Cure

By mistichamberlain

Night was closing in on him and fast. Coby searched through the endless desert sands for even a bit of shelter for the evening. He had been out here for days, walking through this dry, desolate wasteland. People used to live here? He thought as he trekked through the sand.

The setting sun caught a quick reflection of something ahead of him. Coby picked up speed. Although he hadn't seen any in miles, Sleepers could still pop up out of nowhere and he didn't want to be caught in the dark with them. What caught his eye was a welcome sight. An antique VW Van was mostly buried under the dunes. Coby had read about these in ancient history classes. Apparently, vehicles like this used to carry travelers to music concerts and festivals. He had never seen a real one before. Even museums didn't have them! This was the find of a lifetime. It was said most old cars had disintegrated over time, rusting away to nothing.

Coby approached the van with caution, however. One could never be too careful when it came to safety – or Sleepers. The van appeared empty and was the only piece of shelter for miles. Coby decided to bed down here. His excitement rose as he explored the vehicle. He was really going to sleep in a car! This was legendary. None of his friends would believe this! The outside was faded, but the blue and green paint covered in ancient writings and symbols was still prominent. Coby ran his hand around a large circular symbol. He wondered what it meant as he traced the three lines that ran through its center. Other symbols, more nature like in appearance covered the van as well. He wished he had paid more attention in ancient writings class in school.

Inside the van was even more intriguing. Posters hung on the walls, many torn from wind and age. One stuck out to Coby though, perhaps because it was the only whole one remaining. A photo of a band playing on stage was in the center. To the lower right corner of the photo, overlaying the bottom corner were the words "Canned Peaches". Coby ran the words through his head again, Canned Peaches? A band? A concert? He would have loved to have been around when they were playing. So much adventure with the ancient ones, fun, and enjoyment. Totally born in the wrong century.

Although he struggled with the sliding door, Coby finally managed to shut it against the enclosing darkness without incident. A feeling of warmth and safety overcame him and he fell asleep almost instantly.

The sun rose, and Coby did too. The sound of scratching outside the van brought him out of his peaceful stupor. He no longer felt the safety he felt before. He knew that sound all too well. Sleepers were creeping in on him from all sides. It was going to take some skill to get out of here.

Gathering the weapons from his pack, Coby prepared for the one-man battle that would ensue. Luckily, the front and driver side of the van were covered in sand, or else this situation could mean death. Coby pulled out his machete and held it steady as he slowly emerged from the vehicle. The sound of the rusty door got their attention, and fast. Coby was faster. The head of the first Sleeper soon lay at his feet followed quickly by the second. Behind him a scratching noise caught his attention. Coby turned just in time to catch the third Sleeper as it jumped from the rooftop.

Time to go. He pulled his pack out of the van. Got to keep movin'. The ancient ruins couldn't be much further. According to lined maps, he should be approaching the city soon. But in the never-ending sands, one could get turned around easily. Coby left the van behind, but took the Canned Peaches poster. His friends back home would never believe him. He also decided to take a quick moment and sketch out the scene of the van buried in the sand, being sure to capture the naturistic details of the ancient symbols on the sides. One poster inside the van had the letters P-E-A-C-E associated with the symbol- PEACE, something one did not get to experience much of in his society.

---

Finally! The ancient city loomed before him. Coby could feel an energy in this city, even after all the years that had passed. Nature had once again taken over the ancient buildings. Sand piled high against the walls, sometimes as deep as the fourth floors. An eerie silence fell over him as he stared up into the broken, black windows.

Movement caught his eye. Watch for Sleepers, he thought, Never get caught unaware. Ahead, another shadowy movement grabbed his attention. He readied his trusty machete, and continued toward his destination.

There it was again, a quick movement just out of his line of sight. Coby ignored it this time, determined to catch the creature unawares. He stalked his way silently through the old streets. So much history was hidden in these old streets and legendary buildings. Coby just wanted to soak it all in, study everything, but he hadn't the time. Instead, he'd been sent here on a mission, and it was time to complete it.

The movement nearly startled him, but he'd been ready. As the figure darted toward him, Coby swung his knife. The creature ducked, making its way around to his back. Coby turned just as the figure approached him again. Coby blocked the creature, tripping it. Holding it to the ground, he pinned its arms and legs.

"Let me go!" a female voice yelled. "Let me go!"

"Stop struggling!" he declared, "And I will. You forget who attacked who?"

She stopped and he let her stand. "Just what are you doing here?" she demanded.

"I have my reasons," he said.

"You're not going to find it, you know," she said, a lot more softly than before.

"Find what?"

"The cure. It's a thing of legends. People come through here all the time, searching, searching, searching, and they all end up the same way. The same fate."

Coby stopped his retort. He looked at the girl in her torn jeans, boots, Buffy the Vampire Slayer t-shirt, ponytail, and his gaze falling on her eyes. She wasn't kidding.

"I still have to try," he said, picking up his machete and heading south once again. Ahead of him a pyramid loomed, still shining in the sun's rays.

"Good luck."

He made his way through the ancient streets until he was lost. The sun beat down on him, and seemed to only grow in heat and intensity as the day wore on. By evening, he was injured, but still making his way toward his destination. Sometimes the injury is worth it, he thought as he wrapped his bleeding leg.

He was on the right path. An old freeway ran beside him, and according to his maps, these would lead to the place.

With night setting in, Coby was more nervous. His leg wasn't too bad to walk on, but it still slowed him down. Sleepers would rise soon, ready to eat whatever lay in their path. Coby was extra attentive as he shuffled through the deserted streets. Although buildings surrounded him, he felt he was too close to his destination to stop.

He rounded a corner, and was face to face with a Sleeper. His machete at his side, Coby struggled a little to free it from the leather holster that held it in place. The Sleeper was nearly upon him and he could smell its rank breath as he beheaded the monster. Another approached him from behind, and another, and another. Too many. Coby began to run. His leg ached, and he could feel the blood running down to his ankle. He kept running, dodging between buildings and closer toward his ultimate destination.

Behind him, Sleepers flooded out of everywhere. Not only were they after him and the fresh dinner he would provide, but they were fighting with each other. Coby had never seen that before, but didn't have time to dwell on it. He needed to find shelter.

As he rounded the last corner, a great white building loomed. Coby made for the nearest door, hoping to get away from the Sleepers. He could smell death emanating from their rotting corpses. He dove through the doorway, only to find weaponry and the girl he'd tackled earlier.

"Don't ask," she said, "Just shoot."

---

It was morning. Coby rose to find the girl gone, and a note that said simply,

Good luck.

After rebandaging his leg, Coby left, once again making his way through silent buildings and dark windows. The eerie feeling rolled over him again as he stepped around the corner and was greeted with yet more Sleepers. They weren't moving. Coby slipped past them. The Sleepers were lined up, almost like guards at a palace.

The dank, musty odor of the building in front of him was a welcome change from the rotten smell of death behind him. Silently, he inched the heavy metal door shut. He didn't want to wake them. Wake one, wake them all, they say. As the door began to just click shut, a loud groan emanated from the ancient hinges. Sleepers roused and marched toward the old hospital.

His heart jumped and his stomach flipped as he gave the door a final push. Piles of sand fought against him from the outside. As it finally clicked into place, he grasped the rusty metal bar designed to hold the outside out into the brace. The hinge was rusty, but reluctantly turned. He was safe – for now. Coby stepped away from the door, sighing with relief.

He was in an old hospital, built in the 20th century, most likely. White-tiled walls, preserved in the sandy deserts of what was once Nev-Ada, surrounded him. Chairs, the cushions rotten from age, lined the walls. Tables, made of a fibrous substance, were placed in front of the chairs. Is that wood? He ran his fingers over the surface, but couldn't tell. Remains of books, magazines, and papers scattered the floors and counters. Legend said this is where it all started, this is where the End of Time began, in this hospital so long ago.

Coby didn't dwell on it. He was so close. Two months! Two months he'd been searching for this place in the lost city buried in sand and time. Somewhere, in this ancient hospital, a cure could be found. He never would have found it if he hadn't stumbled, yes literally stumbled, onto the right trail. He had fallen over the ancient sign proclaiming the city's "claim to fame", hurting his leg in the process, but gaining direction.

"Fabulous," it said, and "Welcome", in red and blue letters. At least Coby could read ancient English. He'd spent years studying while everyone laughed. Now, he was glad he did or else he still might be wandering the desert trying to avoid the Sleepers, resting in old VW Vans. Finally, he was closing in on the mythical cure, so close he could smell it.

Wait, what was that smell? It was not musty or ancient, just...different. Coby turned slowly. A Sleeper had crept up on him. The scent of rot emanated from the creeping creature. Almost mummified in appearance, dark, dry skin clung to the skeletal remains of what would have been a woman. Coby held his knife at the ready. He'd wait for her, as there was no use in jumping in too soon. People died jumping in to soon, and he wasn't that stupid.

She shuffled closer, dragging a broken, casted leg behind her. At one time, she may have been a patient. Coby felt sorry for the innocents who had been exposed to the disease here in the heart of the action. They had no chance of survival. When the bombs had hit, the city residents had been the first victims. Somehow, somewhere in the building, two of three immune patients gave their lives to save others, developing a cure, and leaving it for others to find.

Coby stopped the incoming Sleeper with a simple slash of his knife. One or two, no problem. Get over three of them, and a sort of pack mentality set in. You were screwed if you weren't careful.

They'd called them Sleepers—the sick who walked like they were asleep. Resting, yet a hunger shone in their eyes. They were most certainly not sleeping as they hunted and ate. In fact, in their rabid late stages they were anything but asleep. Coby had seen the horrible moments of said Sleepers diving into a body, fighting over the insides like they were candy. Intestines, heart, liver, lungs, the whole shebang; gone in sixty seconds. All that remained was a skeleton and scraps of muscle held in place by tattered skin.

He cringed just thinking about it. Find the cure, and never worry again. Help them. Or at least help those you promised you would.

Coby walked the dark hall where the Sleeper had come from. No point in wimping out now. He kept his light low so as not to wake any potential monsters. Not monsters, he reminded himself, The sick. He had to go down. According to history books, laboratories were in the lower sanctums of old buildings. How many floors would he have to go to find the lab, he didn't know.

He made his way through the dark hallways, always heading down on the stairways. Four floors. Five? Not another sleeper was found. They most likely fled ages ago. Windows, dusty and dark, surrounded him on either side. He caught his reflection in an old mirror: tired, dirty, and too old for his age. As he continued, he found another empty room. Only this time, enclosed in a sealed glass compartment, was a silvery liquid.

Coby entered the room silently, guarded by four long-dead doctors and scientists. White lab coats hung in tatters on their bodies. A fifth body lay nearby, no lab coat. Jeans and a hoodie. Coby felt as though they were watching, waiting for someone to arrive. If he wouldn't have been so excited to see the silvery liquid that appeared to be glowing in the glass container, he may have noticed the tiny little switch nearby.

Let's see if this works, he thought as he began to lift the glass off the pedestal. As soon as he did, the room sprang to life.

Within a minute, another mummified body joined the ranks of Sleeper forever guarding the precious silvery cure.

-*-*-