Return for collection.

Folding the map, and returning it to his pocket, he turned around and walked back to the hallway. He looked out to his left. Something about the long darkness enticed him. Called to him. He didn’t have time for that now. Camp was ten minutes away, and he had to get there in four. Walking with a quick pace, he returned to the room he entered from, and stopped just before the window. A mirror on his right scared him. He hadn’t noticed it before. He gazed at himself for a moment. He was wearing his standard exploration gear, a brown hooded jacket, beige combat gloves he found near an old military base, and dark gray cargo pants. His boots were a military issue, granted to him by a very generous government drone that accidentally crash landed near him once. A balaclava with two eye holes hugged his head, with reflective goggles covering his eyes. A respirator hung around his neck, with a tube running into his backpack, connected to a small and lightweight oxygen tank. These types of masks weren’t required for surface travel, but they help with breathing when traversing storms and high fog zones. He put on his respirator, and climbed out the window.

Once outside, the cold winds hit him hard. Snow was coming down, and it was falling hard as well. His vision was very limited, and his flashlight was only able to reveal a foot or so in front of him. The snow was deep, but still soft. He checked his watch as he trudged forward. “Four minutes, ten seconds” He whispered to himself. The sounds of the winds were deafening as he continued trekking onward. He wiped some snow off his goggles as a new sight came into view. A small collection of buildings along a road. Must have been a town at one time, or something similar. His heart sank. He had wandered into the wrong direction, and into unfamiliar territory. He stood motionless, taking in the sights in front of him. To the left sat about six buildings, spanning a fairly large distance, and to his right was much the same. There was a smaller building close by, and he could barely make out some lights on inside. Lights? People? I don’t have enough time to turn around… He thought to himself. His watch beeped. Raising his arm, he looked at it. “Two minutes” He said with a panicked voice. Vector began to quickly rush through the snow toward the lit building. He stumbled and tripped a little after every couple of steps, as high winds blew snow and pieces of ice into his face. Eventually he reached the front of the building. It was an old gas station, the windows were barricaded and sealed tightly, and the door was closed. A small light illuminated the doorstep, with another two that seemed to wrap around the other side of the building. His watch beeped again. He didn’t need to look at it this time, and simply said “One minute.” He took a deep breath, and gripped the door handle.