Clean Up Crew

Apollo, clad in his florescent yellow hazmat suit and mask, jumps as the door slams shut behind the last person in line. Each person packed like sardines into the room—save for the Sergeant standing up front—is dressed exactly like he is. Through the mask, it’s hard to tell, but Apollo is freshly twenty, bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, and excited about his new job. He knows some of his fellow recruits are here, feeling the same way. He’s vibrating, shifting back and forth on his feet with nervous energy.

“Relax, man, this room is only so big.” A voice from behind him says, amusement lacing his tone. Apollo turns to face the taller man and attempts to make out some of his facial features. His hair is light, like Apollo’s, but he seems a bit older. Apollo thinks he can make out a few scars lining various facial features.

That comment makes Apollo take in his surroundings; the walls are entirely made of concrete, with only one giant window facing toward the dilapidated city before them. The late afternoon sunlight beams in through the window, giving the hazmat suits a reflective glow. A flat-screen television is mounted in each corner of the room and displays the message: PLEASE AWAIT A MESSAGE FROM COLONEL SCOFIELD.

“Sorry. Apollo.” Apollo shifts the rifle in his hands to offer one for a handshake.

“Ewan.” The taller man returns the handshake before they both shift their attention to the sound of static coming from the TVs. After a moment of static, an angry, grizzled-looking man in military fatigues appears on the screen, standing in front of a white wall.

“Good afternoon to both seasoned veterans, and the recruits from the class of 2275.” The Colonel pauses, expecting the roar of excitement from the recruits. Apollo, being one of them, can’t help but let out an excited whoop. Ewan shakes his head at the sound.

With a knowing nod, the Colonel continues. “As this is the first day of hunting season, it’s my job to state the ground rules to ensure everyone is still aware of them. First, do your best to not come into contact with any of the creatures you encounter. If one of them happens to touch you, radio HQ and request evac immediately. Second, pick a person and stick with them. You are not allowed to leave your partners’ sight until you arrive back at HQ. Finally, no man will be left behind. If you or your partner are unable to evacuate successfully on your own, radio HQ immediately. If you have any other questions, you may direct them to your onsite Sergeant Corpo.”

Another man in military fatigues steps forward from the crowd. He raises his hand to identify himself and stands in front of the large window for the remainder of the presentation.

“You were all selected for a reason.” The Colonel continues. “Do not doubt yourself in the field, there’s no time for that. Happy hunting.”

This time, it’s not just the recruits that burst into cheers. Nearly everyone in the room—save for Ewan, Sergeant Corpo, and a handful of the more senior veterans—cheers, loud hoots, and hollers and whistles ricocheting off the concrete walls. The wall on Apollo’s right, with a loud groan, begins lifting upwards, opening like a gate releasing cattle.

“Find a partner before the wall comes up. If you do not have a partner, do not exit HQ. Come see me and we will assign you one.” Sergeant Corpo shouts, barely understandable above the noise.

Apollo’s eyes search the room as seemingly everyone in front of him immediately finds their partner. Ewan shoves the pair next to Apollo out of the way, looking down at him before speaking.

“You can be my partner if you want, kid.” Ewan has to shout over the cacophony of voices. Apollo shifts his grip on his rifle and nods. “Good. Let’s go.”

Ewan leads the way, shoving past individuals still searching for a partner to line up behind the group of established partners. The wall is high enough to duck under now, and several groups do, while most wait until the wall is finished rising.

When the full landscape is finally revealed, groups begin falling out and heading in different directions, everyone desperate to get moving. Apollo, stunned, watches for a moment. The landscape here is nothing like that of his home city. Here, there is no greenery, only the gray remnants of concrete the bomb couldn’t get rid of, and the scattering of debris where grass should be.

“Come on, kid. We’re burning daylight.” Ewan nudges Apollo’s arm with his own and exits HQ. Trailing behind him, Apollo takes in his surroundings as they venture deeper into the wreckage of the city.

“So, uh, how long have you been hunting?” Apollo asks. He notices Ewan now has his rifle raised, ready to shoot anything that moves, and he takes up the same stance.

“About six years now. I started as soon as I graduated, just like you. Thought it’d be fun to shoot stuff all day.” Ewan says, moving closer to the concrete remains of what looks like an old apartment building. It’s small, appropriate for the size the city used to be, but it amazes Apollo that it’s still standing.

“And? Six years later, is it still fun to shoot stuff all day?”

Ewan approaches a gaping hole in the side of the concrete and peers into the structure, searching for a sign of life. He motions for Apollo to follow before answering, his voice barely above a whisper. “It gets old quick. Keep your voice down in here, alright? They like shelter.”

Apollo only nods, and they continue their search in silence. The ground floor comes up empty, and Ewan motions for Apollo to follow him to the first floor.

At the top of the stairs, they approach a closed door. They both make eye contact, nodding at each other before Ewan slams open the door with his shoulder. Ewan enters first, Apollo behind him, who instinctively jumps upon hearing a hiss from the corner of the room.

They both immediately point their guns in the direction of the sound. There, huddled in the corner of the room, is a creature Apollo had never been shown in his prep classes. The grotesque little thing had the body and face of a pig, but fur like a bear cub. It sits hunched on its human-like forearms, webbed fingers digging into concrete, as it stares down the two hunters. Apollo’s sweaty hands struggle to reorient his grip, slipping several times before he can get his finger near the trigger. In the time it takes to get a good grip, Ewan has already aimed and shot the thing twice from a distance. Ewan looks back at Apollo, eyebrows raised.

“You wanna finish it off?”

Apollo can only nod before walking over to the writhing creature. He looks through his sight, aims between the thing’s eyes, and pulls the trigger. With a huff, he turns around to face Ewan.

“You good?” Ewan asks, amusement coloring his tone.

“Yeah, just—wasn’t expecting that.”

Ewan scoffs as he turns around and walks back to the stairwell. Apollo quickly follows. “Yeah, they don’t exactly give you a real idea of what you’re here to kill. They’re probably still showing that two-headed cow from 2127.”

As they trek up the stairs, Apollo confirms, “They are.”

Apollo attempts to tap into his training as they continue to ascend the stairs. He scans the room opposite Ewan and back again in tandem with his partner, always watching him out of the corner of his eye. The second floor is empty, save for only rubble and remnants of metal appliances. They clear each of the rooms—finding nothing—before they ascend to the next floor.

“Nice and quiet up here, too,” Apollo calls to his partner as he nudges open a bedroom door with his boot. Anything left intact is covered in years of soot and dust, making it difficult to make out what’s what.

“Good, come on. There’s just the top floor left.”

With a newfound pep in his step, confidence from his first encounter propelling him forward, he trails excitedly behind Ewan. They make their way quietly up the stairs, scanning the areas around them with guns drawn. Immediately upon exiting the stairwell, the sound of a long, low groan prompts the men to give each other a look.

They move out in unison, side by side, fingers on the triggers of their guns. Ewan begins kicking in every front door in sight, searching each apartment from top to bottom for the source of the sound. As they get closer to the apartments at the end of the hall, the sound begins to get louder.

Ewan and Apollo share another knowing look, and Apollo takes off for the last apartment on the left, the one with the door off the hinges. Ewan follows closely behind as Apollo enters the room; rifle ready to shoot. The living room, while in complete shambles, is clear. None of the rubble in this apartment is easily recognizable. Even the kitchen appliances are dented and warped, drawing Apollo’s eyebrows together in confusion as he looks at the damage.

“Come on,” says Ewan in a whisper, “I think it’s coming from the bedroom.”

Apollo is quick to jump back in front of Ewan, desperate to be the first one on the scene. The bedroom door is scratched and dented but otherwise remains on the hinges, and Apollo nudges it open with his boot.

The room is empty, but they both know the sound is coming from somewhere in this room. It’s much louder now, and Apollo is beginning to think it sounds too close to human for his liking. Both men slowly walk around the bed, venturing to the attached bathroom before they stop in their tracks.

There, in the doorway, lies the moaning figure they were searching for. There’s so much blood and viscera it takes a moment for Apollo to realize what he’s seeing. It’s a humanoid figure, but any remnant of skin or recognizable feature has either been clawed off or has melted away. Its eye sockets are empty, and its only discernable appendage seems to be clutching tight to something.

“You gonna do it, or am I?” Ewan asks, shifting his weight from foot to foot, rifle dangling by his side.

“No, I can do it,” says Apollo, aiming down the sight directly in between the thing’s eye sockets. After only a moment’s hesitation, he fires, the sound echoing throughout the concrete walls of the tiny room. Apollo’s ears are ringing from the gunfire, but he notices the creature’s hand relax and watches as something spills out from between its fingers.

Apollo kneels to get a closer look. While it’s completely stained red with the creature’s blood, he can make out the same military insignia that adorns the breast of his hazmat suit. As he continues to inspect it, he realizes the material was originally the same yellow as his own suit.

He looks up at Ewan, eyes wide in horror. “What is this?”

“Kid, let’s go—”

“No, Ewan, what the fuck is this?” Apollo’s voice echoes off the walls as he stands, moving closer to Ewan so their masks are close to touching. “They said leaving a partner behind warrants jail time. Half of the guys in my graduating class only agreed to do this because they had a guarantee they wouldn’t be stranded in an active war zone!”

Ewan desperately tries to calm Apollo down, “Please keep your voice down, they’ve got drones everywhere.” Ewan slings the rifle onto his shoulders and places his hands on Apollo’s biceps.

“What they leave unsaid is that it’s only a crime to leave the uninjured behind. If someone gets bitten or clawed… they send a team to take care of it, but they never make it back to HQ. They’ve—Christ, Apollo, they’ve turned us away at evac before. Told us to put the hunter back where we found him and then we could hitch a ride. This thing—it’s not the noble cause they tell you it is.”

Apollo, incredulous, can’t seem to keep his voice down. “What’s the point, then? Why does anyone stay after they find out?”

Ewan furrows his eyebrows at him, jaw clenching tight. “Why are you here, huh? Because you thought this would be like playing a video game, but in real life, and you get paid for it. They lock kids your age who don’t know any better into a contract that doesn’t seem so bad, since it leaves you set for life if you complete it. But it also leaves you destined for decades in prison if you don’t.”

Apollo’s eyes cast toward the floor. “Is that why you still hunt?”

It’s Ewan’s turn to hesitate for the first time all afternoon. “No. I completed my three-year contract and got the fuck out of here, but I found myself… in some trouble a year later. It was either a five-year jail sentence or a five-year hunting contract.”

“And this is better than jail?”

Ewan gulps. “Sometimes, I’m not so sure. But at least I’m free to go home and eat and do whatever I want after this.” He looks down at his watch and curses under his breath. “We need to go; they’ll be calling us back soon.”

The two walk back to HQ in silence, the only interruption being Sergeant Corpo calling the one-hour warning in their earpieces. Apollo, in all his adrenaline, had no idea how far they’d walked to get to the apartment building. As he watches the sunset in the distance, he realizes they easily walked 45 minutes into the city. He now feels the burn in his calves.

Apollo’s energy returns upon seeing the outline of HQ in front of him. Hearing the Sergeant’s barking orders gave him a sense of ease he wasn’t expecting. As the pair falls in line with the rest of the hoard of hazmat-clad men, Apollo finally registers what Corpo is saying.

“If you have anything abnormal to report, please come find me, otherwise head to the debrief tents to get showered before you head home.” The Sergeant repeats the same phrase every few seconds. The thought of reporting what he saw makes Apollo stop in his tracks and look over to Ewan.

Ewan, who was already looking at Apollo, shakes his head ever so slightly. Apollo looks at him for a second more and then looks back to Sergeant Corpo.

After a moment’s hesitation, he turns back to Ewan, giving him a solemn, resigned look, and continues toward the debriefing tents.