“A strawberry tart.”

“What? What’re ya talkin bout.”

“Dat’s whuddit looks like, a strawberry tart.”

“Yew kno nuffin, mate. Dat dere is our death sentence.”

“No wif all dis panik, bruv. Dat dere is our meal tiket.”

Siobahn and Aloysius. Two street rat, cyber-punks who, taking advantage of the apocalypse to come, have joined the rioting and looting spree that has spread throughout super-city one. Who could blame them though, in the face of imminent death and mass extinction, right and wrong, morals that inhibit most people have flown right out the window.

All meaning has been lost in the face of death.

“Wea’s my share of da loot from dat piggy we stuck earlier; don’t fink I’ve forgot.”

“Dat was my prize. Get your own.”

“Wut do yoo fink went thru its skull before we slit is froat.”

“Like foughts?”

“Yea.”

“I don’t kno, my shiv?”

“Uhuh huh ha hahaha.”

“I don’t hav foughts, mate. I just take wut I please, do wut I want, ya get me?”

“Me too. But I have foughts, like if dere is anyone else out dere.”

“We kno dere is, mate. We enslaved three ovar planets.”

“Not lyke Skayleez or doze furballz. I mean a big man lookin ova us.”

“Shyte, mate. I fought we left all dat bizniz on erf.”

“Dou if yoo fink bout it, da big man would be anywere, ya knoe?”

“Fuk, I dunno. I don’t wanna fink bout all dat. We jus need ta worry bout were we get our next score.”

“I fink dere iz a big man and he takes notes, ya kno? I finkdere iz some bloke dat takes da mezure of each man wen we kaak it.”

“LOOK, MATE. I DON’T WANNA FINK BOUT ALL DAT, YA HEER? Now, dey say dat da fancy crowd have skips off dis rock. Dat dey hav ben leaving in droves all week while everyone else loots and kills an wot hav yoo.”

“So? We’ll neva get on one of doze.”

“I’m sayin, if we stick one of doze poncy bastich dat we might hav a chanse.” I kno a place in da hills were a miser and her jigolo have bunkered down waiting till dere skip comes.”

“And wot? Wot ar we gon do?”

“I fought yoo were da finka, mate. We stick her and her jigolo and inpersunate dem, hear me?”

“Fuk, son. Dat’ll neva work. I say we find a church and confess. Free our minds an unburden our souls like.”

“FORGET BOUT DAT SHYTE, MATE. LET’S GET A MOVE ON FORE WE GET CAUGHT IN ANOVA WAVE OF RIOTS.”

Siobahn and Aloysius disappear into the eternal red dusk that no day or night could penetrate, just a singular sepia pall engulfing the super-city in peril.

As they walk, Aloysius prays under his breath to a forgotten god. He prayers speak of salvation and forgiveness and are expressed as eloquently and sincere as his tongue will allow.

Siobhan momentarily puts up with his mutterings though truth be told, quickly get under her skin. She needs no archaic angelic saviour. She knew words could not bring forgiveness for the things she has done in her life.

They make their way past the sprawl into sectors no longer under guard from the super-cops. Many have already taken the skips off planet, and there are only a couple more skip to come until there will be no more, and the planet and its remaining inhabitants are left to their fate.

They reach the abandoned hills, where the rich have their mansions. Standing outside a particular set of gilded gates, where high marble pillars rise and pearl setting adorn a platinum driveway leading to opulent halls where imagination cannot compare to the luxury within its walls.

“Rite, here’s wea dat rich bitch lives. I paid good money for dis infamation, we just have ta pretend to be da fuzz dat eskorts doze poncy pricks to da skips.”

“I dunno, Siobahn. I don’t wanna do deez fings no more. I wanna go home an pray wit me mum.”

“Listen, fool. No amount of praying will bring forgivniz for wot we dun and are bout to do. Just do wot I say.”

“NO. I WON’T.”

Aloysius chooses this moment to stand up to his staunch friend to no result. Siobahn slugs Aloysius in the gut and takes his hand and lops off a thump.

Pop, falling to the floor.

Siobahn laughs at the way the thumb falls to the ground. Aloysius howls in pain.

“You fiend! You fraud! I fought we were mates, you an me.”

“Moron! I toldya ta forget about prayers and fagivniz an some big man dat is not even dea. Where iz he now?”

“I’ll be saved, you’ll see.”

“Shut it! Just shut yet mouf. Now, we are goin to dat speaker at da gates an announce our arrive all official like, ya hear. And if you giv us away, I’ll take a toe off.”

Aloysius tries to hold it together as he and Siobahn approach the gates.

Before any word can be said, motion sensor lazer cannons with led 8k cameras appear from the high marble pillars and open fire.

Whoever is controlling the lazer cannons is a terrible shot. As Siobahn and Aloysius flee, the cannons strike the iron gates raining fire in all directions ricocheting and randomly firing a great big blood hole though Aloysius’ chest.

He falls to the ground, stone cold dead

Siobahn doesn’t think anything of losing her friend and looks to the gate as opportunity lies ahead. She is pretty sure more traps lie within the compound, but to get to her prize she has to take the chance.

She runs for it.

Past the destroyed iron gates, cannons blasting randomly. Up the platinum driveway, lazer wire scattered across the lawn, running along lines disembowelling whatever they come into contact with.

Siobahn evades them.

The space mutts are released; mutant hybrids bred for mauling bears and running long distances.

With great effort Siobahn manages to trick them into the lazer wire; they’re not very smart.

She makes her way, up and up, and soon hell follows after her.

The comet hanging in the sky looms ever closer and soon the demons that were once kept at bay start attacking. None know where they come from or live long enough get any answers.

There is little time left, the last skips will be leaving soon.

Siobahn has won her way into the mansion, its high white marble walls unadorned with any pageantry give a foreboding solemn vibe as the doors close and she is locked within.

The rooms in this place are like a maze, corners leading to more bare rooms until from around an anonymous corner, a giant naked African appears and he and Siobahn duel in a knife fight.

The naked man’s attacks are matched with a ferocity from Siobahn of one fighting for their lives. Her will is set that she will be on those last skips.

Blow after blow. Parry and riposte.

But the giants attacks soon fail him and Siobahn strikes a critical tendon in his attacking arm which goes limp.

His fate is sealed as Siobahn strikes more tendons in his legs bringing the giant to his knees.

He is silent when Siobahn takes knife from behind him, and ends his servile existence.

Behind the mansion and emerald field sprawls with rolling field and meadows, and there the last skip waits.

Siobahn franticly tries to navigate the windowless marble maze and starts to lose hope.

At last she finds an open door from which the rich miser hobbles to her deliverance.

But Siobahn races past the miser, leaving her and approaching the skip, is shot to her death by super-cops.

The thief and brigand cyber-punk is left dying on the bold green grass, as the miser takes her rightful place, taking off into space, leaving the planet and the rest of its inhabitants to its fate.

Bleeding out, on the eve of the apocalypse, Siobahn mutters secret words under her breath as the demons and gargoyles overrun and consume all living life.

She knows that she isn’t the last, it will be the planet that sees the end of the dusk.

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