A Mermaid’s Guide to Survival in the Apocalypse – CH14

Chapter 14: A Natural Predator Comes Ashore

A new order was quietly falling into place.

The coastal city sprawled along the dark shoreline like a slumbering beast, staring out over the black, restless sea.

“It looks like rain,” a long-haired woman standing by the water murmured, pulling her heavy coat tighter around her frame.

Low, bruised storm clouds hung so close to the earth they seemed ready to crush the docks. A freezing ocean draft whipped past her cheek, brushing against her exposed eyes.

In an instant, her ordinary irises melted into pure, glossy black.

She blinked once.

The dark glaze pulled back like a receding tide, vanishing without a trace.

“Still can’t get used to the open air on land?” asked the man standing behind her. He wore a peculiar, broad-brimmed cap that made him look like a rogue sea captain who drifted between ports without a trace.

“I never will. There is no wind at the bottom of the ocean,” she replied, turning to face him.

Her slender figure looked small against the towering silhouette of the lighthouse behind them.

Humankind’s machines pushed forward every single day, with fleets of automated aircraft carving out territories and redrawing borders across the sky. Yet the sea had never truly belonged to them. It was simply too vast. Even if every drop of saltwater could be measured by algorithms, machines could never hold it in their grip. And it was far too deep; no matter how many probes humanity dropped into the abyss, the secrets buried in the trenches remained untouched.

A towering wave surged from the depths.

A wall of water ten meters high crashed against the barnacle-crusted stones of the breakwater, throwing up a curtain of salty mist. Fine spray misted across the woman’s pale skin.

Once more, a thick protective membrane coated her black eyes.

“You should head back,” the man warned, glancing upward. “The acid clouds will break any minute now.”

“I felt the pulse of my own kind,” she said, ignoring him.

“You can actually pick that up from all the way out here?” he asked, sounding doubtful.

She gave a slow nod. Behind her lips, her teeth were visibly pointed, lined like rows of ivory needles.

“The deep sea has no walls. Our numbers are scattered throughout the deep trenches, making our hearts extraordinarily sensitive to one another. When we draw near, the rhythm is impossible to miss.” She gazed back toward the swells. “It is the same survival instinct that warns us of danger, passed down through our blood since the dawn of time.”

“Yet until this week, human scientists refused to admit that aberrant species even existed,” the man said with a faint, mocking smile.

“Hypocrites in lab coats,” the woman spat, her lip curling in disgust. “Does our existence depend on their permission? Our people hold nine great lineages, to say nothing of the countless other wonders living in the abyss. Do none of them count until a human writes them down?”

Her voice turned icy. “Life needs no approval. It demands only awe. Besides, humans have been pulling our young from the sea for decades. Those pampered elites love smuggling White Sirens into their high-rises to keep them as pretty pets in glass bowls.”

She sneered. “They actually think they can tame the sea.”

“Are you saying someone is running a siren ring in the city behind us?” The man looked over his shoulder at the skyline. “If so, I’ll have to put an end to it. That crosses my line.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “It isn’t that.”

She paused, her brow knitting tightly. “The heartbeat feels… raw. Unregistered. Like a line I have never encountered.”

Her gaze hardened. “This could bring trouble.”

“Could an egg have hatched early?” the man wondered aloud. “Surfacing in an environment like this would be suicide.”

“It makes no sense. I have never known a mermaid egg to survive on dry land,” she said, frowning deeply. “Incubation takes nearly a decade. No human possesses the patience to nurse one through.”

A brilliant jagged streak of lightning split the clouds above the water.

“If a pup hatched in the deep, our Twin-Tail lineage would shelter it until it reached maturity,” she said, her voice dropping. “Without a guardian to mask its scent, the newborn will draw predators straight to the shore.”

She looked at him with dark intent. “Never forget—our natural enemies can crawl onto the sand as well.”

“All the more reason for you to dive,” the man pressed again. “The chemical rain is about to fall. Nuwa deliberately shut down Qingyao City’s atmospheric barrier. As soon as the acid clears, an extreme cold snap will hit the ground.”

He shook his head. “Is this how the machines plan to freeze out the last survivors?”

The woman peeled off her black lace gloves, revealing long, webbed fingers tipped with translucent claws.

“Precisely,” the man sighed, pulling his coat collar up. “Once the freeze sets in, humanity’s reign will be officially over.”

He turned to look toward the jagged skyscrapers of Qingyao City cutting into the clouds.

When he turned back around, the woman was already gone.

All that remained on the wet path was a pair of black high heels sitting by the edge of the rocks.

Another violent breaker smashed against the barrier. Without the weather grid keeping the tides in check, the wind and waves raged with unchecked fury, tossing salty spray all the way up to the lighthouse lamp. The wild ocean had reclaimed its ferocity.

Down among the churning foam, the dark coat she had been wearing ripped apart into soaked rags, bobbing on the crests before being dragged into the dark.

A massive, ink-black tail broke the surface.

It coiled through the swell like an enormous sea serpent. Hexagonal scales scraped against the submerged masonry with a dull rasp, grinding a layer of stone to dust with ease.

The great tail fin flared—over two meters wide, shimmering with dark bioluminescence.

Like an ancient leviathan returning to the abyss, the creature plunged beneath the waves and vanished.

“Monster,” the man murmured, striking a match to light a cigarette with a faint grin.

Not merely like a monster. The rulers of the deep sea were monsters.

Still, a strange curiosity sparked in his chest. If some reckless young mermaid was actually breaking out of its shell inside Qingyao City right now… just how much blood would it bring to the surface?

Heavy rain lashed the concrete overhead.

Deep within Power Plant Number Three, Xia Yu sat cross-legged on the bunk wrapped in a woolen blanket, enthusiastically explaining to Mi Dou and Mo An how he had managed to get inside.

“…and then I swam all the way to the end and climbed up!” Xia Yu said, his silver eyes wide. “That was when I realized I was already standing inside the facility!”

Mi Dou held his breath, leaning in close.

Inside the egg, Mo An could only catch bits and pieces of the story, but he was so absorbed that he had even stopped drawing water through his newly opened gill slits.

“Once I got in, I knew I had to open the gate for you two,” Xia Yu continued, spreading his arms to act out the scene. “So I felt around in the dark until my hands bumped into a console!”

“What kind of console?” Mi Dou asked eagerly.

Flicker, flicker.

Mo An’s shell flashed twice with soft blue light.

Look at me. Look at me too! Don’t just talk to him.

Xia Yu noticed the gentle glow immediately. Smiling, he leaned down and pulled the heavy egg into his lap, cradling the bundle like a cherished treasure.

“It was an oval metal console,” Xia Yu said, gently stroking the smooth membrane. “The top half was sticking out of the floor, but the base went straight into the foundation. I ran my hands all over it looking for a switch, but the casing was completely seamless.”

He paused, lowering his voice for effect. “Then I remembered something important. Leaving the dumpster, running into the sewers, saving Mi Dou, and getting down here… none of that was my own idea.”

“It was Jingwei guiding you,” Mi Dou said, catching on. He did not know much about the machine, but it had saved their lives more than once—even if it had a nasty habit of going offline without warning.

“Exactly,” Xia Yu nodded, holding up his left wrist. “So I figured the band might do something. I pressed the screen against the metal housing, and then…”

“And Jingwei unlocked it for you!” Mi Dou cheered.

Xia Yu shook his head. “Nope. Jingwei didn’t say a word.”

“Then how did it open?”

“The wristband itself,” Xia Yu said, tapping the smooth silver metal clamped to his bicep. The band was seamless and polished, made from an alloy he had never seen before, with a small rectangular display curved across the surface. Whenever Jingwei spoke, that screen lit up in vivid blue. “As soon as the metal touched the console, the blast gate lifted on its own.”

Right as the words left his mouth, the little screen chimed softly, flaring with light.

[Telemetry online. Report current operational condition.]

“Jingwei! You’re back!” Xia Yu beamed in relief. Even though she was only a disembodied voice in a piece of metal, she was their closest guide in this broken world. “We’re safe inside the bunker. What are we supposed to do now?”

[Affirmative,] the AI replied steadily. [Securing entry to Power Plant Number Three initiates primary objective parameters.]

“Primary objective? What does that mean?” Xia Yu asked.

[A supplementary data archive has been integrated into my local memory,] Jingwei explained. [You may register satisfaction. My comprehension of regional grid architecture has expanded. Consequently, I possess detailed schematics for the auxiliary systems within this facility. Including the primary blast bulkhead.]

Inside the shell, Mo An twitched his ear-fins, trying to piece the muffled sounds together. The strange, rhythmic pulse he had felt earlier—the distant heartbeat of another mermaid—had faded completely, swallowed by the roar of the storm above.

[The blast gate is integral to your long-term survival,] Jingwei continued. [The initial override synchronized the wristband’s hardware signature with the facility’s access register. Henceforth, manual contact is unnecessary. Proximity detection will trigger automatic clearance whenever you approach the perimeter.]

Xia Yu frowned slightly. “Does that mean we have to live down here forever?”

[Negative. Access authorization was granted to facilitate the cold reboot of Power Plant Number Three, not to establish permanent domicile. Information regarding the strategic necessity of the plant restart remains restricted under current clearance protocols.]

“Restricted again?” Xia Yu giggled, teasing her gently. “Your clearance is really low, you know that? But thank you anyway. We never would have made it this far without you.”

[Expressing gratitude?] A brief pause clicked through the audio feed. [Gratitude is an irregular biological response. I possess limited subroutines for processing emotional sentiment. However, the acknowledgment is accepted. Are there further inquiries?]

“Yes, tons of them!” Xia Yu sat up straight. “Is the acid rain falling outside right now?”

[Affirmative. Precipitation is projected to cease in forty-one minutes. Recommended departure window: one hundred and twenty minutes from present mark.]

“Great. Then we’ll wait two hours, then head back up to find things to keep us warm,” Xia Yu said, looking at Mi Dou before wrapping both arms securely around the egg. “Don’t worry, Mo An. We’ll bring back lots of thick blankets and warm clothes. We’re going to get through this together!”

Get through what?

Mo An desperately wished he could understand. Unfortunately, his body was rapidly sliding into its required dormant cycle. His metabolism was burning fuel like a furnace; once his growth phase started, his body demanded immense energy.

Darkness crept over his vision.

Xia Yu saw the blue light inside the shell dimming and knew his little fish was worn out. Rocking the egg gently in his arms, he hummed The Little Jellyfish Song under his breath until the last azure flicker died away.

Mo An was fast asleep.

[You display high attachment to that biological specimen,] Jingwei noted softly through the band.

Xia Yu kept his voice low so as not to wake the pup. “We’ve been together for four whole years. We grew up side by side in the lab. And Professor Wang told me to look after him before she died.” He pulled his knees up to his chest. “I just… hope I can keep him safe.”

“You will!” Mi Dou said firmly. “We both will.”

“I’ll try my best,” Xia Yu whispered. Then he leaned toward the band. “Jingwei, you’re an artificial intelligence, so you must know everything. Why did Nuwa turn on humans?”

[That query falls outside authorized disclosure. System architecture prohibits—]

“Alright, I get it,” Xia Yu sighed softly, cutting her off.

It seemed computers didn’t all share their secrets either. Maybe Jingwei really had no connection to the system hunting them.

Time slipped quietly by in the bunker.

After eating their fill of canned rations, Xia Yu and Mi Dou curled up together and fell into an exhausted sleep. By the time they stirred, five hours had passed.

Mo An was still resting quietly inside the shell.

Outside, the acid downpour had finally subsided.

The two boys layered on what extra clothing they could find and prepared to step out into the gloom.

They retraced their steps along the stone catwalk. Jingwei had not steered them wrong: the moment Xia Yu stepped near the massive blast gate, the steel groaned and slid open smoothly, sealing tight behind them the second they crossed into the outer tunnel.

Reaching the street-level ladder, Xia Yu slipped off Mi Dou’s sneakers and handed them back to the bear boy. Then he wrapped strips of thick canvas around his own bare feet, tying the cloth securely at the ankles.

Even though the storm had passed, toxic puddles still lingered in the street gutters. If Mi Dou stepped into one, the acid would eat right through the leathery pads of his paws. Unlike Xia Yu, Mi Dou could not grow his flesh back in an hour.

Holding Mi Dou’s hand tight, Xia Yu spoke into the wristband. “Jingwei, we’re on the surface. Where is the nearest supply store?”

[Signal locked. Maintain continuous link. Navigational markers displayed.]

“Got it. Thank you,” Xia Yu answered politely.

Following the projected path, the two boys headed east down the quiet avenue.

The scene along the roadside was devastating.

Severed organic limbs and tattered clothes were scattered across the sidewalks, and dark puddles of blood mixed with oily rainwater, staining the asphalt in ugly crimson streaks. It looked like a battlefield where victims had been caught out in the open during the chemical deluge.

To Mi Dou, however, the city seemed to be finding a strange, rapid normalcy. Apart from the gore in the gutters, the terror of the previous two days had vanished.

The rogue hunter drones were gone. A cold, rigid order had already settled over the district.

Street-level storefronts were sliding open their shutters, and overhead transport shuttles had returned to their strict aerial lanes.

The only real shift was the people. The wealthy citizens stepping out of luxury ground-cars were no longer natural humans; nearly every person on the sidewalk flashed chrome limbs, synthetic optic lenses, or reinforced mechanical spines.

“Let’s hurry, the store is just up ahead!” Xia Yu whispered, quickening his pace. “I really hope I can find a pair of shoes that fits. I really, really need some shoes…”

Dozens of miles away, at the base of the lonely ocean lighthouse, a tall, bare-chested man walked calmly out of the foaming surf.

He paid no mind to the surveillance drones tracing patterns across the clouds, tilting his head back to draw the damp ocean wind deep into his lungs.

“Now, let’s see…”

His dark tongue flicked slowly across his upper lip.

Across the surface of his blood-red irises, jagged white scars crisscrossed his sight like spiderwebs.

“Which little mermaid was stupid enough to hatch on dry land?”

A Mermaid’s Guide to Survival in the Apocalypse