"It's the end of the world as we know it" PART 1 ~ for The Writers Choice~ The 7 Days of Halloween

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Originally posted for a Halloween challenge on scrapbook, the pic was a prompt by inji. Of all my spooky fics, this one is my favoritie. Hope you like it as well. ( I love the photo!) The story was too long to do in a single post, so there's a part 2.

There was a welcoming sunrise as they’d made their way to the outskirts of what was left of the Kremlin, and Moscow.

“I can’t believe it finally happened, “ a disheveled Napoleon Solo muttered.

“Neither can I my friend, and the destruction came not from your country or mine, it came from T.H.R.U.S.H.” Illya was crouching over a campfire beside his partner, trying to warm himself.

There had been a perfectly timed apocalypse threatened in all the major cities of the world, a monumental task, one years in the making that was apparently brought to fruition by Central.

This time they had allies and had aligned themselves with every known terroristic and evil organization they could gather to their cause. They literally ganged up on the world and hit when it was least expected in a single, coordinated strike.

U.N.C.L.E. had been aware of the the potential plan, and warned the countries of the world, trying desperately to call their attention as well as garner their help. Yet many were too self-absorbed, extolling their usual rhetoric at the U.N. and remaining blissfully ignorant that the doomsday clock was ticking down. No one wanted to believe T.H.R.U.S.H. would do it….yet they did.

Napoleon and Illya had been on an assignment outside the small city of Serpukhov, roughly 99 km. south of Moscow when it happened, and acting on Illya’s instincts, they headed north to the capital to investigate instead of trying to escape into the countryside.

Napoleon looked up to the sky, staring at an ominous flock of ravens flying past the blackened and cracked onion domes of the once brightly colored St. Basil’s Cathedral, opposite were the remains of the Spasskaya Tower, with its historic clock hands frozen at 6:30, the time of the attack.

“Do you realize Napoleon, we are standing on what was once Red Square? The monument to Minin and Pozharsky is just gone...as is most of the city. By the way, those are not ravens, I believe they are bats,” Illya corrected, pointing to the cathedral. “Those flying in the distance,” he pointed towards the tower, “are magpies.”

Napoleon shrugged his indifference.”“How are we to know this wasn’t really caused by a nuclear explosion?”

“If it had been, nothing would be left standing where we are…I am sure it was not, as our feathered friends still want a world to rule and using a nuclear device would be counter productive to their plans.  What worth would it be subjugating a world where there was no one left to rule?”

.

It had taken Napoleon and Illya an extended length of time to travel the distance to Moscow; heading through areas that weren’t turned into ruin but were still suffering from a lack of power. Most people were escaping the capital, it having the largest population density. They were fleeing to the surrounding oblasts of Tver in the northwest, Yaroslavl to the north, Vladimir in the northeast and east, perhaps because of the white nights.

“No, no,”Illya shook his head, the white nights were over in July and this was October. “What am I thinking?” He was obviously shaken by the destruction of his onetime home.

From what Napoleon and Illya they could see, the city was, for the most part, abandoned. They had no way of contacting U.N.C.L.E.  Food was scarce, but water plentiful...though they dared not drink any in the city just to be on the safe side.

Two men on one white horse was not a surprising image as hundreds of refugees had passed them, heading away from the city.  There were a few instances where thugs tried to relieve them of the horse, but both agents having their Specials ready, thwarted the attempts.

There had been no great mushroom cloud in the sky, indicating it was not nuclear in nature, as that would have made the targets unlivable for decades. T.H.R.U.S.H. wanted subjugation, not annihilation.  The explosion however, was massive, filling the sky with a black acrid smoke that lasted for days, hanging over the city like a dark shroud. What they used was powerful enough to create just enough devastation. Yet the purpose to their madness was to infect portions of the population with a complicated chemical formula released when the bomb exploded, exposing many in the cities that had been targeted to it’s bizarre effects.

The multi-faceted device they used also set off an immensely powerful electromagnetic pulse, shutting down all communications as well and any electrical devices. There were no lights, flashlights, cars stopped dead, electric railways...anything and everything that required electricity in the affected cities was useless.

“Dare we try to explore the city any farther?” Napoleon asked.

“Why not? I may be able to find enough components put together a hand-cranked power generator of sorts.  We could wire it to one of our communicators and get an emergency signal out on a frequency or two, possibly contacting anyone who was not affected.”

“But doesn’t an electromagnetic pulse destroy everything electrical?”

“It does not destroy devices, such as cars, radios and so forth; it destroys their power source.  If I can construct my own power source, it should work.”

“Are you talking about making something like an old copper-wired dynamo?”

“Precisely, I can surely assemble a basic one if I can find the necessary parts."

After regretfully letting the horse go, the agents ventured into the remains of the city, walking carefully over the debris and corpses scattered everywhere.  The bodies were bloated and pale, showing signs of trauma, but oddly there were no flies around them, and no sign of decomposition, per se.

Illya scrounged through several buildings that were partially intact, and as if luck were on his side for once, he found a tool kit, spools of copper wire and other parts he needed for his project, the last thing he needed and found  the discarded pedals to a bicycle, along with the gears and chain.

He heard a creak on a floorboard behind him, and turned around, assuming it was his partner.

What he saw gave him a gasping start. It wasn’t Napoleon, but someone standing staring at him, and impossibly so….looking very much dead, with a pair of blue eyes clouded over as only a corpse could have. His blood-smeared mouth was open in a sort of a feral grin.

Illya assumed it was not possible he was dead and spoke to him, though the mans face was gruesomely distorted.

"Кто ты? Что вы хотите_who are you? What do you want?” Illya demanded, though as soon as he spoke the hideous man made a dive for him, grabbing him by the shoulders. Its mouth opened even wider, snapping at him like a wild animal, trying to bite him on the neck.

Part 2